The memoires of the lives and actions of James and William, Dukes of Hamilton and Castleherald, &c. in which an account is given of the rise and progress of the civil wars of Scotland, with other great transactions both in England and Germany, from the year 1625, to the year 1652 : together with many letters, instructions, and other papers, written by King Charles the I : never before published : all drawn out of, or copied from the originals / by Gilbert Burnet ; in seven books.

Anno 1650.

TO this account of IAMES Duke of Hamil∣ton's Actions, it may be expected I should add the remaining Memoires of his Brothers Affairs. But the time he survived was so full of Disor∣der and Confusion, that few Papers were pre∣served, and these so imperfect, that without ful∣ler Supplements than the Writer hopes for, no clear account can begiven of those Times; there∣fore there shall be only added somewhat by way of Character, with a general Relation of the following Passages of his Life.

William Duke of Hamilton was born at Hamilton on the 14^th of December in the year 1616. being ten years younger than his Brother,* 1.1 and of the same Parents. He was of a middle Stature, his Complexi∣on black, but very agreeable, and his whole Air and Meen was noble and sprightful: his Youth discovered with an extraordinary Capacity so much Ingenuity, that Candor seemed in him not so much the effect of vertue as nature, since from a Child he could never upon any tenta∣tion be made to lye.

When his Father died he left him very young to the care of his Mo∣ther, and the kindness of his Brother, with a very small Provision: but he confessed he never missed a Father in his Brother, who kept him not only at the University of Glasgow, where he was educated, but like∣wise in his Travels at a rate, and with an Equipage, suitable to his Qua∣lity. He travelled some years in France, where he was very much

esteemed, and invited to stay in that Court with very honourable Offers. He had a good foundation of Literature, though he was no great Scho∣lar; and what he once acquired, was rather improved than lost by him.

* 1.2He returned from his Travels when he was one and twenty years of Age, and was look'd on both by the King & Queen as a rare and highly promising Gentleman; and now that he was of an Age capable of it, his Brother and he entred into an entire Friendship. And finding him so rarely accomplished, and fitted for the greatest Affairs, he kept him with himself at Court; and though he depended wholly upon his Bro∣thers Generosity for his Subsistence, yet he was far from making him feel that, either by upbraiding him with his Favours, or by dispara∣ging him with any neglect, (Faults too commonly incident to Elder Broth••rs, when the Younger are obliged to stoop to them.) But as Lord William was too high-minded to have endured the least appea∣rance of those, so his Brother was not capable of giving him any such hard Usage, but allowed him all things suitable to his rank, and carried towards him with Respect as well as Affection.

He continued in the Court some years, being much esteemed by all sorts there: for as his Address was becoming, so his Converse was full of Life and Wit, and he was a great Master in all his Exerci∣ses. But his Brother was more careful to think of a Fortune for him than himself was, and therefore provided a Marriage for him, that had the expectation of a vast Fortune, Lady Elizabeth Maxwel, eldest Daugh∣ter to the Earl of Dirleton, (who had no Sons, and but one other Daughter.) It was not without reluctancy that he was engaged that way, but his Brothers Authority over him was absolute; so he was married to her in the year 1638, and continued still at Court. He had by her four Daughters that survived him, L▪ Ann, L. Elizabeth, L. Mary, and L. Margaret.

Afterwards he pretended to be made Master of the Horse to the Queen,* 1.3 but Her Majesty was engaged to another, which was much re∣sented by him, and made him resolve on leaving the Court and go∣ing into France. This grieved his Brother extremely, and both the King and Queen sent him a promise, that if he would give over thoughts of that Journey, he should be preferred to what-ever Place fell, that were fit for him. And a little after that, the Earl of Ster∣lin died, who was Secretary of State for Scotland, and the Queen mo∣ved the King to advance him to that Trust, to which his Majesty did willingly consent: for as he was glad of all opportunities of ex∣pressing his kindness to his Brother, so he saw in himself that which made him judge him both worthy and capable of any Imployment; and thereupon he made him Secretary, and created him Earl of Lanerick. He had every thing but years to recommend him to the highest Trust, being Witty, Considerate, Brave, Generous, and resolute to the high∣est Degree. He saw his Engagement in Affairs fell to be in such a disorder∣ed time, that he could not have appeared on the Scene with more disad∣vantage. He had no experience at all in Scotish Affairs, but for that he resolved to trust to his Brothers Informations and Advices; which did not only continue till he came to understand Persons and Affairs better,* 1.4 but that Noble Pair were all their lives united with bonds of Friendship straiter than those of their Blood. Calumny got no ac∣cess

to their Ears, nor Emulation and Jealousie room in their Hearts; and as their Friendship was never broke off with a Discord, so it was not so much as marred by a Mistake. They had both Interests, Friends, and Quarrels in common; they were pleasant in their Lives, nor was their Friendship divided in their Deaths, as appeared from the interchanged Preferences they gave one anothers Children in their Last Wills.

Both of them had peculiar Excellencies; yet even in those things, wherein the one was excelled by the other, there remained enough to term them both eminent. The Elder had the greater Temper and Com∣mand of his Passions, but this made him sometimes fall short of that A∣crimony and Authority which such Times and Services required. The Younger was more forward and resolute, yet sometimes this left his Temper behind it. The Elder as he had the advantage of Years and Ex∣perience, so he had the deeper Apprehensions, and the greater Fore∣sight; but the Younger had more Vivacity of Spirit and Readiness of Apprehension. The Elder was readier to forsee a Danger, and invent Objections, and the Younger quicker at Answering them, and finding Salvoes for all Difficulties. The Elders Converse was smoother, but more reserved; the Younger as he was the brisker, so he was the more frank, and was no less beloved: and in fine, the Elder spoke more gracefully, but the other had the better Pen.

He was most assiduous in his Imployment,* 1.5 to procure not only fa∣vourable Answers, but speedy Dispatches to all those who made their Addresses by him to the King. He frankly told every one whe∣ther he would serve them or not, for where he meant no Assistance he never disguised it with general Assurances: but where he promised Service he needed no new Applications, either to refresh his Memory or quicken his Diligence; and he was wont to say, he was sure there was no Person, whose sight His Majesty had so little reason to desire as his, since he never saw him, when there was any possibility of speak∣ing to him apart, but he moved him in one Suit or another. But his Confidence was grounded on this, that he gave the King no trouble with any desires of his own: his Reality this way obliged his Friends exceedingly, who used to complain, that though his Brother as far as his own Kindness could go was most obliging, yet he was averse from doing them such Services with the King as they desired of him.

He had a Vivacity of Apprehension beyond any about him,* 1.6 with a great conception of things, and quickly penetrated into mens Thoughts and Designs. His discourse was short, but nervous, witty, and full of Stings, when he had a mind to reflect on others; but he was soon heated, and kept his Fire pretty long. There was not a mean thought lodged in his Breast, all his Designs being noble and aspiring, which with the fervour of his Nature, made him pass for a very proud man among his Enemies. He was indeed gallant and generous to all de∣grees, and none alive was capable of a higher sense of Honour and Gratitude, nor more unable to stoop to anything that was sordid or mean.

For his Religion he was a true zealous Protestant,* 1.7 and his Opini∣ons about our unhappy Differences at home were the same with his Brothers. He had a great dislike of Church-mens pretending to meddle in Civil Affairs, finding it hurtful on all hands; and therefore was much for confining them to their own Work. In those Times when

things were like to run a risque in the Committee of Estates, most com∣monly the sense of the Commission of the General Assembly was brought in to declare how far Religion and the Covenant was concer∣ned in any Particular that was under Debate; and this swayed some, and over-awed others: but nothing was more odious to him than this Practice, and he wisely foresaw, and often said, that nothing could bring such a stain on Religion, in the minds of those who were too inclinable to receive bad impressions of it, as the officious and over-meddling Tempers of hot and indiscreet Church-men. His Practice in Devotion, in some of his last years, shewed him to be sincerely Reli∣gious.

He had for many years great Convictions on his Conscience of the true excellence of Religion, but humane infirmity prevailed too much over him, and he was not free of Blemishes: yet he found he had to do with a merciful God, who gave him such a Victory over those Snares, and such tender impressions of his Love, that long before his Death he was come to have that assurance of the Divine Goodness, that he was not only ready and willing but longing for Death. But his pro∣spect of it will appear better from his own Pen than any thing I can add, when he was entertaining himself in cold Blood with the seri∣ous Apprehensions of that grave Object, and penned his Latter Will, which shall be set down in its own place.

* 1.8The Afflictions he lay under in his last years, contributed not a little to the raising that sense of things in him, these having been the saddest years Scotland ever saw, in which he was overlaid both with publick and personal Troubles. Those which went nearest his Heart, and wounded it in its most sensible part, were first the Kings Murther, and then his Brothers; neither was he capable of so mean a thought, as to receive any allay to the last by the Dignity and Fortune which there∣by descended on him. The Friendship betwixt them had continued to the end sacred and inviolated, and as the Elder transmitted not on∣ly his Estate and Honour, but left also his personal Estate, Jewels, Plate, and Pictures (which were of great value) to his Brother, giving only Portions to his Daughters, trusting even the Writings for these to his Brother, to lessen them as he found the Estate might bear it; so the Younger judged himself bound in Honour and Gratitude to re∣turn such of those as were still in his power, (many of them having been either disposed of for defraying his necessary Expence in that troublesome Time, or lost in the Invasion of Scotland) again to his Brothers Daugh∣ter, whereby he prosecuted his Brothers first Design, who had provi∣ded the Honour and Fortune to descend on his own Daughters if his Brother had no Sons. And so much did he honour his Brothers Me∣mory, that Injuries done himself raised not such irreconcilable Resent∣ments in him as those had been done his Brother: neither was any Ad∣dress so welcome to him, as that which came with a respective Remem∣brance of his Brother; and he entailed his Friendship for him on his Daughters, who have desired me to acknowledge to the World, that in him they met with the tenderness of a Father, the kindness of a Friend, and every thing that was generously noble and obliging. And so desirous was he to have his Neece enjoy her Fathers Estate and Dig∣nity,* 1.9 that at his going to England he professed he was glad he had no Sons to lie in her way to it; adding, that if he had fourty Sons, he ra∣ther

wished it to her, than he could do to any of them. And for proof of this, though many Evidences might be given, yet I shall on∣ly add one Letter he wrote to her; and the Orders he gave to all that depended on him, discovered it to be no Complement, for it was as really performed as it was generously offered.

Dear Neece,

AMongst all my just Afflictions there is none lies so heavy upon me, as that I am still made incapable of paying that Duty to you which I owe you. It is the greatest Debt I owe on Earth, and which would most joy me to pay, as well from Inclination as from Nature and Obligations; but all Happiness being denied me, I cannot hope for that which would be the greatest.

Before this I hope you are settled in Hamilton, where you have, as is most just, the same Power your Father had, and I beseech you to dispose as absolutely upon every thing that is there. All I have interest in, so long as they will acknowledge me, will obey you; and I shall earnestly beg, that if there be any failings (either from persons, or in providing what you shall think fit to call for, which that Fortune can procure) to advertise me there∣of, and if it be not helped (so my Fortune can do it) let me be as infa∣mous as I am unfortunate. I will trouble you no longer, but pray the Lord to bless you with Comfort and Health.

Dear Neece,

Your real Servant, HAMILTON.

Campheer, the 10^th of June 1649.

As for those Princes whom he served,* 2.1 he had even as much Justice from Fame as his heart could wish, since none did ever fasten any ill Characters on him in that particular, except that little which was done at Oxford. But he who of all living knew his Brother best, acknow∣ledged that in this he had the better of him only by Fame, and that the longer he lived he discerned the more wisdom in his Designs, and honesty in all his Counsels: but that which made the difference was, that his Temper was more forward, and he often spoke out those Resentments which his Brother either had not with so much Passion, or chused to bury in his Breast.

Nothing did so much support his spirit under the heavy Pressure that lay over it, as the desire he had to preserve his Life for His Majesties Service, of which he was prodigal, when he saw it useless to his Ma∣ster, for his Life had been of a great while burdensome to him: and indeed it was no wonder to see Death so welcome to one who had so little reason to desire to live, and so much ground to hope in Death; for when the Tossings, and unjust unmerciful Usage he met with in those years he survived his Brother, are well looked into, it is a wonder they forced him not unto the horridest Resolutions imaginable, (I use his own words) and to pursue private and publick Injuries with a mortal Resentment: yet his zeal for the Kings Service, and the Countries Quiet, over-ruled all other thoughts. From Scotland he went to Hol∣land where he was scarce landed when he heard the sad and dismal news of the Kings Murder, nor had he recovered of the extreme

Grief that raised in him, when he heard likewise how his Brother was murthered, which afflicted him beyond expression; nor did any thing grieve him more than his laying down Arms at Sterlin, for when he saw too late how they had been abused in it, he censured it more se∣verely than any of his Enemies could do.

* 2.2In Scotland the Parliament (if that Meeting could ever deserve that name, wherein there were scarce any of the Nobility present) not on∣ly condemned the Engagement for the King, but passed an Act against all the Engagers, ranking them in several Classes, whence it got the name of an Act of Classes, whereby they were excluded from all Offi∣ces, publick Trust, and Vote in Parliament: nor were they ever to be admitted to Trust, till they had satisfied the Church by a publick professi∣on of their Repentance for their accession to the unlawful Engagement, as it was then called, and were by them recommended to the favour of the State; and those that ruled were resolved to readmit none, but such as would depend on them, and adhere to their Interests. They were also particularly severe to the Duke, for breaking Confinement, and leaving Scotland without their Pass. The Duke upon his arrival in Holland offered his Service to his Master, (our Gracious Soveraign who now Reigns) which he received and entertained with so much Royal Goodness, as if the Affection and Confidence of their Masters had been the Inheritance of these Brothers; and what the late King was to the Elder, his Majesty was to the Younger, who continues to this day to honour his Memory with the highest Commendations. And indeed his Royal Favour was not misplaced on one that was either unsensible or ungrateful, for never Subject served Master with more Honesty, Zeal, and Affection; so that no consideration either of Hope or Fear wrought so much on him, as the Affection he bore his Master: neither expressed he anxiety for any thing at his Death, save for His Majesties Person, fearing lest he might fall into their cruel hands, whom he knew to be thirsting for his Blood.

He stayed in the Netherlands till His Majesty came to Scotland;* 2.3 and though those that governed there were so much his Enemies, that they would have the King stand to their Act of Classes, and made that one of the Articles of their Treaty at Breda: yet the Duke seeing the desperate posture the Kings Affairs were in, and that no visible hope remained unless His Majesty settled fully with Scotland, was not only satisfied to consent to that severe Demand, but did earnestly press His Majesty to agree with that Kingdom, whatever might become of him. Many were for extremer Methods, and pressed the Duke to concur for making a forcible Impression upon Scotland: but he well foresaw the mischief of that Course, and how little could be promised from it; for as no great Concurrence could be expected in the condition things were then driven to, so all that could follow, even on a little success, was to expose the Country to the rage of a prevailing Army from England, against which Scotland entirely united would have had work enough, though it had not been weakned by a Civil War; and there∣fore he was against all Divisions, which might also have tempted the prevailing Party to joyn with the English Army.

The Treaty with the Scotish Commissioners was held at Breda, where things stuck long, their Demands being very high and uneasy to the King. The chief of the Commissioners was the Earl of Cassilis, who

did truly love the King and Kingly Government; so that when the U∣surpation proved sucessful by the Conquest of Scotland afterwards, though Usurper studied by the greatest Offers he could make to gain him to his Party, considering the high esteem he was in for his Piety and Vertue, could never prevail so far as to make him advance one step to∣wards him, even in outward Civilities: yet he was a most zealous Co∣venanter, but of so severe a Vertue, and so exactly strict to every thing, in which he judged his Honour or Conscience concerned, that he would not abate an ace of his Instructions, but stood his ground so that nothing could beat or draw him out of it. But he did it with so much Fairness and Candor, that the King, though troubled enough with the difficulties that bred him, yet was much taken with the O∣penness of his Proceeding with him, and conceived so high an Opi∣nion of his Fidelity to him, that nothing could ever cha••ge or lessen it: so so excellent a thing is Ingenuity that it begets an esteem wherever it is to be found, even when we are most displeased with the Instances in which it appears. The next in the Commission was the Earl of Lo∣thian, who though he was deeply engaged in Friendship and Interests with the Marquis of Argyle, yet was of a Noble Temper, had great Parts, and a high sense of Honour. The other Commissioners depen∣ded on them, and went easily along with them in what they agreed to.

The Commissioners, seeing the good Offices the Duke did, were willing he should return with his Majesty to Scotland Anno 1650, and enjoy the common Priviledges of Scotchmen, only be se∣cluded from all publick Trust, and from his Vote in Parliament. But the leading-men in Scotland judged it necessary for the Peace of that King∣dom, that the Duke might not return with His Majesty, and sent Or∣ders for stopping his Voyage. These Orders came not to Holland, before most of the Commissioners were aboard, only the Earls of Cassilis and Lo∣thian were ashore when they got them; they were much troubled to get such severe Commands, obliging them to break the Treaty they had so lately signed. But since most of their fellow-Commissioners were gone,* 2.4 and they without them made not a Quorum, they could do nothing, so that the Duke was suffered to return to Scotland with the King. But at His Majesties Landing, one appointed by the Parliament to put him from the King, required him to withdraw: and when the King pressed the Commissioners with the Articles of their Treaty, they said they could not oppose an Order of Parliament. The King was much offended with this, and was inclining to resent it, both as an unwor∣thy Usage and as a Breach of Treaty: but the Duke told him, that at that time Argyle was the person who was most able to render him considerable Service in Scotland; therefore though he knew he design∣ed nothing so much as his Ruin, yet he advised His Majesty to use all possible means to gain him absolutely to his Party, and to neglect himself as much as Argyle desired, and not at all to seem much concer∣ned in him; adding, that he knew when His Majesties Affairs were in a better posture, he would not forget his faithful Servants. (This particular His Sacred Majesty vouchsafed to tell the Writer.) It was in vain for him to claim either the benefit of the Treaty at Sterlin, or Breda, Interest and Jealousy prevailing more with these who then ruled than any other Tie; so the Duke was forced to retire to the Isle of Arran,* 2.5 where he stayed till the end of Ianuary 1651: nor could

his Petitions with the Intercessions of his Friends prevail for allowing him the liberty of coming to fight for his King and Country, so that he was forced to stay at Arran till the best half of Scotland was lost.

* 2.6But God who had suffered the Church-party to prevail long, did blast their Force and Success at once; for Cromwel upon the Parliament of Scotland's bringing home their King, entred it with his Army. The Church-party as they had no mind to invade England on the Kings ac∣count, so were very careful to declare that their Arming against Crom∣wel was not on the Kings account, which they excluded from the state of the Quarrel by an Act of their Committee; and declared that they stood only to their own Defence, against that Hostile Invasion which was contrary to their Covenant and Treaties. They were al∣so very careful to model their Army, so that neither Malignant nor Engager that had been of the Kings Party, should serve in it; for though when His Majesty came to their Army at Leith, the Souldiers were much animated by his Presence, and with the coming of two thousand brave Gentlemen with him to the Army, yet the Leaders of that Party pretended, that since the Malignants were in their Ar∣my God would be provoked to give them up to the Enemy, and therefore forced the King to leave the Army. They also forced away all those Gentlemen who came and offered their Service. I shall not pursue this account further, but only add, that notwithstanding all their Confidence of their Army, and though they had the Enemy at great disadvantages, so that he and all his Officers gavethemselves for gone; yet they were with very little Opposition broken and routed near Dunbar on the third of September 1650,* 2.7 and even those who two years before had insulted over the Misfortunes of the Engagement, were now themselves taught, how ill an Argument Success was to evince the Goodness of a Cause.

* 2.8This procured a great change in the Counsels of Scotland, for by that time the honester, and better part of the Clergy were by the Mur∣ther of the King, and the other Proceedings in England, filled with distast and horrour at them, and began to think how defective they had hitherto been in their Duty to the King, and therefore resolved to adhere more faithfully to it in all time coming. Others of the Church-party did also see, that as Cromwel was setting up a Common∣wealth in England, so they found many of the forwarder amongst them∣selves very much inclined to it in Scotland. This divided them from the o∣ther violent Party, & made them joyn more cordially with the King, and be willing to receive his other faithful Servants to oppose the Common Enemy; therefore it was brought under debate, if the Act of Classes that excluded them from Trust, should not be rescinded, and all Sub∣jects allowed to enjoy their Priviledges, and suffered to resist the Com∣mon Enemy: after long debate it was carried in the Affirmative, yet none vvere to be received but upon particular Applications and Professions of Repentance.* 2.9 The Commission of the Kirk being also asked their Opinions, declared, that in such an Exigency, vvhen the Enemy vvas Master of all on the South of Forth and Clide, all fensible persons might be raised for the Defence of the Country. This vvas called the Re∣solution of the Commission of the General Assembly, and was rati∣fied by the subsequent General Assembly. But against this many Ministers protested, and from thence arose great Heats and Divisions

among those of the Kirkmen, who owned the Publick Resolutions,* 2.10 and those who Protested against them, the one being called the Publick-Resolutioners, and the other Protesters. And now all Churches were full of pretended Penitents, for every one that offered his Service to the King, was received upon the Publick profession of his Repentance for his former Malignancy, wherein all saw they were only doing it in compliance to the peremptory Humour of that time.

It was about the end of Ianuary that the Duke was suffered to come and wait on the King;* 2.11 but at that time Cliddisdale, with the other Pla∣ces where his Interest lay, were in the Enemies hands, who had put Garrisons in Hamilton, Douglas, Carnwath, Boghall, and other Houses of that Country. Yet the Duke got quickly about him a brave Troop of about an hundred Horse, made up of many Noblemen and Gentlemen. who rode in it, among whom were divers Earls and Lords, whose Lands being also possessed by the Enemy, they could do no more but hazard their own Persons in his Majesties Service; the rest were his Vas∣sals and Gentlemen of his Name: and they were commanded under him by a gallant Gentleman, Sir Thomas Hamilton of Preston, whom he sent with 18 Horse to Cliddisdale, to try if the Enemy could be catched at any disadvantage, and the People of the Country raised for the King. The Enemy kept so good Guards, and was so strong at Hamilton, that he could not fall in there; therefore he went to Douglas, where he took about 80 Horse that belonged to the Garrison, but could not sur∣prize the House, for it was too strong to be taken without Cannon. He likewise took all the Horse that belonged to the Garrison at Boghall, and killed twenty Souldiers. This made the Enemy keep closer at Ha∣milton, upon which the Duke resolved to raise ten Troops of Horse, and appointed Sir Thomas Hamilton Lieutenant-Collonel; but the Ene∣mies Garrisons gave great interruptions to his Designs.

At that time the Enemy landed at Innerkeething in Fife,* 2.12 and the great Loss the King had there, did both raise the Enemies boldness, and much daunt his faithful Friends: for now Cromwell was betwixt His Majesty and the Northern Counties of Scotland, which were both most affe∣ctionate to his Service, and from whence he was to expect Provisions and Supplies; so that it was not possible for the King to maintain the War any longer in Scotland, and therefore he resolved on a March to England, being put in hopes of great Accessions of force to his Army from the Royal Party there: and this gave a trial to the Fidelity and Courage of many of the Scotish Nation: but too many looking on the Attempt as desperate, being more careful of their Lives and Fortunes than to hazard either in the King's Service, shrunk away, though divers of them had Charges in the Army. Against these base Deserters of their King and Country, the Duke was moved with such just Indignation, that he vowed if ever he returned with Life and Liberty, he should make these in whom he had interest answer for it.

But the Duke's thoughts of this March, and his sad apprehensions of the whole Business, will appear from the following Letter he wrote to his Neece that succeeded him.

Dear Neece,

INdeed I know not what to say to you, I would fain say something more en∣couraging than my last was; but I cannot lie, our Condition is no better, and since that time we have a thousand men (I fear twice that number) run from our Army. Since the Enemy shuns Fighting with us, except upon ad∣vantage, we must either starve, disband, or go with a handful of Men into England. This last seems to be the least Ill, yet it appears very desperate to me, for more reasons than I will trouble you with: I fear your own Reason will afford you too many. Dear Neece, it is not your Courage I will desire you to make use of in this Extremity, look for Strength to bear it from a high∣er Power, all your Natural Virtues will not resist it; therefore look to him who hath in former times assisted you to resist a great Affliction, and can do it again if you seek to him aright; you have already lost so much, that all other Earthly Losses were drowned in that. Those you meet with now are Christian Exercises, wherewith oftimes the Lord visits his own to wean their Affections from things here below, that we may place them upon himself, in whom we have all things; and if we could, as we ought, set our Hearts upon him, we should find our selves very little concerned in most things which bring us greatest Trouble here on Earth, where we are but for a minute in our way to Eternity. O consider that word Eternity, and you will find we strug∣gle here for that, that's even less than nothing; why trouble we our selves for Earthly Losses? for when we have lost all we have, there are thousands as dear to God as we, as poor as we. We are rich though we lose the whole World if we gain him: let us set before our eyes the example of those, who to give testimony to the Truth, rejoyced to lay down their Lives; nay, let us with humble presumption follow the Pattern of our Blessed Saviour, who for our sakes suffered more than man can think on, the burthen of all our Sins, and the Wrath of his Father: and shall we then repine to lay down our Lives for him, when he calls for it from us, to give us a nearer admittance to him, than we can hope for while we are clog'd with our Clay-Tenements. Dear Neece, I should never be weary to talk with you, though this be a Sub∣ject I confess I cannot speak of well; but even that Happiness is bereft me, by the importunity of a Crowd of Persons that are now in the Room with me, grudging the time I take in telling you, that while I am,

I am Yours, &c.

Sterlin, 28^th July, 1651.

The Duke waited on the King in the whole March, and gave Order that the Troops which he had levyed should follow with all possible haste. Seven of them came up, and joyned the Army at Moffet, but the interruptions the Enemy gave, made that the rest could not be rai∣sed; nor were these Troops full. The Duke welcomed them with great affection, and assured them they should be as dear to him as his own Life, and that if God blessed the King with Success, he should be very careful to see them rewarded as they should deserve: but seeing they made in all but betwixt two and three hundred, he feared too many Standards would make them look like the remains of a broken Army; and therefore he set up only his own Standard, and so turned his small Regiment into a great Troop, and marched on with the Army.

When the Army came to Warington-Bridge,* 3.1 and beat Lambert from it, the Duke Commanded the Brigade (where his Horse were) that was in the Reer of the Foot;* 3.2 but that and the other Brigade of Horse be∣ing commanded to halt, he sent his Major to the Lieutenant-General, for Orders to March, that the Enemy might be vigorously pursued: but the Lieutenant-General would have the Foot led over first, and so that occasion was lost, which he with many others did infinitely greater with great demonstrations of Grief. Then it was debated, which way the King should hold: the Duke pressed that they should March streight to London, which was the desire of the whole Army, and that which Lambert apprehended, for in his Retreat he took the Lon∣don-Road. There were also many other reasons used to enforce it, but the English Nobility and Gentry, who were in the Army, and the Earl of Derby, who with many Gentlemen came to the Army that night, gave many reasons against that March. The Duke seeing them so much against it, though his Reason could not go along with theirs; yet that he might not oppose so many brave and LoyalGentlemen, went out of the Kings Tent, for he would not by his Presence seem to con∣sent to that which he apprehended would prejudice the Kings Ser∣vice: but was so far from disparaging the other Counsels, and enhan∣cing the value of his own, that he went and laboured with all the Offi∣cers of the Army, to engage them to a cheerful Concurrence in the Re∣solutions that were taken, and studied even to perswade them to assent to that which had not yet prevailed on his own Reason.

The Resolution being taken to go to Worcester and storm it,* 3.3 the Army marched, and when they came near the Town, some Horse and Dragoons which were sent thither by Lambert two days before, retired to Glocester; and the King entred Worcester with two Bodies of Foot, the rest Marched through the Town over the Severn. The day after the King came to Worcester, the Duke with many of the Nobility and Gentry went to the Cross, and himself read the Kings Proclamation, and caused the Major of the Town to proclaim it; but God having de∣signed to set his Majesty on the Throne of his Ancestors by his own Immediate Hand, all hopes of supplies from Wales, or other well-affected Places, vanished. Cromwell also followed the King from Scotland in great Marches, having left General Monk (since the famous Duke of Albe∣marle) there with an Army to subdue the little strength that remained for maintaining his Majesties Interest in that Kingdom. The day after Crom∣wel came before Worcester, the King called a great Council of War, to con∣sider what was to be done, where the Duke spoke first, and after he had in as short terms as was possible opened the state of Affairs, he said one of three things must be done; Either they were to March out and fight, to lie still and provide for a Siege, or to March to London, the other side of the Severn being then free. He proposed the Difficulties of all these, yet said one of them was to be done, and desired that his Majesty might put it to the debate, which of them was fittest. None proposed a fourth Expe∣dient. But the Duke did afterwards suggest, if the Marching into Wales might be adviseable; but as they were in the debate, before the half of the Council of War had delivered their opinions, there came an Alarm to the door that dissolved the Meeting. This was four days before the Fight, the Enemy grew daily stronger, and raised the whole Country to his Assistance; and as the Kings small Army was utterly disproporti∣oned

to their Strength, so the Courage of the Souldiers did daily abate; and the Duke as he clearly foresaw the ruine of the Kings Affairs at that time, and the Captivity of his Country that would follow; so he desired not to out-live it,* 3.4 which he plainly told to some of his more intimate Friends, though for incouraging others, he put on a great ap∣pearance of Cheerfulness on his looks: but apprehending that his End drew nigh, notwithstanding all the Attendance he was obliged to at Court, and with the Army; yet he set off large portions of his Time for reviewing his Life, and fitting himself for Eternity; and when his Imployment all day denied him the conveniency of such long and serious Retirements as that Work required, he took it from his sleep in the night, being more solicitous for rest to his Mind than to his Body And the night before the often fatal third of September, which was the day of Worcester-Fight, though he had stayed very late in the Court; yet when he came to his Lodgings, the apprehensions he had of what was before him kept him awake and serious, as will appear from the following Paper which he wrote, and was found in his Pockets when they were searched after his Death.

* 3.5WHEN sadness for any Worldly Cross lies heavy upon thee, remember thou art a Christian, designed for the Inheritance of Iesus; or if thou be an obstinate impenitent Sinner, as sure as God is just thou must perish; if this be thy Condition I cannot blame thee to be sad, sad till thy heart∣strings crack. But then why art thou troubled for the loss of Friends, For∣tune, or for any Worldly want? what should a damned man do with any of these? did ever any man upon the wrack afflict himself because his Mistress slighted him, or call for the particulars of a Purchase upon the Gallows? if thou dost really believe thou shalt be damned, I do not say it will cure all other Sadness, but certainly it will, or ought to swallow it up.

And if thou believest thou shalt be saved, consider how great is that Ioy, how infinite is that Change, how unspeakable is the Glory, how excellent is the Re∣compence for all thy Sufferings in the World. So let thy Condition be what it will, compared to thy future possibility, thou canst not feel the present smart of a cross Fortune to any great degree, either because thou hast a far bigger Sorrow or a far bigger Ioy. Here thou art but a Stranger travelling to a Country, where the Glories of a Kingdom are prepared for thee; it is there∣fore a huge folly to be much afflicted, because thou hast a less convenient Inn to Lodge in by the way.

Let us prepare our selves against Changes always expecting them, that we be not surprized when they come. O death, how bitter art thou to a man that is at rest in his Possessions; to the rich man, who had promised himself ease and fulness for many years, it was a sad Arrest that his Soul was surprized the first night. But the Apostles who every day knockt at the Gate of Death, and lookt upon it continually, went to their Martyrdom in peace and evenness. Anytus and Miletus may kill me, but they cannot hurt me: we are troubled on every side, but not distressed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed: and who is he that will harm you, if ye be followers of that which is good?

Consider that Afflictions are oft-times the occasions of great Temporal Ad∣vantages, and we must not look upon them as they sit heavy us, but as they serve some of Gods ends, and the purposes of Vniversal Providence: and when a Prince fights justly, and yet unprosperously, could he see the rea∣sons

for which God orders it, he would find it unreasonable, nay ill, to have it otherwise. If a man could have opened one of the Pages of Divine Counsel, and seen the event of Joseph's being sold to the Merchants of Midian, he might with much reason have dried up the young mans Tears. The case of Themistocles was not much unlike th••t of Joseph, for being banished he likewise grew in favour with the Persian King, and told his Wife, he had perished unless he had perished. God esteems it one of his Glories to bring good out of evil, and therefore it were but reason we should leave God to go∣vern his own World as he pleases, and that we should patiently wait till the Change come, and likewise not envy the Prosperity of the wicked. Rest in the Lord, and wait patiently for him; fret not thy self because of him who prospereth in his way, because of the man who brings wicked de∣vices to pass; for evil doers shall be cut off, but those that wait upon the Lord shall inherit the Earth. Theramenes, one of the Thirty Tyrants of Athens, escaped when his house fell upon him, but was shortly after put to Death by his Colleagues in the Tyranny.

The last great Trial is Death, for which should we grieve, of all griefs it is the most unreasonable: for why should we grieve at that which is absolutely unavoidable? and it is not so much to be cared for how long we live, as how well we live, for that Life is not best which is longest. The shortning of our days is an Evil wholly depending on Opinion, for if men did now naturally live but Twenty years, then we should be satisfied if they died about 16 or 18. We call not that Death immature in any who live to Seventy, and yet this Age is as far short of the old Period before and since the Flood, as he who now dies of eighteen is of Seventy. Let us still be ready for it, and it can∣not come too soon, for let us die young or old, still we have an Immortal Soul, and do lay down our Bodies for a time, as that which was the In∣strument of our Sorrow and Trouble, and the Scene of Sickness and Dis∣eases: let us not then fear that which rids us of all these, for by fearing it we shall never the more avoid it, but make it the more miserable to us. Fanius who killed himself for fear of Death, died as certainly as Porcia who eat burning Coals, or Cato who tore out his own Bowels. To die is necessary and natural, and may be honourable; but to die poorly, basely, and sinfully, that alone is that which can make a man miserable, for no man can be a Slave but he that fears pain, or fears to die; to such a man nothing but peaceable times can secure his Quiet, for he depends upon things without him for his Felicity, and so is well but during the Pleasure of his Enemy, a Thief or a Tyrant: but blessed is he who willingly resigns his Soul and Body into Gods hands, as unto the hands of a blessed Creator and Redeemer.

O Blessed Iesus, thou didst die for me, grant that I may with Ioy submit un∣to thy Summons, when thou shalt call me to Death, for thou art my Ad∣vocate as well as my Iudge, and camest into the World to save sinners, whereof, O Lord, I acknowledg I am the greatest: but thy Mercies are infinite, O God of Mercy and God of all Comfort, with much mercy look upon the sad∣ness and sorrow of thy Servant; my Sins lie heavy upon me, and press me sore, by reason of thy hot displeasure; my Miseries are without comfort, because they are the punishments of my Sins: my Sin hath caused my sorrow, and my sorrow doth not cure my Sin, and unless thou for thy own sake, and meerly because thou art good, pity me, I am as much without Remedy as without Comfort. Lord pity me, let thy Grace refresh my spirit, let thy Comfort support me, thy Mer∣cies

pardon me, and let not my portion be among helpless and accursed Spirits, for thou art good and gracious, and I throw my self upon thy Mercy; suffer me never to let my hold go, anddo then with me what seems good in thy own eyes. I cannot suffer more than I have deserved, and yet I can need no Relief so great as thy Mercy is, for thou art infinitely more merciful than I can be mise∣rable. Lord, make me the object of thy Mercy, both in my Life and in my Death; & if even this day thou shalt think fit to remove me from this valley of miseries, either by the violent hand of this merciless Enemy, or any other way which in thy Providence thou hast ordained, when my Soul shall go out from the Prison of this Body, may it be received by Angels, and preserved from the horrour and amazements, and the surprize of Evil Spirits, and be laid up in the Bosom of our Lord, till at the day of thy second Coming it shall be reunited to the Body; which is now to be laid in the dust, yet I hope shall be raised up in Ioy to live for ever, and behold the Face of God in the Glories of our Lord Iesus, who is our Hope, our Resurrection, and our Life, our Blessed and ever-Glorious Redeemer, to whom with the Father and the Holy Spirit be all Honour and Glory, for ever and ever. Amen.

In these Exercises he continued till it was almost morning; and then he threw himself down on the Bed, where he did not lie above two hours when he was called on to make ready, and assoon as he was Dressed and Armed, he waited on the King into the Field.

* 3.6The Account of that Engagement is not here to be offered, since nothing belongs to this Work but that wherein the Duke was con∣cerned. His Regiment was commanded to charge a Body of Horse and Foot, that stood near two peece of Cannon not far from the Severn: but there were two great Bodies of Foot standing on each side of the Lane, through which they were to go, and these firing on them as they pas••ed, they received great Loss; but having got through the Lane, there was no coming to the Enemy, who stood in a close Ground, but through aGap in the Hedge, through which theLieutenant Collonel with a very inconsiderable Number Charged, and the Enemy gave ground, and left the Cannon in their hands, the Horse retiring to Hacker's Re∣giment, who came up and Charged, and was gallantly received by the Lieutenant Collonel and the Dukes Regiment: but some Foot brought to line the Hedges on their Flanks, Fired so on them that they were forced to retire. The Duke being near the Kings Person, and observ∣ing all that passed, inquired who they were, and being told it was his own Regiment,* 3.7 he thought it unworthy of him to be too far from Danger, when they were so put to it, and galloped all alone from the King to the place where they were; where he found them retiring, and did all he could either by words or threatnings to make them keep their Ground. But the Enemy did still bring up more Foot, and Fired uncessantly on them, and most of the Officers were either wounded, or had their Horses killed under them; particularly the Lieutenant Collo∣nel, who had all the while Charged very gallantly, had his Horse shot under him, and so they were beaten back. The Duke himself keeped in the Reer, with such as were in a Condition to wait on him, to the great hazard of his Person, and gave signal demonstrations of a high Courage: but the Enemy following him close in great Bodies, he com∣manded some Foot to make good the Hedge against them, and rode up and down among them, and encouraged them to stand and die for the

Service of their King, and the Honour of their Country;* 3.8 and did se∣veral times Charge down to the Hedges, so that all were astonished at such daring and unusual Valour. But the Enemy pressing on, he rode again with his Pistol in his hand to the Hedge, where he received the fatal Shot that quite disabled him.* 3.9 His Majesty hearing of the extreme Danger he exposed himself to in these Charges, and knowing well how great a loss he would suffer, if so brave a Commander and such a wise and faithful Counsellor were killed, sent once & again to call him away from that Hazard he was in, but he choosed to prefer his Majesties Service to these most obliging Commands; yet being disabled by the Wound he got, he was forced to retire to the Town.* 3.10 The total routing of the Army quickly followed, and by the taking of Worcester that night he fell into the Enemies hands.

When he came to his Lodgings his Wound was searched by the Kings Surgeon, Mr. Kincaid, who found that by a slug-shot the Bone of his Leg, a little below the Joynt, was crushed, and so broken that many Splinters with the Bullet were taken out at first dressing, and ma∣ny more fragments were at several other dressings separated from the Bone; and the Surgeon told him, the only way to save his Life, was to lose his Leg. But Trappam, Cromwel's Surgeon, being sent by him to wait on the Duke, assured him there was no hazard. Two days after the Duke was wounded, the Kings Physitian, Sir Robert Cunningham, being found out among the Prisoners, was brought to him, who found he had lost much blood by his Wound, and therefore opened a vein in his Arm, which diverted the Course of the Blood. Then the Duke asked his opinion about him, who told him plainly, there was no hope of saving his Life but by cutting off his Leg, and if that were done some hopes remained; but Trappam having assured him there was no hazard, he was not willing to submit to so severe a Sentence, till he were further satisfied of its being absolutely necessary: therefore he sent to London for Mr. Dickson, who was an expert Surgeon, in whom he had great Confidence, and he came to him with all possible haste; but it was too late, for the Dukes Strength and Spirits were so wasted that they durst not adventure on the Operation. During these few days of the Dukes Life, he expressed great Composure of mind, and a chearful willingness to welcome his approaching End, which drew on a-pace; nor shewed he anxiety or concern in any thing but his Majesties Preservation, for which as he prayed constantly, so he still enquired News concerning him, and blessed God that he heard none, judging from that that he was safe and had escaped. On the 8^th of Sep∣tember, finding his Strength failing him, and looking on himself as a dead man, he sent his last thoughts to his Lady and Neeces in the fol∣lowing Letter written with his own Hand.

Dear Heart,

YOV know I have been long labouring, though in great weakness, to be prepared against this expected Change,* 4.1 and I thank my God I find Comfort in it, in this my day of Tryal; for my Body is not more weakned by my Wounds, then I find my Spirit Comforted and Supported by the infinite Mercies and great Love of my Blessed Redeemer, who will be with me to the end and in the end.

I am not able to say much more to you, the Lord preserve you under your Tryals, and sanctifie the use of them to the Comfort of your Soul.

I will not so much as in a Letter divide my dear Neeces and you; the Lord grant you may be constant Comforts to one another in this Life, and send you all Eternal Happiness with your Saviour in the Life to come: to both of your Cares I recommend my poor Children, let your great Work be to make them early accquainted with God, and their Duties to him; and though they may suffer many wants here before their Removal from hence, yet they will find an inexhaustible Treasure in the Love of Christ. May the Comforts of the Blessed Spirit be ever near you in all your Straits and Difficulties, and suffer not the least repining to enter into any of your Hearts for his Dispensations to∣wards me, for his Mercies have been infinitely above his Iustice in the whole Pilgrimage of,

Dear Heart,

Your Own, HAMILTON.

Worcester, Sept. 8. 1651.

* 4.2ON the 11^th of September the Dukes Pulse failed quite, which he discerned first himself, and called for his Physician to whom he said he felt no pain nor sickness, but could not discern his Pulse to move, and no more did his Physician; but imputing it to malignant vapors rising from his Wound, he gave him some Cordials which made no Change upon him: and then his Spirits quitting all their Natural operations retired to his Brain, and his Intellectual Faculties, his Memo∣ry, Reason, and Expression continued in their vigor for the space of twelve hours; after that, his Voice was likewise entire and strong. The total cessation of the Arterial Motion, together with a Marmore∣ous coldness, that was creeping up by degrees from all his extremities, made his Physician warn him that Death was approaching; the Duke answered, that from the beginning he apprehended his Wound would prove Mortal, but he could not think Death was so near him, since he found neither sickness, pain, fainting, nor oppression trouble him. He had been during his Sickness oft waited on both by the Ministers of Worcester, and the Ministers who waited on the Kings Army, whom he called for; and as they Prayed and ministred Divine Consolations to him, so they were much comforted and edified with the Christian Courage and Joy he exprest in these his last and closest Conflicts. From six in the morning on the 12^th of September he lay quiet speaking little, but was observed all the while by these who looked often to see what he was doing, that he was well imployed in mental Prayer and devout Ejaculations. About nine a Clock being asked by his Physi∣cian how he was, he answered his Heart was free of Sickness; but ad∣ded, That he should tell his Relations in Scotland, that he died believing, that through the Merits of the Mediator the Lord Iesus C••rist, the Lord his Righteousness, and through the infinite Mercies of his God, it should fare with him as with the idle Labourers, in the Parable of the Vineyard, who went in at the 11^th hour and yet received the peny; so he believed, that though in the last hour of the day he had entred into his Masters Service, yet he should receive his peny. From that time he lay quiet, and about twelve a Clock, after three groans, without any other struggling or passion of Death, he breathed out his Soul, and his Body was interred in the Cathedral

Church of Worcester;* 4.3 for though according to his Orders for burying him with his Ancestors at Hamilton, his Servants did move earnestly that they might have leave to carry his Body to Scotland, yet it was flatly denied.

When the news of his Death was carried to Scotland, his Will was opened, which follows.

In the Name of God, Amen.

I William Duke of Hamilton, &c. being, I thank God, in perfect Health; yet considering the uncertainty thereof, and the many Dangers that all men are subject to, and few more than my self, am desirous to leave my World∣ly Affairs at the time of my Death in the best order I can, as it shall please the Lord to direct me, to whose Providence and Dispensation I humbly and wholly submit my self, falling down before the Throne of his Mercy, who is both the just Inflicter of Death upon us, and the merciful Saviour of us in it, and from it; who is the fountain of Eternal Life, and in whom there is no shadow of Death. Thou, O my Saviour, who knows what it is to die with me as a man, make me to know what it is to pass through Death to Life with thee, my God: make me content to leave the World's Nothing, that I may come really to enjoy All in Thee, who hast made Christ to me in Life gain, and (trusting only in his Merits, and Mediation) will in Death be advan∣tage. Charge me not, O Lord, with the Sins of my Parents, nor with the mul∣titude and hainousness of my Transgressions, which I acknowledge before thee. Remember thy Compassions of old, and thy Loving kindness which have been for many Generations. Be merciful unto me, O Lord, for my Soul trusteth in thee; though thou shouldest kill me, yet will I trust in thy Mercy, and my Saviour's Merits, for I know that my Redeemer liveth: though thou leadest me through the valley and shadow of Death, yet shall I fear none Evil, fal∣ling into the Arms of thy tender and Eternal Mercies. O withdraw not thy Favour from me, which is better than Life; be not far from me, for I know not how near Death is to me. Lord, let thy Servant depart in peace, for mine eyes have seen thy Salvation.

My Body I bequeath to the Grave, and desire to have it buried in the ordi∣nary Burial-place of my Ancestors at Hamilton, and that no Ceremony nor Pomp at all be used at the interring of my sinful Carcase, which hath so much offended and dishonoured God; yet through Faith I hope it shall be sprinkled with the precious Bloud of Iesus Christ, and being re-united with my Soul, shall together rise in Glory, reconciled with the Father, to enjoy Eternal Hap∣piness with him in Heaven.

After this follow the Particulars of the Will, which he concludes in the following Words.

And now, O Lord, pity me in my low Condition, and bring me out of my Troubles; though the number of my Enemies be great, yet thou canst disap∣point their Counsels; keep them, Lord, from prevailing, and turn them back that persecute my Soul. If it be thy Will, O Lord, restore me to my Country, that there in peace I may finish the course of my Pilgrimage in thy fear, and live loyal and obedient to my Gracious King Charles the Second, and faith∣ful and dutiful to my Country: and as I trust that through the Merits and

Mediation of Iesus Christ,* 5.1 thou hast forgiven all the errors of my Life, so I beg and hope thou wilt save me from the terrors of Death. Let not, O Lord, at that last hour my Soul be desolate and forsaken; let not those saving Truths I have formerly learned then fail my Memory, nor the sweet effusions of thy Spirit which I have sometimes felt, then be wanting to my Heart; be with me at that time, O Lord, in a special manner, and send the blessed Comforter to assure me of Salvation, that I may die with Ioy, and leave this World with Contentment, since I shall be confident of the Re∣mission of my sins through Christ Iesus, and of my going to that place of eternal Happiness, which thou hast prepared for all them that fear thee in Christ; to which place bring me for his sake, to whom with thee and the blessed Spirit of Grace be all Honour, Praise and Glory, for ever and ever, Amen. Written by my self at the Hague in Holland the 21^th of March 1650.

HAMILTON.

To which shall be added a Letter that was Sealed up with his Will to his Lady.

Dear Heart,

ALthough a very short stay in this place may possibly endanger my Life▪ yet seeing these may chance to be the last words you are ever to receive from me, no hazard shall keep me from letting you know how sensible I am of the great Love and Kindness you have always had for me, for which the Lord reward you, unto whose Protection I leave you: and as I do recommend you to God, who will be near unto all that call upon him, and fulfil the desires of them that fear him, and preserve all them that love him; so I do recommend you unto your self, that you would labour to serve, fear, and love the Lord God, and set him before your eyes in all your ways. Continue (as I have often been a witness to) your daily practice in reading the Word of God, which will be a Lamp unto your feet, and Light unto your paths. Look not with preju∣dice upon any of the Messengers of his Word, but reverence them for their Mes∣sage sake: be not too confident of your own Opinions, but examine them by the Touchstone of Gods Word, and refuse not to hear the admonition of his Ser∣vants. Repine not at Gods ways or dispensations to you, but be patient in Affliction, that you may say with David, I held my tongue, I opened not my mouth, because thou didst it. For you may have this Comfort that whom God loves he Chastens, and really if God had not said it, man would hardly believe that Affliction cometh from his Love. But if we admit his Truth, and consider Experience, we shall find that he often afflicteth them most, whom he loveth most, and who most love him. As for those whose eyes stand out with fatness, and have more than their hearts can wish, he set∣teth them on slippery places, and feeds them as Oxen to the Slaughter. He is nearer to us in Affliction than in Prosperity, and weare nearer unto him: it is his menage to bring us home from our Wandrings, at least I have lookt upon it so as to my self, which makes me thus desire you may so receive his Visitations. Be frequent in Prayer, & limit not the Spirit in you to the conceptions of other men: shun all vain and idle Company and Conversation, and pray to the Lord to set a watch before your mouth, and to keep the door of your lips. Forget and hate the empty pleasures of a licentious Court, or of London, and with

David pray, Turn away my eyes from beholding vanity,* 6.1 and quicken thou me in thy way. Be not hasty nor passionate, keep not anger in your heart against any, have Charity for all men, even for them whom you may look upon as your Enemies, and study still rather to put the best than worst con∣struction upon the Actions of any. Examine your self every night what good you have done the preceding day, and remember still that you are one day nearer that in which you must give an account to God of all your Actions, on whose Mercy to you let your earliest and latest thoughts be always fixt. Sweet Heart, much more I would say, but you know I am pressed by time; but seek to God, and in him you will find all things.

The next Duty I shall recommend to you, is, that which you must pay your King: I know you need no Incitements to this Duty, else I would insist longer upon it; but I conceive it mine to recommend it to you as the Earthly thing which in the first place you ought to study.

Next unto that prefer your Duty to the preservation of the House of Ha∣milton to all things else in this World, and make no difference in the testi∣monies of your kindness to it, whether the Lord shall think fit to continue the memory of that House in your own or my dear Brothers Issue. And I do conjure you, if you have any respect to my desires, not to suffer any difference or mistakes to arise betwixt you and them; but remember him who prefer'd me to them, and what consequently my Duty and yours is to his.

Next I recommend to you the care of the Education of our Children: for the Lords sake study to get them acquainted with God in their young years, and to imprint his fear in their tender hearts, keep all light and idle company from them, and labour to make them rich in Piety and Vertue, Loyal to their King, and dutiful to the House of Hamilton.

As I hope all my Friends and Kindred will be dutiful to you, so I intreat you for my sake continue your respects and kindness to them.

Be careful to keep none but pious and discreet Servants in your Family, that the Lord being served and worshipped in it according to his Will, may de∣light to dwell in it, and to bless every member of it.

And now, Sweet Heart, seeing you know that these divers years my Life hath been a burden to me, receive my Removal as a Mercy from God, with that moderation which he commandeth, and the hope of a Ioy∣ful meeting in our Resurrection perswadeth; being confident that the Lord hath placed me in Eternal Happiness with himself in Heaven, where he hath already laid up some pieces of my self, little James and Diana. The Lord who hath wounded you, bind up your sores, and pour the Balm of Gilead in your Heart; even the Comforts of the Holy Spirit, in the assurance of the Re∣mission of your sins, and peace with him in Iesus Christ, that his Grace in you may shine to the World in a godly and vertuous Life, which having finished in his fear, you may hereafter enter with him into that Glory, which I trust in the Mercies and Mediation of Iesus Christ my Redeemer I shall be shareing of, when you shall be reading these last words and expressions from, Dear Heart,

Your HAMILTON.

THe Dispositions which you made to me of your Lands in England, I do here again return to you, to be disposed upon by you as you shall think fit, being confident that you will not wrong the House of Hamilton, or your Children, in the Disposal thereof.

* 6.2I shall conclude this Work with these Papers, which, though some nice Palats may think not so fit for the Publick, and better for private Closets than the World, yet I could not be of that opinion; for in an Age in which the sense of Piety and Religion is so much decayed, I thought such testimonies to the Power of it were not to be suppressed; by which it will appear, that a high-spirited and Great Person, who had tasted of all the Follies that bewitch the greatest part of men, did in end, in the vigour of his Years and Spirits, abandon them with all the seri∣ousness of a hearty and lively Repentance, and found in God and true Religion such solid satisfaction and joy, as did wholly overcome him, and engage him into a course of strict Piety and of a holy Life. I wish this may work some effect upon a loose and debauched Generation, and if the World becomes either better or wiser through my pains, I have gained my chief end and design in this Work.

THE END.

Notes

• * 1.1

  The Character of William Duke of Ha∣milton.
• * 1.2

  His appearance at Court.
• * 1.3

  He is made Secretary of State.
• * 1.4

  The Friend∣ship betwixt his Brother and him.
• * 1.5

  His diligence in his Imploy∣ment.
• * 1.6

  His Abilities.
• * 1.7

  His Religion.
• * 1.8

  His troubles proved happy to him.
• * 1.9

  His care of his Brothers Daughters.
• * 2.1

  His Duty to the King.
• * 2.2

  He was ill used by his Ene∣mies, and the Preachers.
• * 2.3

  He adviseth the King to settle with Scotland.
• * 2.4

  But is put from His Maje∣sty at his re∣turn to Scot∣land.
• * 2.5

  And goes to Arran.
• * 2.6

  Cromwell en∣ters Scotland.
• * 2.7

  Dunbar-Fight.
• * 2.8

  The King is better used in Scotland.
• * 2.9

  The Church-party divided.
• * 2.10

  An. 1652.
• * 2.11

  The Duke is suffered to wait on the King.
• * 2.12

  The King marches to England.
• * 3.1

  An. 1651.
• * 3.2

  Lambert is beat from Wa∣rington-bridge
• * 3.3

  The King en∣tered Worce∣ster.
• * 3.4

  The Duke ap∣prehenns and prepares for Death.
• * 3.5

  A Meditation on Death, and a Prayer.
• * 3.6

  The Dukes Regiment charges gal∣lantly at Wor∣cester-Fight.
• * 3.7

  His great Va∣lour.
• * 3.8

  An. 1652.
• * 3.9

  He is wounded
• * 3.10

  And taken.
• * 4.1

  He writes to his Lady.
• * 4.2

  His Death.
• * 4.3

  An. 1651.
• * 5.1

  An. 1652.
• * 6.1

  An. 1651.
• * 6.2

  The Conclusi∣on.