noble piety, which shall not consist in phrases, and tone, and melancholy, and censure; but in vigorous zeal, uprightness, and integrity, and faithfulness of heart to God; a clear, cheerful, unaffected disposition, with a most ardent and bold love to God. So that we may not converse of God because it is our duty, but because our hearts are full of him, and we are used to it, so that we shall do it before we are aware. Then shall we sleep and awake with him, walk and sit in his presence, and live the life of angels upon earth. Nor shall it be in the power of the wicked one to inject peevishness, or quarrels, or displeasures, as being out of humour, the effects of folly and impiety, but we shall ever be one in the Lord. The Lord, if any, grant me such a companion."

He continued in a married state five years and five months; but the latter part of that time, it pleased God to allow him but little health; the last year especially, when his disorders returned more frequently, and with greater violence than before. Those bodily distempers shocked his resolutions of entering into holy orders, at least thus far, that if he should take that sacred character upon him, he would apply himself to the duties of it so far as he was able, but without undertaking a parochial cure: for thus I find him expressing himself some years before his death: "If my want of health should hinder me from taking a cure, which I very much apprehend, I could contentedly spend my time in the most profitable manner I was capable of, for the good of the church, particularly in devotional things, which seem to be my talent, and in which, without much more study,

I might hope to succeed." And such high thoughts had he, of the extent and difficulty of the pastoral duty, that he esteemed his frequent returns of sickness equivalent to a declaration of Providence, that he was not designed for the more laborious performances of it, though the bent of his desires was continually that way.

and death.

But even these desires were at last interrupted, by that fatal sickness which His sickness brought him to his end. For in April 1699, he was seized with a malignant fever, which about that time raged very much in Dublin; by it, his head was so much affected, that he had not a constant command of his thoughts, nor that undisturbed exercise of his faculties, which all men desire in those extremities. For some days of his sickness, his reason was clear, and to the last, he had frequent intervals of perfect understanding. And then it is impossible to conceive one in the greatest pain and anguish, more submissive, more patient, more resigned to the will of God: then prayers and praises were his only language, or calling upon others to pray for him. But no murmur, no complaint came out of his mouth. And though, no doubt, he had all the comforts of a good conscience, and powerful supports from God, in that great conflict of nature; yet he expressed himself with all that humility and awful concern which becomes a sinner, when he reflected upon that pure and holy God, at whose bar he was soon to be tried. Now," says he, "must I stand or fall before my great Judge." And when it was answered, that no doubt he would stand firm before him, through the

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merits of our crucified Saviour: his reply shews upon what a firm foundation he built his dependance and hopes: "It is in that," says he, " I trust; he knows it is in that I trust." And his last moments of reason were spent in those heavenly exercises, wherein every good man would desire to breathe out his soul; and which, to him, no doubt, were the happy beginnings of endless praises above. He died the twentyeighth day of April, 1699, in the forty-sixth year of his age; and his body lies interred in St. John's church in Dublin. Of three children, (two sons and a daughter) wherewith God had blessed him, the daughter only survived him. And he left behind him a truly afflicted widow, who, I am persuaded, will persevere to shew the world, how justly she prized his excellent qualities and tender love; and who has spared no pains to get his life and character published, that so some justice may be done to his memory, and the world benefited by his example. And even that child which did survive him, has since followed her father, after having lived so long as to shew that she inherited his virtues, the sweetness of his temper, his devoutness and patience; so that had it pleased God to continue her in the world, she promised to have been a very shining example of piety and goodness. And indeed, both from what I saw in her myself, and from the informations of others, upon which I entirely depend, I have been strongly inclined to mention some of her particular sayings and actions, and to give instances of her piety and patience at four, five, and six years old. But they are so extraordinary that I choose to sup

press them, because they would hardly obtain belief. I shall only observe from what I knew of that child, that parents do not begin time enough to form their children's minds to religion. Sin gets the first possession of their hearts, and they are taught lying and vanity much sooner than to love God, or pray to him. Whereas, if the same early care was used with the generality of children, as was taken with her, to give them such apprehensions of God, of sin, of truth, of heaven and hell, as they are capable of, though the success would not in many be equal to what it was in her, few having such natural dispositions to goodness as appeared in her, yet would it be such, as would go a great way in reforming the world, and making the next generation good and virtuous.

PART II.

HAVING thus gone through the most remarkable passages of Mr. Bonnell's life, and withal given the reader some general view of his piety and virtue; I shall now enter upon that part of this work, for the sake of which the rest was put together, and without which the world is not much concerned to know his story, and that is, particularly to describe his character and excellences to recommend him as a pattern worthy our imitation, in all the duties of the Christian life; and to shew from him, how beautiful Christianity is, when reduced to practice; when it becomes a rule of life and manners; and not, as it is with most men, confined to the thoughts, and made an unactive notion of the mind.

His person, temper, and accomplish

ments.

As to his person, he was tall, well-shaped, and fair. His aspect was comely, and shewed great sweetness, mixed with life and sprightliness. There was a venerable gravity in his look, a natural modesty, and sincere openness. But in the house of God his countenance had something in it that looked heavenly and seraphical; an undissembled piety; a devoutness that never can