He was wise and happy in his counsels, and usually, being a man of much observation, he had exceedingly appropriate instances to sanction his counsel, in this way: it is good for persons to submit to the Lord's hand, and to let him choose the rod for us. A woman in Manchester burying a daughter, for two years never looked up, but repined, came often to the grave to mourn over it, yet it was a child miserably infirm and scrophulous; afterwards God took away the use of her limbs, and lying in torturing pain, she acknowledged that it was nothing to bury a child: she thus became sensible of her impatience under her former affliction, and felt that now God had dealt more severely with her. And upon this, Mr. Angier mentioned an aunt of his, who had great bodily weakness and pain, and she desired that God would take that affliction away, and lay on her what affliction he pleased except that; the Lord did take that away, and laid affliction of spirit upon her, which was far more distressing, and she never recovered it while she lived. So to produce a persuasion that our affliction is best for us, be it ever so painful, he sometimes mentioned that Mr. Daniel Rogers' first wife was a very cross woman, and he bore a long time with her silently; at last he made his complaint to his father, Mr. Richard Rogers, and he gave him this answer, Any thing, Daniel, to bring thee to heaven.

He was very faithful in admonishing as he saw reason: when an eminent minister said, he took such a thing ill or unkindly from such a one, Mr. Angier gravely and smilingly answered, Would I so little favour myself as to take unkindness from any one ? which, said that good man, I thought of since to my great advantage; for this taking unkindness is accompanied with a fretting within one's own breast, and so it is leaving the offender and falling upon one's self.

Mr. Angier was much afflicted with that sad war which broke out between the Dutch and us, yet he comforted himself with this consideration, that God did not give us over to be corrected by Papists, but that Protestants are in the hands of Protestants, though upon a distressing account, and he hoped that the drops of the storm might begin with there formed churches, but that its fury might be spent elsewhere.

It pleased the Lord to lay upon Mr. Angier many grievous and piercing afflictions in his old age, according to his own 'observation on John xxi. 18, concerning Peter, when our Lord told him, "that when he was old, he should be carried whither he would not." Mr. A. remarked that God often exerciseth his choicest servants, who have been men of eminent activity and usefulness in his service, with great afflictions in the latter part

of life, such as bodily pain: so Asa, when old, was diseased in his feet. * Melchior Adam tells us of Mr. George Major, that he saw the funerals of six sons, whereof one, that is Leonard, died by the biting of a mad dog; several daughters also, and a nephew died; in all this and much more, saying, (Si bona accepimus, annon mala sustineamus?) Shall we receive good, and not bear evil? At last he died of painful diseases, having kept his bed near three years. † Thus Mr. Angier instanced in Mr. Rogers of Dedham, who experienced great agony produced by gravel: so had worthy Mr. Storer of Stockport, and Mr. Johnson, minister of the same place; old Mr. Bourn, Mr. Herle, and, at that time when he mentioned it, good Mr. Harrison of Ashton, his neighbour. It may seem a riddle and an unaccountable mystery in Providence, why God should think fit to lay the heaviest load on the weakest horse; old age is a burden to itself. Mr. Angier assigned this reason, that thereby God thinks it fit to wean his children from the world, prepare them for heaven, and render it more desirable: besides God will make his children perfect Christians, exercised every way in suffering, that they may be entire, lacking nothing, according to James i. 4.

In old age his afflictions were, 1. The death of his beloved, amiable daughter Elizabeth, who though she was married and lived with her husband in Yorkshire, yet being in a deep consumption, he sent his own easy-going horse to fetch her home, in hopes that a change of air might tend to her recovery; but there she grew worse, and languishing, died May 26, 1661, and was laid by her own mother in Denton chapel-yard. Though her death went near his heart, yet being abundantly satisfied that she had got safe to heaven, he bore it with great composedness and equanimity; for indeed she was the mirror of her age for accomplishments and piety: yet it could not but be an affliction to his spirit, since so hopeful a blossom of his family was so quickly nipped in the flower of her age.

2. This also presaged more crosses. It was a great affliction to him that things went so ill with the church of God, as to public liberty, with which he sympathized though he enjoyed his. But himself too must taste a few drops of that cup of which many of his brethren had a large draught. On the Oxford Act coming into operation, March 24, 1665, by which the ministers were banished five miles from the place where they had formerly preached, it was judged expedient that he also should for the present withdraw from his house; on that act taking effect, he began to travel, and his son-in-law with him, amongst his In Vit. Ger. Maj. page 470.

* 2 Chron. xvi. 12.

friends in Cheshire, and visited several persons of quality, lodging with them some weeks, being kindly treated and graciously entertained, being also very useful, and leaving his good counsels and blessing wherever he came; notwithstanding during that time he seemed to be out of his element, and longed to return home. He was compelled to return, for wearing his boots daily, a gouty humour seized on his foot; he then said, Come, son, let us trust God, and go home: so he returned to his own house, and continued there without further trouble.

3. He was very much afflicted with a disorder at his stomach, which sorely distressed him, and he could find no ease from it by any means he could employ : he was advised to use tobacco, but could never succeed.

4. His very dear wife's death about 2 years before his own, was a grievous and bitter affliction to him, with whom he had lived 32 years to his abundant satisfaction every way: and indeed she was an affectionate and desirable companion, very useful both in spiritual and temporal things, drawing evenly in the same yoke. She was of a truly christian temper: one thing I shall add of her, noted to my hand, as a peculiar privilege and rare amongst Christians, that God gave her early assurance of his love, and she said also, not long before her death, he had never withdrawn it from her all her time. This was very observable and far different from God's dealings with his former wife, of whom Mr. Angier said in some remarks left in writing on her life, that though God moved her heart to seek him from eight years of age, yet he never gave her settled assurance of his love while she lived. Behold the sovereign dealings of God with his own children! he, however, is infinitely wise in these cases.

5. But the great affliction, the very quintessence of his affliction, was the sin and miscarriage of some of his children: this, this cut him to the very heart, and lay as a constant load continually pressing on his spirit. His son, his only son, devoted to God, not only in christian profession, but ministerial function, miscarrying under such education, with such aggravations; this went so near to him, that such words dropped from Mr. Angier's lips, of bitter complaint to one related to him, as shewed his exquisite sensations under some burdens of that nature: though he had paid £400. for his son in a few years, to the injury of his own estate, yet he saw it did no good, and still that was all nothing in comparison of the dishonour to God by his extravagances. His friend said, Sir, God hath given you much grace, and he is resolved to exercise it. Ah, said he, but it is hard, very hard to bear a strange word from such a man, but he could bear any thing better than sin, and especially in so near

a relation; as the angel of the Ephesian church, to whom it is said, Rev. ii. 2, 3, "Thou canst not bear them which are evil, yet hast borne, and hast patience, and for my name sake hast laboured, and hast not fainted." Oh sin, sin in dear relations against his dearest heavenly Father, cut him to the quick; and souls cast in the mould of feeling know what this means. But God bore up this good man's heart, (as he did David's) with hopes and confidence in the blessed covenant, that sure and well ordered covenant. This he adhered to, this he pleaded and depended upon living and dying; still he spoke well of God, and exercised himself in praising his name both in duties and discourses, owning in all crosses the hand of God, to whom he had devoted his all. These various experiences disposed him to compassionate others, and qualified him to encourage and counsel them; for (as was said) he could speak a word in season to quiet and mollify others' spirits under pressing burdens; he still said, hold up faith and patience, wait on God, and fear not, for he will overrule all for the best, to promote his own glory and your best good, the greatest spiritual advantage of his own people.

His usual practice was, on the evening before a fast day, to put his children and servants upon it, to direct them to set themselves seriously about the work of preparation; to search out and confess their sins. He used such means as might, by God's help, prove effectual to reformation both of himself and his family and upon all such occasions of fasting or thanksgiving, it was his way to inquire concerning the fatherless and widows, and such as were in necessity, that something might be sent to them, for whom nothing was provided, as he often said.

Not long before he fell sick, he said to one who was with him, that he slept very little at night, adding, when I lie waking in my bed, I sometimes run over the course of my whole life; and if a penman were ready by me, I could relate many remarkable passages of God's providence about myself. His friend said, Sir, you would do well to write them down as they come into your thoughts: but he made no answer to that.

When money lent by him came in seasonably, though it was his own, yet he admired and thankfully owned God's providence in it, as if it had been a gift; and said, it is all one, whether it was a debt or a gift, if God only send it in a needful time; the paying of a debt is as great a mercy from God, as the sending of a gift.

I must now hasten to the last scene of this holy man's life. He longed to be with Christ, and our Lord had been long ripening him for glory. He loved his Master's work, and his

Master indulged him in his work when others were taken off, he was wonderfully maintained in his lot. He did not of late years preach that day he administered the Lord's supper: the last Supper day was Aug. 12, 1677, and the next Lord's day after he preached one part of the day, Aug. 19, but when he came into his house, he laid his hand upon his breast, and said, Ah, this will not do, I must give over preaching; which yet cut him to the heart to anticipate. He was very weary that night, as he usually was; the next day but one after, he began to have some aguish fits, and had six or seven of those fits; from that time he began to decline apace. When this his last sickness commenced, he ordered his kinsman in the house to write letters to Mr. Case, his brother-in-law Mr. Tuckney, his brother Bezaleel, and others, to acquaint them with his circumstances, hoping for and desiring their prayers. He daily expected his own son's coming out of Lincolnshire, but he came not while he was living. He ordered his son-in-law to be sent for; a messenger was despatched to him, but though he hasted away towards him, yet he came not till this holy man of God had breathed his last. A few hours before, on the same day, his approaching dissolution came on apace, yet had he the free exercise of his understanding to the last, and as he had been a man of prayer all his days, so he died praying. The morning that he died, he prayed sensibly; the last words which were intelligible, were his request for the king and council, but the particular words those who were about him could not distinctly hear.

The last day of the week, Sept. 1, 1677, was the last day of that worthy man's life; he died about eleven o'clock, and entered into his rest near the Sabbath, a day of rest; from henceforth to rest from all his weary labours, and to keep an eternal sabbath with his dearest Lord. It was his own observation, that God often takes home his ministers and people on or near his holy day, to perfect their graces, and give them rest.

Thus fell that bright star, thus set that shining sun in the firmanent of the church, or rather was hidden from our eyes, to shine more gloriously in the upper region; the wise (that is, wise virgins, members of Christ's mystical body,) or, as the word is, Dan. xii. 3, "Teachers of others shall shine as the brightness of the firmanent, and they that turn many to righteousness, as the stars for ever and ever." Thus this pillar is taken down that bore up an incredible weight not discerned so well then, as felt daily by sad experience since his removal from under the fabric: thus is the plant of renown transferred into a better soil. This ancient tree of God's own planting, which had sheltered many with its shadowing foliage, and fed many