as denied the Sacrament to their Parishioners, unless upon such conditions, and in such a manner, as they could not take it.  This he mentioned with much sorrow, saying, “The blessed Sacrament did, by way of preparation for it, give occasion to all conscientious receivers to examine the performance of their vows, since they received their last seal for the pardon of their sins past; and to examine and re-search their hearts, and make penitent reflections on their failings; and, that done, to bewail them, and then make new vows or resolutions to obey all God’s commands, and beg his grace to perform them.  And this done, the Sacrament repairs the decays of grace, helps us to conquer infirmities, gives us grace to beg God’s grace, and then gives us what we beg; makes us still hunger and thirst after his righteousness, which we then receive, and being assisted with our endeavours, will still so dwell in us, as to become our satisfaction in this life, and our comfort on our last sick beds.”  The want of this blessed benefit he lamented much, and pitied their condition that desired, but could not obtain it.

[Sidenote:  His character]

I hope I shall not disoblige my Reader, if I here enlarge into a further character of his person and temper.  As first, that he was moderately tall:  his behaviour had in it much of a plain comeliness, and very little, yet enough, of ceremony or courtship; his looks and motion manifested affability and mildness, and yet he had with these a calm, but so matchless a fortitude, as secured him from complying with any of those many Parliament injunctions, that interfered with a doubtful conscience.  His learning was methodical and exact, his wisdom useful, his integrity visible, and his whole life so unspotted, that all ought to be preserved as copies for posterity to write after; the Clergy especially, who with impure hands ought not to offer sacrifice to that God, whose pure eyes abhor iniquity.

There was in his Sermons no improper rhetoric, nor such perplexed divisions, as may be said to be like too much light, that so dazzles the eyes, that the sight becomes less perfect:  but there was therein no want of useful matter, nor waste of words; and yet such clear distinctions as dispelled all confused notions, and made his hearers depart both wiser, and more confirmed in virtuous resolutions.

[Sidenote:  His memory]

[Sidenote:  His even temper]

His memory was so matchless and firm, as ’twas only overcome by his bashfulness; for he alone, or to a friend, could repeat all the Odes of Horace, all Tully’s Offices, and much of Juvenal and Persius, without book:  and would say, “the repetition of one of the Odes of Horace to himself, was to him such music, as a lesson on the viol was to others, when they played it to themselves or friends.”  And though he was blest with a clearer judgment than other men, yet he was so distrustful of it, that he did over-consider of consequences, and would so delay