prudent and effectual ways of charity he could think of, and upon such persons as, all circumstances considered, he judged to be the fittest and most proper objects of it.

For about nine or ten years last past, he did, as is well known to many here present, almost wholly apply his charity to Wales, because there he judged was most occasion for it. And because this was a very great work, he did not only lay out upon it whatever he could spare out of his own estate, but employed his whole time and pains to excite and engage the charity of others for his assistance in it.

And in this he had two excellent designs. One, to have poor children brought up to read and write, and to be carefully instructed in the principles of religion. The other, to furnish persons of grown age, the poor especially, with the necessary helps and means of knowledge, as the Bible, and other books of piety and devotion, in their own language; to which end he procured the "Church Catechism," the "Practice of Piety," and that best of books the "Whole Duty of Man,” besides several other pious and useful treatises, some of them to be translated into the Welsh tongue, and great numbers of all of them to be printed, and sent down to the chief towns in Wales, to be sold at easy rates to those that were able to buy them, and to be freely given to those that were not.

For

And in both these designs, through the blessing of God upon his unwearied endeavours, he found very great success. by the large and bountiful contributions which, chiefly by his industry and prudent application, were obtained from charitable persons of all ranks and conditions, from the nobility and gentry of Wales, and the neighbouring counties, and several of that quality in and about London; from divers of the right reverend bishops, and of the clergy; and from that perpetual fountain of charity, the city of London, led on and encouraged by the most bountiful example of the Right Honourable the Lord Mayor, and the Court of Aldermen; to all which he

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constantly added two-thirds of his own estate, which, as I have been credibly informed, was two hundred pounds a-year: I say, by all these together, there were every year eight hundred, sometimes a thousand, poor children educated, as I said before ; and by this example, several of the most considerable towns of Wales were excited to bring up, at their own charge, the like number of poor children, in the like manner, and under his inspection and care.

He likewise gave very great numbers of the books above mentioned, both in the Welsh and English tongues, to the poorer sort, so many as were unable to buy them and willing to read them. But, which was the greatest work of all, and amounted indeed to a mighty charge, he procured a new and very fair impression of the Bible and Liturgy of the Church of England in the Welsh tongue (the former impression being spent, and hardly twenty of them to be had in all London), to the number of eight thousand; one thousand whereof was freely given to the poor, and the rest sent to the principal cities and towns in Wales to be sold to the rich at very reasonable and low rates, viz., at four shillings a-piece, well bound and clasped; which was much cheaper than any English Bible was ever sold that was of so fair a print and paper; a work of that charge, that it was not likely to have been done any other way; and for which this age, and perhaps the next, will have great cause to thank God on his behalf.

In these good works he employed all his time, and care, and pains, and his whole heart was in them, so that he was very little affected with anything else, and seldom either minded or knew anything of the strange occurrences of this troublesome and busy age, such as I think are hardly to be paralleled in any other: or, if he did mind them, he scarce ever spoke anything about them. For this was the business he laid to heart, and knowing it to be so much and so certainly the will of his heavenly Father, it was his meat and drink to be doing of it:

and the good success he had in it was a continual feast to him, and gave him a perpetual serenity both of mind and countenance. His great love and zeal for this work made all the pains and difficulties of it seem nothing to him: he would rise early and sit up late, and continued the same diligence and industry to the last, though he was in the threescore and seventeenth year of his age. And that he might manage the distribution of this great charity with his own hands, and see the good effect of it with his own eyes, he always once, but usually twice a-year, at his own charge, travelled over a great part of Wales, none of the best countries to travel in: but for the love of God and men he endured all that, together with the extremity of heat and cold (which in their several seasons are both very great there) not only with patience but with pleasure. So that all things considered there have not, since the primitive times of Christianity, been many among the sons of men to whom that glorious character of the Son of God might be better applied, that he went about doing good; and Wales may as worthily boast of this truly apostolical man as of their famous St David; who was also, very probably, a good man, as those times of ignorance and superstition went, but his goodness is so disguised by their fabulous legends and stories which give us the account of him, that it is not easy to discover it. Indeed, ridiculous miracles in abundance are reported of him: as, that upon occasion of a great number of people resorting from all parts to hear him preach, for the greater advantage of his being heard, a mountain all on a sudden rose up miraculously under his feet, and his voice was extended to that degree that he might be distinctly heard for two or three miles round about. Such fantastical miracles as these make up a great part of his history; and, admitting all these to be true (which a wise man would be loth to do), our departed friend had that which is much greater and more excellent than all these, a fervent charity to God and men, which is more than to speak (as they

would make us believe St David did) with the tongue of men and angels, more than to raise or remove mountains.

I will add but one thing more concerning our deceased brother, that though he meddled not at all in our present heats and differences as a party, having much better things to mind; yet, as a looker-on, he did very sadly lament them, and for several of the last years of his life he continued in the communion of our Church, and, as he himself told me, thought himself obliged in conscience so to do.

He died in the seventy-seventh year of his age, Oct. 29, 1681. It so pleased God that his death was very sudden— and so sudden, that in all probability he himself hardly perceived it when it happened, for he died in his sleep; so that we may say of him as it is said of David, "after he had served his generation according to the will of God, he fell asleep."

I confess that a sudden death is generally undesirable, and therefore with reason we pray against it, because so very few are sufficiently prepared for it: but to him the constant employment of whose life was the best preparation for death that was possible, no death could be sudden; nay, it was rather a favour and blessing to him, because by how much the more sudden so much the more easy: as if God had designed to begin the reward of the great pains of his life in an easy death. And indeed it was rather a translation than a death; and, saving that his body was left behind, what was said of Enoch may not unfitly be applied to this pious and good man with respect to the suddenness of his change-he "walked with God, and was not, for God took him."

The Gunpowder Plot.

[One or two expressions in this sermon shew stronger feeling-almost amounting to excitement-than is characteristic of Tillotson. He was not only roused by the subject, but by the threatening aspect of the times.]

I will not trouble you with the particular narrative of this dark conspiracy, nor the obscure manner of its discovery, which Bellarmine himself acknowledges not to have been "without a miracle." Let us thank God that it was so happily discovered and disappointed, as I hope their present design will be by the same wonderful and merciful providence of God towards a most unworthy people. And may the lameness and halting of Ignatius Loyola, the founder of the Jesuits, never depart from that order, but be a fate continually attending all their villanous plots and contrivances.

I shall only observe to you, that after the discovery of this plot the authors of it were not convinced of the evil, but sorry for the miscarriage of it. Sir Everard Digby, whose very original papers and letters are now in my hands, after he was in prison, and knew he must suffer, calls it "the best cause;" and was extremely troubled to hear it "censured by Catholics and priests, contrary to his expectation, for a great sin. Let me tell you," says he, "what a grief it is, to hear that so much condemned, which I did believe would have been otherwise thought of by Catholics." And yet he concludes that letter with these words, "In how full joy should I die, if I could do any thing for the cause which I love more than my life." And in another letter he says, he could have said something to have mitigated the odium of this business, as to that point of involving those of his own religion in the common ruin: "I dare not," says he, "take that course that I could to make it appear less odious, for divers were to have been brought out of danger, who now would rather hurt them than otherwise. I do not think there would have been three worth the saving that should have been lost." And as to the rest that were to have been swallowed up in that destruction, he seems not to have the least relenting in his mind about them. All doubts he seems to have looked upon as temptations, and entreats his friends "to pray for the pardoning of his not