The life of the Lady VVarner of Parham in Suffolk, in religion call'd Sister Clare of Jesus written by a Catholic gentleman.

THE LIFE OF THE LADY WARNER. In RELIGION, Sister CLARE of IESVS. THE THIRD BOOK.

CHAP. I.

The Ceremony of their Profession at Grave∣ling.

HAving dispos'd and prepar'd them∣selves by Eight Days Retirement, for this last and solemn act of their Profession; they proceeded to the Ceremony: Which being out of Practice in England, since it's unhappy fall from the Roman Catholic Faith; I thought it would

not prove tedious, or ungrateful, to the curious and Devout Reader, to peruse that at least in English, he cannot see in England. That such, as have heard of a Religious Profession, and scarce know what it means, may hereby be inform'd, what it is.

Father Thomas VVorsley, being impower'd by Reverend Father Iohn Clarke, Provincial of the Society of Iesus in England, to receive Brother Clare's Profession; and having also receiv'd Com∣mand from the Bishop of St. Omers, to assist in his place, whilst Sister Clare of Iesus made her Vows: He upon the First Day of November, on which the Holy Catholic Church Celebrates the Feast of All-Saints, in the Year of Our Lord 1667, about Nine of the Clock in the Morning, said Mass in the Church of the English Monastry, of the Poor Clares of Graveling; which was throng'd with all sorts of Persons: The Grate of the Quire was left open, where Sister Clare kneel'd in her Ranck, amongst the rest of the Nuns: And a Praying place was set within the Communion Rails, on the Gospel side of the Altar, for Brother Clare to kneel upon, during the time of Mass. When Father VVorsley had taken the Communion himself, he turn'd about; holding in his hand the Sacred Body of our Savior; at which time Brother Clare ris' from the Praying place, and kneeling down before the Fa∣ther, in the middle of the lowest Altar-step, with a loud and distinct Voice, he recited his Vows in Latin, English'd as follows.

I Iohn Clare, make Profession, and promise to Almighty God; in Presence of his Virgin Mother, the whole Celestial Court, all here present, and to you Reverend Father Thomas VVorsley, in lieu of Reverend Father General of the Society of Iesus, and his Successors, holding the place of Christ; perpetual POVERTY, CHASTITY, and OBEDIENCE; and according to it, a particular care of Teaching Children, answerable to the form of living, contain'd in the Apostolical Letters, and Constitutions of the Society of Iesus. At Graveling, in the Church of the English Poor Clares, the First Day of November, 1667.

Which having ended, he Communicated from Father VVorsleys hands, and then return'd to the Praying place, finding an unspeakable comfort in his Soul. Sister Clare, who kneel'd in her usual place in the Quire; being observ'd by Re∣verend Mother Abbess, not so much as to move an Eye towards the Grate: When Brother Clare ris' to recite his Vows, was order'd by her to go close to the Grate, that she might the better see, and hear him perform that Ceremony; she went im∣mediately to the Grate, as Mother Abbess had order'd her, but kept the same custody of Eyes (as the Religious observ'd) which she had done before, not casting the least glance towards the Altar.

Mass being ended, Father VVorsley went from the Altar up to the Doxal (which is a large open Gallery, before the Quire Grate, made like a Balcony, with Rails and Ballisters towards the Altar) whether, as many of the Company, as it could contain, follow'd him, to see and hear Sister Clare of Iesus also make her Vows. As soon as Father Worsley was come to the Quire, on the right side of which Reverend Mother Abbess sat in an Arm'd Chair; Sister Clare with a smiling and compos'd Countenance kneel'd down be∣fore the Grate; having a Crucifix in her right hand, and a lighted Wax Candle in her left. The Fa∣ther asked her, VVhat she demanded? She Answer'd. Grace and Mercy of our Lord Iesus Christ; and of you Reverend Father; of you Reverend Mother Abbess; and of you my dearly beloved Sisters; I humbly beg, out of

my own free and deliberate VVill, in Honor of, and by the bitter Death and Passion of our Lord Iesus Christ, by the Merits of the most Glorious Virgin Mary, of our Holy Father St. Francis, our Holy Mother St. Clare, and of all the Holy Saints; that you will vouchsafe to receive me to Holy Profession: For if the whole VVorld were mine, I have chosen, and am ready to abandon it all, to be here one of your Poor Children, thô most un∣worthy. Then Father VVorsley desir'd her, to con∣sider well the Obligation she was about to take upon her, of perpetual Poverty, Chastity, Obedience, and Inclosure; to the observance of which, having once tyde her self by Vow, she was oblig'd during her whole Life, and could never be freed from this obligation; and therefore askt her, VVhether she still persever'd, in asking what she before demanded? To which she Answer'd, That she still demanded the same. Then he asked her, VVhether she thought her self to have sufficient strength of Body, to undertake that State? And whether she knew of any impediment, that might hinder her from undergoing so rigorous a course of Life, as she was about to undertake? She Answer'd him, That she knew of none; and did not doubt, but that God, who had call'd her to this State, would give her his Grace and Strength, to go through the rigors of it. Lastly, he askt her, How Old she was? She told him, She was One and Thirty Years of Age. Then the Father be∣gan the Veni Creator, or Hymn of the Holy Ghost, which the Quire went on withal, to the Versicle, which the Father Read aloud; Send forth thy Spirit, and they shall be Created; the Quire Answering: And thou shalt renew the face of the Earth. Then the

Father recited the following Prayer of the Holy Ghost.

O God, who didst instruct the Hearts of the Faithful, by the Illumination of the Holy Ghost; Grant that by the same Spirit we may have a right understanding in all things, and evermore rejoyce in his Holy consolation: Through our Lord Iesus Christ, &c.

Then the Father said, Pray for us O Mother of God. The Quire Answer'd, That we may be made partakers of the Promises of Christ.

O Lord God, we beseech thee, grant us thy Servants to enjoy perpetual health, of mind and body: And by the glorious Inter∣cession of the ever Blessed Virgin Mary, to be delivered from this present sorrow, and to en∣joy gladness everlasting. Through our Lord, &c. Amen.

Then the Father said, Pray for us Holy Father St. Francis; the Quire Answer'd, That we may be made worthy of the pomises of Christ,

O God, who dost increase thy Church, by the birth of the new Progeny of St. Francis; grant us by his imitation to despise all Earthly things, and to rejoyce in the parti∣cipation of thy Celestial gifts, through Christ our Lord, Amen.

Father, Pray for us O Blessed Mother St. Clare.

Quire, That we may be made worthy of the pomises of Christ.

O Lord, we beseech thee to make us, who Honor the Memory of the Holy Virgin St. Clare; by her Intercession partakers of Celestial joys, and Co-heirs of thy only be∣gotten Son; who lives and Reigns, with thee World without end. Amen.

Then the Father Blessed the Veil as follows.

Father,

May our help be in the Name of our Lord.

Quire,

VVho made Heaven and Earth.

Father,

O Lord hear my Prayer.

Quire,

And let my cry come unto thee.

Father,

The Lord be with you.

Quire,

And with your Spirit.

Let us Pray.

O Lord, we humbly beseech thee, that thy powerful blessing may descend upon this Veil; wherewith the head of thy Hand∣maid is to be cover'd, that it may become bles∣sed and holy to her, through Christ our Lord. Amen.

O Mnipotent, and Everlasting God; we humbly beseech thy Sacred Majesty, to Sanctifie with thy right hand this Veil, which thy Servant is about to put on her head; that thy Mercy assisting her, she may keep with an undefiled Body and Mind that Vow of Chastity, Mistically represented by this Veil, by which out of Love to thee, and thy Sacred Virgin Mother, she dedicates her self to thy Holy Service; that prepar'd hereby, she may joyn her self to thy Train of Virgins, and deserve to be led by thee to the Everlasting Nuptials of the Lamb; who livest and Reignest, World without end. Amen.

Then he blessed the Ring as follows.

LOrd Iesus Christ, the lover of true Chastity and perpetual Fidelity, we humbly beseech thy Immense Clemency, that thou wouldst bless this Ring, thy Servant is about to put on, and grant that she being Espous'd by this pledge, may persever thy Loyal Spouse, by so unspotted a Chastity, that she may deserve to be adorn'd with the gift of this Vertue, and enrich'd with it's Hundred-fold fruit, who livest and reignest, &c.

These Prayers being ended, the Quire recited, the Litanies of the Saints, Petitioning each of them to Pray for the Bride; and having ended the last Kirie Eleison, or Lord have Mercy upon us. The Father began the two first words of the Pater Noster, saying the rest to himself, till he came to the following words, And lead us not into Temp∣tation, which he said aloud, and the Quire An∣swer'd, but deliver us from Evil, Amen.

Then the Father said, Lord save thy Servant.

Quire,

VVho my God places her trust in thee

Father,

Send her help from thy Sanctuary.

Quire,

And from Sion defend her.

Father,

Be to her a Tower of strength.

Quire,

To defend her from the face of her Enemies.

Father,

Let not the Enemy prevail against her.

Quire,

Nor the Son of Iniquity be able to hurt her.

Father,

Lord hear my Prayer.

Quire,

And let my cry come unto thee.

Father,

The Lord be with you.

Quire,

And with your Spirit.

Then the Father said the following Prayers.

LEt our humble Petitions O Lord appear in thy presence, and vouchsafe to bless thy Servant, to whom in thy Holy Name we give the Veil of Religion; and by the Intercession of the most blessed, and most glorious Virgin Mary, of the Blessed Apostles St. Peter and St. Paul, St. Francis, St. Clare, and all the other Saints, grant her a perfect Conversion from the World; and so ferverous an observance of what she has undertaken; that in all her Tri∣bulations, Streights and Temptations, being encourag'd by thy Divine Consolation; and by true Humility and Obedience, being founded in fraternal Charity; she may justly, piously and Chastly perform, what by thy assistance she does this Day promise; and thereby deserve to enjoy with thee Everlasting Life. Who with the Father and Holy Ghost, livest and reignest, God World without end, Amen.

O Lord Iesus Christ, who art the way, out of which none can come to the Father; we beseech thy most benign Clemency, that thou wouldst lead this thy Servant, whom thou hast

drawn from Terrene and carnal desires, into the secure way of regular Discipline; and since thou vouchsafest to call Sinners to thee, saying, Come unto me all ye, that labor, and I will refresh you; grant that the Voice of this your Invitation, may have so much Power over her, as that laying down the bur∣den of her Sins, she may deserve to taste how great, and good you are; and by this your Divine refection, be inabl'd to sustain your Chastisements for them: And as thou hast vouchsaft to attest, saying, I know my Sheep, and my Sheep know me; acknowledge her for thine, and grant that she may so know thee, and follow thee, and only thee; that she may never give Ear to, or obey anothers Voice; who hast promis'd, that whosoever obeys and serves thee here, shall follow thee hereafter; who livest and reignest, &c.

Then the Father bid the Bride repeate thrice the following words, out of the 118 Psalm. Re∣ceive me according to thy promises, and I shall live, and do not disappoint me of my expectation; which she having done with a loud and distinct Voice, and the Abbess having as often Answer'd, My dearest Daughter, let it be done unto you, according to your words; the Quire Answer'd, Amen. Then the Bride kneel'd down before the Abbess, and joyning her hands together, plac't them betwixt the Abbesses,

and both their hands thus joyn'd, were tyed together with such a Stole, as the Priest wears about his Neck at Mass; and is a Repre∣sentation of those Cords, wherewith our Savior, out of Love to us, permitted himself to be bound in his Passion; and therefore, the Bride mov'd with a Memory of this his Love, permits her hands to be thus bound, to represent those In∣terior bands, by which she ties her self whilst she makes her Sacred Vows; and her hands are also bound to Mother Abbesses, as a mark of that tye of Obedience to her Will, which she undertook; and then with a loud and distinct Voice she made her Profession, as follows.

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.

I Sister Clare of Iesus, do Vow unto Almighty God, the most Glorious Virgin Mary, Our Holy Father St. Francis, Our Holy Mo∣ther St. Clare, unto all the Holy Saints, and to you Reverend Mo∣ther Abbess, and all your Succes∣sors, that shall hold your Place, to observe, all the Day's of my Life, the Rule and Form of liv∣ing

of the Poor Sisters of St. Clare, giv'n her by St. Francis, and Con∣firm'd by Our Holy Father Pope Innocent the IV. I Vow to live in OBEDIENCE, without PRO∣PRIETY in any thing, in CHA∣STITY also, and not to go out of INCLOSURE during my whole Life, according to the Constitu∣tions of the same Rule.

Then the Abbess said, And I on the part of God, according to his Inviolable Decree, do promise you Eter∣nal Life; if you observe, what you have Vow'd. To which the Quire Answer'd, Amen. Then the Abbess saluted the Bride, and taking off her White Veil, put on a Black one; saying, Take Daughter this Sacred Veil, and wear it till you come before the Tribunal of the Eternal Iudge, to whom all Knees, both in Heaven and Earth, and Hell are bent; remember you have for ever taken leave of the World, and given, and united your self wholy to Iesus Christ, as to your beloved Spouse; may he defend and protect you from all Evils, and receive you at length, into Eternal Life. Amen.

Then the Bride, with a loud Voice, recited the words of St. Agnes, He has put a Mark and Veil ever my Face, that I may admit no other Lover but himself.

Then the Abbess put on the Brides head a Crown, saying, Take my dear Sister this Temporal Crown, as a certain pledge of that Eternal one, which your Divine Spouse has prepar'd for you, if you be faith∣ful to him. After this, the Abbess also put a Ring on her Finger, saying, at the same time, My be∣loved Daughter, take this Ring, as a Mark of that love and fidelity, which you ought inviolably to keep to your faithful Spouse Iesus Christ, as long as you love. To which the Bride Answer'd, with a high Voice, My Lord Iesus Christ has engag'd me to him with his Ring, and adorn'd me as his Spouse, with a Crown. Then the Abbess put into her hand a Crucifix, and said, Receive here, and embrace your Spouse; may he receive, bless, and preserve both you and us, for ever, Amen. After she had receiv'd the Crucifix, the Father recited the following Pray∣ers.

LOrd Iesus Christ, who by the immense goodness of thy Purity, hast vouchsafed to Espouse our Souls with an indissoluble band of Love, grant we beseech thee, that this thy Servant being firmly engag'd by thy Ring of Faith, may become so constant, faithful, and devout a Spouse in thy service, as that she may firmly persever in it to the end; who livest and reignest, &c.

O God who by thy love hast inflam'd this thy Servant, and drawn her from the Va∣nity of the World, to the reward of so high a Calling; vouchsafe so to purifie her heart with thy presence, and the infusion of thy Divine Grace, that she may persever in it; that being strengthen'd by thy assistance, she may be able to perform, what by thy Divine inspirations she has pro∣mis'd, and by the execution hereof, happily par∣take of the Eternal reward, thou hast promis'd those that persever in thy service; through Christ our Lord, Amen.

These Prayers being ended, the Quire began to Sing the following, Responsal, The Kingdom of this VVorld, and all it's Ornaments, I have contemn'd for the Love of my Lord Iesus Christ: Which having ended, they began the Hymn, Te Deum Laudamus; and whilst they were Singing it, the Bride went round the Quire, and receiv'd the Embraces and Congratulations of all the Religious; then retur∣ning to her place, she and the rest of the Religious kneeling in their order, the Father recited that Verse of the 67 Psalm, Confirm O God, what thou hast wrought in us; and then made a very moving Sermon, upon the following Text, out of the 9th. Psalm, Sperent in te Domine, qui noverunt no∣men tuum: Let them hope in thee, O Lord, who know thy Name. In this Exhortation he First,

lay'd open the nature of this Action or Cere∣mony, they had perform'd; by evidencing, that a greater Act of hope could not be express'd, then by a Voluntary Contempt of the present, but transitory Comforts of this World; in expecta∣tion of those solid and inexplicable joys, whose durance was to be Eternal in the next. Believe me (said he) the vain hopes of the Earth are too poor and inconsiderable for so generous hearts, as yours are; the Kingdom of Heaven, as you have made out to Day, is only worthy of them.

Secondly, He shew'd there could be no way more Compendious, to Honor and Celebrate this great Feast of All-Saints, then by striving to make themselves conformable to those Great O∣riginals; which in this present conjuncture they had done, by so generously undervaluing all the transitory goods of this Life; and so might just∣ly hope to arrive at that pitch of Sanctity, this Contempt of the World had rais'd the Saints un∣to; and also to share with them the Crown of Glory, in the World to come.

Thirdly, Addressing himself to the Bride; he assur'd her, she had strictly follow'd the directi∣on of St. Austin, in Solemnising this Feast, by so closely following the Example of Saints; nay, even the hardest example, which is that of Mar∣tyrs: Whereby she had made a better, and a more moving Exhortation, by her Example, then he was able to make by his words; she having verified those of this great Doctor, Ser. 47. de Sactis. Ab ipsis, Martyrum Festivitatum gaudia

celebrantur; qui ipsorum Martyrum exempla sequuntur; Solemnitates enim Martyrum, Exhortationes sunt Mar∣tyriorum, ut imitari non pigeat, quod celebrare delectat. The joys of the Festivals of Saints, are best Celebrated by those, who follow their Examples; for the Solemnities of Martyrs, are so many Exhortatations to Martyrdome; that it may not be tedious to Practice, what is delight∣ful to Celebrate. Proving that the Bride had cou∣ragiously enter'd upon the hardest of Martyr∣doms; by taking upon her so long and terrify∣ing a one, as was that dying Life, or living Death, she had so joyfully embrac'd for the love of God.

CHAP. II.

What Effects this Ceremony wrought upon her self, and those that were present at it. The great Victory she had obtain'd over her passions, manifested by her unconcernedness in this, and two other very moving occasions.

Having ended the Ceremony of her Profes∣sion, I hope the taking notice of some moving Circumstances in it, and of the effects it wrought, both upon the Bride, and those that were present; will prove as grateful to the Reader, as I believe the foregoing Relation has been.

The Ceremony was so moving, as that there was scarce a Religious or Secular Person present, (who were as many as the Doxal could hold) that was able to refrain from Tears; Nay, the Governor himself, the Marquiss of Flavecoeur, a Person not at all subject to this passion; de∣clar'd that he could not refrain from weeping, at the sight of it, no more then the rest; and that he had never felt such a tenderness of heart in all his Life. She her self, who was the Actor, was the only person that seem'd unmov'd in this action, appearing all the while with a chearful, yet so recollected a Countenance, as if she had been totally absorpt in God, whose Sacrifice she fell that Day. Her little ones stood by her, all the time she perform'd the Ceremony; which was enough to have mov'd any heart but hers. For they being of an Age, not sensible of their loss, seem'd as little concern'd as their Mo∣ther; and were very much pleas'd at what they understood not; being very busie in as∣sisting at the Ceremony: The one put on her Veil, the other her Crown; at which Sister Clare smiling, told her, in a low Voice, she wore that, for her Fathers sake.

The Solemnity being over, one askt her how it was possible, that beholding the great Com∣motion, and Tears of so many about her; she could remain so chearful and unconcern'd, as she seem'd to be during the whole Ceremony? She Answer'd with a Spirit, as full of Ingenuity as Humility, That this constancy and chearfulness took their

rise from no other source, than the Divine Goodness; which during the whole Ceremony had fil'd her heart with so great an Interior peace and comfort, as she had never felt before in all her Life. Which was a due reward for that generous oblation, she had that Day made of her self to Almighty God. Had the Person who askt her this Question, propos'd the same to any one of the Religious, they would have given an An∣swer quite different from hers, which her Humility would not permit her to give. The Religious had seen with how much Industry, even from her first entrance into Religion, she had made it her chief endeavour to suppress and overcome, the Sallies and Efforts of Nature, and had beheld her com∣portment in several other occasions, and seen with how great a Courage, she had behav'd he self in other tryals, which God thought fit to send her during her Noviship, to dispose her to a due per∣formance of this great act of Love; and therefore, they were not so surpriz'd, as those were who had only seen that one action of hers, they having been Eye Witnesses of divers eviden∣ces she had given, of her perfect and intire re∣signation to Gods Holy Will, even in the great∣est afflictions, and most sensible tryals, that could have happen'd to her. Now the Reader that may the better perceive how she carry'd her self in them, I will here set down a Relation of her behaviour and perfect Conformity to Gods Will, at the Death of two of her dearest friends.

The first tryal of her Conformity was given her by the Death of Reverend Mother Luisa Taylor,

Abbess of the Monastry. The History of whose Life deserves a Volum, being a person of an ab∣solute and consummated Vertue. This Holy Abbess being suddenly seiz'd, with violent sym∣toms of Death; was piously expecting her last happy moment, and all the Religious were sent for, and came without the least delay, except Sister Clare; who being advertis'd by one of the Religious, that came in great hast to her Cell, that Reverend Mother Abbess was a dying, and that if she did not come quickly, she would never see her alive: Sister Clare joyning her hands, without the least surprize, made a bow to her, ex∣pressing thereby her gratitude for the Message she brought her (it being their Custom never to speak in their Cells) and without making any such hast, as might occasion the omission even of the least, or most inconsiderable Ceremony of Religion; she first put on her great Veil, then kist the ground, and afterwards with a modest and graceful gate, follow'd the Religious to the Infir∣mary, where Mother Abbess lay a dying; as if this sad News had not at all come unexpected, or given her the least affliction. She came into the Chamber, where her dear Friend, and tender Mother lay ready to expire, and where she found all the Religious bath'd in Tears, like so many tender hearted Children, bemoaning the loss of their dying Mother; yet she who was like to sustain as great a loss as any (having had a great dependance upon her, and receiv'd great com∣fort from her Counsels) beheld her ready to

leave her, without shedding a Tear, whilst all the rest seem'd to be in a very great affliction, and general consternation; and so concern'd, as if all their happiness had depended on this Abbesses Life. Sister Clare knew her great Vertues and worth; and had no less respect and affection for her, than they, which the many Obligations she had receiv'd from her, justly deserv'd; yet for all this she shewed not the least outward sign of grief. And when one of the Religious exprest hers, by her many Tears for Reverend Mother Abbesses Death; she efficaciously stopt them by the following words, VVeep not so much, Dear Sister, 'tis the VVill of God, you love so well. Her bearing this cross with so admirable a Conformity, mov'd Almighty God to reward her, by sending another equally sensible; and at the same time, to give her his Divine Grace to bear it with no less constancy. It was the Death of her Mistress of Novices, Sister Mary Bonaventure Carleton; who thô she had had a long experience in training up the No∣vices in perfection; yet, us'd to say, She learnt more from this, than ever she had taught the rest; find∣ing her perfect, even before she enter'd into the way of perfection, which made her have a very great esteem of her, confidence in her, and affection for her; looking upon her as sent from Heaven, rather to perfect her, than be perfected by her. Sister Clare being of a grateful nature, was no ways backward in her returns; and looking upon her as the best of friends, and plac'd her confidence in her as in a Mother: But God, by her surprizing Death, almost as soon

snatcht away this comfort, as he had given it; which cross, Sister Clare supported with the like courage, as she did the former, even without the loss of a Tear. Insomuch, that being ask'd by a Person of Quality (Madam Flavecoeur the Gover∣nors Lady of Graveling) If she were not very much concern'd for the Death of her Mistress? She Answer'd, Yes Madam, I have a great feeling of it, and indeed more than I can well express. These words, and the man∣ner of delivering them, struck the Lady with ad∣miration, to see such a temper, as did not shed a Tear, when she had thus renewed the sorrowful thoughts of the loss of her Mistress; and mov'd her to urge the matter a little farther, and ask her, How it was possible, she could forbear weeping, at the Remembrance of the loss, of such a friend? The good Novice (for then she was not Profest) told her, after her sweet and affable way; Madam, nothing but God deserves our Tears, who is so good, as to hinder me from paying them, where they are not due. Such as knew not of how excellent and sweet a disposition Sister Clare was, might perhaps think so great an insensibility, as appear'd in such mo∣ving circumstances as I have related, effects of an ill, hard, and ungrateful nature; which was insensible of kindness, and knew not either what friendship was, how to value it, what gratitude it requires, or how much a Spiritual friendship exceeds that of Nature, ordinarily grounded up∣on Sympathy, Natural inclination or Interest; and therefore perhaps might not much wonder at her comportment in the occasions I have related.

But those who by Reading her Life, are made better acquainted with her humor, and have seen how solidly she grounded her friendship; how warily she engag'd her affection, and with what constancy and tenderness, upon all occasions she exprest it, to those she had made choice of for her Friends; especially, two such choice Friends as these; whose great Vertue mov'd her to a high esteem of them, their Station to a confidence in them, and their extraordinary Zeal for her Per∣fection, to a grateful affection for them; cannot but wonder to see her in so short a time, to have gain'd so strange a command over her pas∣sions, as not to shed a Tear at their Death, which is the more to be admir'd in her tender Sex; especially, since, as her Answer to the Governors Lady declares, she so sensibly felt this Tryal. But God by her faithful co-operation with his Grace, had so strengthen'd her to overcome these feelings of Nature, as not to give the least sign or expression of sorrow; whereby, she manifest∣ed, that thô she lov'd them well, yet she lov'd God better; whom also she lov'd in such a manner, as to desire rather, that he should please himself than her; nay, that even he should please him∣self in her affliction. Which shew'd, not only her sincere love to God, but also her dis-interessed love to her friends, prefering their happiness be∣fore her own; and therefore since their Death was a gain to them, she could not regret her own loss by it, nor permit her sorrow, to overcome the joy she ought to have, in thinking they were

happy. The will of God was what she endeavor'd most industriously to find out; and joyfully em∣brac'd in whatsoever terrifying manner it appear'd to her; as her words to that Pious Religious, who was lamenting the Abbesses Death declares. And therefore, what tryal soever of her Love, God thought fit to send her, by depriving her of those friends she lov'd best; she was re∣solv'd this tryal should not deprive her of the chief object of her Love, himself; who was the best of friends: And therefore was resolv'd to ex∣press her love in the best manner she was able, by preferring his Will and Pleasure, before her own in all things. Whereby she so surmounted all these sensible tryals, as to seem even insensible of them: And also dispos'd her self for the making her Profession, and for the loss of two such friends, with such a constancy and unconcernedness, as I have declar'd: And was also inabl'd quite to over∣come the tenderness of an affectionate Mother towards her Children; as in the following Chapter I shall relate.

CHAP. III.

Her exact compliance with Mother Abbesses Orders, in taking care of her Children, in which she exprest more of a careful Mistress, than a tender Mother; and hereby manifested, that Pure Obedience, the inclination of Grace; and not affection to her Children, the inclina∣tion of Nature; mov'd her to accept this employment.

AFter she had made her Profession, as above declar'd; the first thing she set upon, was strictly to perform, what she had so lately promis'd. Obedience was her chief care, and thô nothing was more contrary to her inclina∣tion, than to look after her Children; yet see∣ing this charge was impos'd upon her, by her Superior, she chearfully undertook it. She knew by experience, what advantages, order and method always brought with it; and therefore was sollicitous, that every moment should be rightly spent by her Children. For this end, she made them an exact Distribution, or Jour∣nal, for every hour of the Day, accommodated to their Age and Years. She spar'd no labor to Cultivate these tender Plants, and even from their

Infancy, to prepare them for the Garden of Re∣ligion, if God should make them so happy, as to call them to that blessed State. To set down the whole Distribution of time she had made for them, would I fear seem too tedious; yet I can∣not but let the Reader see some part of it, and thereby give him a knowledge of her own Devo∣tions, she without doubt practising her self, what she endeavor'd to instil into them. She order'd them that the first thing they did as soon as they awak'd, should be to make the Sign of the Cross, adding the following words, Blessed be the Holy and undivided Trinity, now and for ever. Amen. And having done this, she bids them tell sweet Jesus, that they would suffer the Mortification of rising in the cold, and of leaving the comfort of their warm bed, for his sake, who left Heaven for theirs. Then, as soon as they were up, she Counsels them to kiss the ground, in Memory of that dust, out of which they came, and to which they were to re∣turn; and to make an Act of Adoration, and Thanksgiving to the Divine Majesty, for having Created them of nothing, capable of lov∣ing, serving and enjoying him for all Eternity; and also for having preserv'd them the Night past from all dangers. Then that they should make an Oblation of themselves to his Infinite good∣ness. Afterwards to say an Ave Mary to beg our Ladies blessing upon them for that Day; whom they were to love and confide in, as in a Mother; having recourse to her in all their necessities as such, and dayly beg her Intercession, by saying

their Beads together, at the time she had ap∣pointed. Then she order'd them to say a Gloria Patri, &c. in thanksgiving to God, for the glory given to their good Angels, and for the honor given to themselves, by bestowing upon them such Beau∣tiful and Powerful Protectors; whose Protection that Day, they were humbly to beg; and then to recommend themselves to their particular Pa∣trons and Saints of their Name, and Pray for their friends; especially; for their Grand-fathers and Uncles Conversion.

This done, she order'd them before they came to School to her, to go to their Closset, and there offer up that, and all the other actions of that Day, with a pure intention (for want of which many even of our best actions were frequently lost, and the Merit also of our other actions, which are indifferent, and of no Merit without such an intention) that as soon as they came thither they should strive which of them should first kiss sweet Jesus's Feet in their Crucifix, and remem∣ber they had chosen St. Mary Magdalen for one of their Patronesses, whose place was at the foot of the Cross, when Christ dy'd upon it; and wish to Love him as she did, saying a Pater and Ave, and telling our dear Savior they were going to School to please him, and that all their actions that Day shall be for no other end.

When they came to School, to confirm them in the practice of that profitable Devotion to their good Angel, she had recommended to them, she gave them an example of it her self; and took out

of her breast a little Paper Picture of her good Angel, she always carry'd about her, and placeing it before her, and them (to put them in mind of their good Angels who were present, thô invisible) she recommended her self and Children to them. To these she added, also other profitable Documents, and necessary Instructions; as of submission, of obedience, but most particularly of that of Humility; a Virtue very necessary to be acquir'd in young Years, where Nature still leads to the contrary. For this end, she would have them always, call their Maid Sister, in which she show'd no little sign of Humility in her self, by commanding them to give the same Title to their Servant, they gave to her self: And thô nothing could be more taking, than the sweet and submissive humor or these Children towards her; yet she forc'd the efforts of Nature, always to give place to those of Grace; as may be gather'd from the following passage.

The Governours Lady, being one Day within the Inclosure amongst the Religious, desir'd to see Sister Clare, and her Children together; upon this, she was order'd to come, and as she enter'd the Room, the Lady wisper'd one of them in the Ear, from whom I had the Re∣lation, saying, I see, 'tis not a poor and mean Habit, that can hide true Mobility and VVorth; and beholding her very attentively, she was so struck, that words were too scant to express the sentiments of her mind; till some Tears had made way for them,

and then recovering her self, in a passionate and abrupt manner, she said; Here needs a Powerful Hand, to sustain this great work; and being still in a kind of confusion, she could not proceed far∣ther, upon that subject, but looking stedfastly upon the Children (who all this time, by mo∣ving Language Caress'd their Mother, and hung about her Neck) she broke out again into this expression. O Madam, how is it possible, to leave such Children? This is a touch of God, that strangely surprizes me. Another Person of Quality that ac∣company'd the Governors Lady, seeing their Mother express so little kindness and tender∣ness towards them, endeavor'd to Caress them, and show as much fondness towards them as she was able. Telling them, They did mistake their Mother, and that she her self was their Mother, and not Sister Clare; upon which the Children ran from her to their Mother, hanging about her, and speaking to her in such moving Language, as melted the Ladys heart; and mov'd her with Tears, modestly to inveigh against the leaving such little Angels; declaring, That her change of Condition, was an act above her Sex; nay, even above Flesh and Blood, and was in her opinion, rather to be admir'd then imitated. This Rhetoric of both these Ladies had no in∣fluence upon Sister Clare; she seem'd as if their words had not concern'd her, or as if she had not heard them; and by this her humble and modest comportment, much amaz'd the standers by; who ad∣mir'd to see God Almighties Grace so strangely Tri∣umphing over the bent, and inclination, or Nature.

CHAP. IV.

Her Zeal for the Conversion of her Relations to the Catholic Faith, her Prayer for them, and Ferverous Letters to her Father, expres∣sing her passionate Love towards him, by her fervent Zeal for his Conversion, not∣withstanding his great severity, and unkind∣nesses towards her.

BUt this Heroical abnegation, of whatsoever the tenderness of Nature was able to suggest, thô very extraordinary, as we have seen in the foregoing Chapter, did no ways hinder that rest∣less Zeal, she always had for the Conversion of her friends. Her own words, sufficiently prove that her Charity had no other tendency; as the following Prayer she made for her nighest Relations will evidence: Which I find in her own hand amongst the rest of her Papers.

O Most great God of Mercy, look with the Eyes of compassion upon my near Rela∣tions, and Friends, who are yet detain'd in Schism and Heresie. And remember I beseech you, that you did not bring them out of their Eternal Nothing, and Stamp upon their Souls

your own Sacred Image, in order to destroy, and abandon those perfect products of your powerful hand, having been pleas'd to send your only Son, to pay the ransome for them, as well as for my unworthy self, with the price of your most precious Blood. Dart therefore, O most merciful God, some beams of your light into their dark, and deceived understandings: Have mercy upon them, and let the light of your Countenance shine upon them, that they may see the Truth of your Sacred Mysteries: Give them Grace to submit their Necks to the sweet and easie Yoke of your Precepts, propos'd, and deliver'd by your Holy Church. O my dear Redeemer, what have I done for you? Or what have I deserv'd at your hands, that I should be called to your saving Faith, and be made a member of your Holy Church. Impart I beseech you, the like favor, by your bitter Death and Passion, to those your misled, and unbelieving Creatures my Friends and Relations; that together with my self they may faithfully acknowledge, adore, and love you, their glori∣ous Creator and Redeemer, here in this World, and in the World to come, praise and magnifie your goodness, and joyfully Celebrate your Mer∣cies with Canticles of Eternal Gratitude, and Thanksgiving. Amen.

If this Zeal was so particular for her friends, you may imagine how active it was for the con∣version of her Father; whom she so passionately lov'd, that no want of Affection in him, was ever able to lessen it: Who, thô he Wrote se∣veral Letters to her; yet he never gave her the Title of Child, or Subscrib'd himself, her Father. But oftentimes in his Letters, he upbraids her, for committing an unheard of ingratitude, in tak∣ing such a course as this was, without asking his advice or consent: The news of which (as he said in one) seem'd to him incredible, because he never judg'd, that her Husband's or her Af∣fections to one another, had been so moderate (by any thing he had ever heard or seen,) as that they could be perswaded upon pretence of Christianity, to embrace such a strange and hor∣rid undertaking, by breaking the Solemn Vow of Matrimony. That hereby, she seem'd to have suckt the Milk of a Tygress, rather than of a Woman; and to have lost all good Nature, and even Humanity it self. He added, that it was an injury done to Heaven, to call such follies, and Insinuations as these Inspirations, and godly motions; assuring her upon his Faith, that all the Catholics he had spoken with, condemned this rash and inconsiderate Action of theirs; and therefore conjur'd her, either to return to England, that he might have the comfort of visit∣ing them there; or to live together some where in France, or Flanders; whether he would come to see them: Requiring her to obey this his advice,

as the Counsel of a Father: Which if she did not, he would never give her his blessing; and ends his Letter by a bare subscription of his Name. These severe checks from a Father, she lov'd so tenderly, must needs have wrought upon her, had not the Grace of Almighty God in a particular manner assisted her, so piously to bear them; and that she did so, is evident, from the Dutiful Answer she return'd him, to his Letter couch't in so hard and severe terms.

SIR,

THe great condescention of your Goodness to me, I did not receive till almost two Months after it's date, else I had not deferred my acknowledgment of it a Minute, and was not all that time without great perplexity, whether I might (without an unpardonable presumption) attempt to beg your blessing; since my Actions have unhappily appear'd to you so Crimi∣nal, as rather to deserve the contrary. Wherefore I most humbly beg you upon my Knees, to give me leave to offer unto you, the sole Mo∣tives of our so much wonder'd at resolutions. You know Sir, that the State of Life I am now in, is but what God Almighty has been pleas'd to grant me, after a long and earnest pursuit of it; and which if it had pleas'd him to move

you to grant me sooner, as he was pleas'd to move my dear Sir John Warner, not only to consent to, but even to propose, might have prevented the unhappy disturbance, I have since given you. Those that consider his Vertue, and that our Affections were wholy grounded on that, will not wonder we should deprive our selves of those Temporal enjoyments, we had here, to make one another a present of Eternal ones; and indeed Sir, I presume to say, I believe you have that opinion of my kind∣ness to him, (thô you were never pleas'd to be∣lieve I had those due Respects and Affections I ought for you) which might make you miti∣gate that severe Censure you are pleas'd to make of my Actions towards you. Certainly Sir, less than a particular and strong Impres∣sion, that the World was not safe for me, had not been sufficient to have made me part with such an Husband; if you will give me leave to say nothing of your self. But I must now acknowledge Sir, that every word of this with∣out your particular goodness, may be offensive: Therefore, I do not Write without extraordi∣nary pain. As to the Infinite blessing of a Fathers presence, that you were pleas'd to men∣tion; 'twas too great to be offer'd, till we were out of the Power of enjoying it; and if you did not name it for a Torment to me, you

would find these Countries (considering the nearness of the Spaw) very convenient for you; here being such entertainments, and so good Conversations, which, if I were not here might perhaps be an invitation to you. Oh Sir, I wish since God has thus dispos'd of me by his infinite mercy, that we had a Monastry near you in Wales; for if I am to have any hap∣piness in this World, I wish it might be by your procurement: For then my heart would be at rest, that you had forgiven me; but a∣bove all, that by so acceptable a work as this, you had gain'd those blessings of Almighty God, which in my Prayers I shall never cease to ask; knowing you would then find that true content, which the World has not yet been able to give you. Which that you may, I beseech him of his mercy to move you to pardon, whatever ap∣pears to you, as Criminal in me; since what contradicts not the Duty I owe my Hea∣venly Father, I shall ever confess due to you. With all Humility upon my Knees, I beg your blessing, for my self and Children,

Your most passionate and af∣fectionate Poor Child, CLARE of JESUS.

To which Letter she adds this Post-Script.

Sir, I thought fit to send you these, but I beseech you forget them, as soon, you have read them, and forgive me, who am the cause of so much trouble to you.

Nor did her restless Zeal for her Father's Con∣version terminate here, but she still us'd new Methods of endeavouring it. And receiving no Answer to her last Letter, she procur'd a Catho∣lic Gentleman (who was extreamly well verst in Controversie, and a Neighbor to Sir Thomas Hanmer) to take the occasion of giving him a Visit, and Discoursing with him, concerning Catholic Religion; and withal, desir'd him to carry this second Letter, no less passionate then the former, that by his Conversation, he might come to a better knowledge of the truth of the Roman Catholic Religion.

SIR,

MY Obligations, and ardent affection for you, will not suffer me to be long silent, nor to fear, or excuse my often troubling you; and I do now do it, in hopes that the Con∣versation, and acquaintance of this Gentleman (who is the bearer) will be so welcome to you; that you will esteem his Company a divertis∣ment

At least Sir, grant me this only re∣quest and satisfaction, to hear you have dis∣coursed with him. I do really assure my self that if you were convinced of the necessity, and had weighed the many reasons why you ought to be other than what you are; your heart is too great and Noble, to be kept back by any Worldly consideration. St. Austin had surely something extraordinary in his Soul, before it me with it's right Object; and give me leave to say Sir, so have you; and I hope you may live to teach many to Love as he did; if once all hindrances were taken away betwixt you and that ravishing goodness of God. What is it we seek after, but full contentment of mind? And who can give that, but the plenitude of all goodness? In him there is nothing but love and joy, his nature is to make all things happy in him, and whoever has once experienced, the de∣lights he gives proper for the Soul, will immediately abhor those of Sense, and confess them to be real pains. Sir, what can you leave, or suffer, but he can fortifie you to undergo; and change into comfort, what by nature you most of all fear? And infallibly his goodness will do so, if you will only hear and Discourse impartially: Which on my Knees I humbly beg for Christ's sake, in remembrance of all he suffer'd for you. Sir, do not deny me; behold me at your Feet

embracing them, with the affection of my whole heart, and be no longer cruel to your self, who are so dear to me; since all the joys in this World can be nothing to me, without your being happy. Pardon me this importunity: I could Write, I confess, and never give over, but for fear of troubling you, being truly, thô your un∣worthy, yet

Your most passionate and af∣fectionate poor Child, CLARE of JESUS.

One would have thought, that these lines so full of respect and affection, might have deserv'd an Answer, if the former had not; and have con∣vinced him, that the want of affection was not the cause of her pious undertaking, which he taxt her with; but that this happy change of hers, had purified that love, which she before had for him; in giving her so great a concern, as she ex∣presses in this, for his Conversion; on which de∣pended his Eternal happiness. And thô neither this, nor those dayly Prayers and Tears she of∣fer'd for him, could gain the least upon him; yet still she continu'd her sollicitations to Heaven in his behalf, and that her Prayers might be the more efficacious, she endeavour'd the more earnestly to obtain a more perfect and hap∣py Union with God.

CHAP. V.

Her generous Resolution of tending to Perfecti∣on. The Testimony of her Ghostly Father and others, how diligently she puts these her Resolutions in Practice.

IT will not perchance, here be amiss, to give a short Idaea of that consummate perfection, she at length arriv'd too, which cannot be bet∣ter perform'd, then by seting down those gener∣ous Resolutions, I find in her own hand a∣mongst the rest of her Papers.

O Most Sacred and undivided Trinity, Three Persons, and one Essence, cast a glance of your All-seeing Eye, upon my un∣worthy, wretched and wounded Soul, groaning under the burthen of her own Abyss of misery; trembling at the consideration of your secret judgments; confounded at the memory of her former disloyalties, and ingratitude, all cover'd with shame, and pieret with sorrow: Humbly prostrating her self before the Throne of your dreadful Majesty; and tendering her Petition to your infinite Mercy. You have been pleas'd

O benign Lover of all Souls, to expect her hitherto most patiently. You have most effica∣ciously terrifyed her with your threats; you have most earnestly invited her, and powerfully drawn her with your promises; you have given her a strong confidence in your goodness, and mercy. You have induced her to an absolute expiation of her Crimes, and a perfect reconciliation by a sincere Contrition, intire Sacramental Confession, and prompt satisfaction; you have given her strong resolutions of an intire Reformation. This is the change of your right-hand, and the only effect of your goodness, to whom be as∣cribed all honor and praise. And now my power∣ful Creator, my unfetter'd Soul, aspires to a high flight, she covets a nearer conjunction with your infinite perfections, and excellencies, the only Object of her Love, and repose of her desires. O! who will give her the wings of a Dove, that she may Soar up to her beloved, and spend the rest of this Pilgrimage, in the sweet Contemplation of Heavenly Mysteries, by a perpetual retirement, and divorce from those many turbulent distractions, she has been in∣cumber'd withal; and from all sollicitude and care of any thing below. Infuse therefore, O Divine attractor of Souls, your efficacious Grace; strengthen her desires, and confirm her resolu∣tions in so high an interprize; for the Reliques

of sin have yet an overswaying Power, over her feeble Will, her cruel Enemies lye in wait to obstruct her free passage into this happy State of repose. The sensual propensions of Flesh and Blood, are in a continual conflict to subdue reason, and the enticing allurements of World∣ly objects in her imagination, endeavour to blind the interior Eyes of her Soul; and divert her from beholding the beauty of Vertue, from considering her own misery and ingratitude, and from contemplating your infinite beauty, and love towards her. Let therefore, your Powerful strength break afunder, all these strong bonds of Iniquity, and let the same force that has so happily dispossest Satan, of the Empire he had in her, re-invest you in your just inheri∣tance and habitation. Embelish her with all solid Vertues and Perfections; make her a Paradise of delights, by leting her behold you in all things; and then re-assume her to your self, who are her Creator, Preserver, and Re∣deemer. Amen.

Having gather'd out of her own Memoires, how far she was advanced in all the ways of an interior Life, and to what a pitch of the Union of God, she was arriv'd; it follows that we take notice of those steps by which she mounted up to this so eminent degree of Perfection: Which her Ghostly Father, and several of the Religious

take notice of in the Characters, they by request gave of her since her Death, from her first entrance into a Religious State of Life: Viz. that she had so deep an apprehension of her own No∣thingness, that of all Vices she seem'd to fear, that of vain-glory the least. All the extraordi∣nary favors she receiv'd from Heaven, serv'd on∣ly to increase the bad Opinion she had conceiv'd of her self. From this Humility, and profound acknowledgment of her own unworthiness, sprung as from their source all those other Vertues so singular in her. As to her Recollection, besides what I have already said of this subject, she trod the paths of the most Illustrious Saints, always walking in the sight of God; which holy exer∣cise became so habitual to her, that she once ingeniously acknowleged, That since her entrance a∣mongst the Poor Clares, she had but twice lost the Divine Presence, and that for about the space of an Ave Maria, each time, being taken up with too great sollicitude for her Children. No wonder then, she had as many unquestionable Witnesses of a Recollected Spirit, as there were persons who dayly convers'd with her. Her looks, as they said, and that Hea∣venly Air which appear'd in her Countenance, was sufficient to strike Reverence and Devotion into the most wandring and dissipated imaginati∣on. There was no need of studying her humor, or observing her times; her temper was always e∣qual, as was her mind; those Graces and Ex∣cellencies of an even and pleasant humor, never fail'd her; so that no accident, thô never so sur∣prizing

prizing and strange, could make the least visible impression upon her: Her Vertue was not of a faint or fading Nature, like that of some tender Constitutions, which changeth with every blast, but strong and permanent; not to be alter'd by any vicissitudes, or various events of this Life: The change of weather, the infirmity of sickness, the Death of friends, had no influence upon her constancy; this golden vein of indifferency that ran through the whole body of her actions, made her Superior to all events, that are wont to move, and work upon others; nothing but what was in God, from God, and for God, was any part of her care; in a word, not to run this Topic out into a Volum; she had obtain'd by a Mastery over her natural inclinations and pas∣sions, so perfect an union with Almighty God, that her whole Life seem'd to be one continu'd Act of love and Adoration. This Communication with God, was attended with that high degree of Pray∣er, which according to Divines consists in pas∣sively receiving the impressions of the Divine Spirit; insomuch, that her first Abbess Reverend Mother Taylor, who had spent several Years in that Holy practice, affirm'd, That it was so super∣natural and sublime, that all she had either read or heard upon that subject, came short of her Prayer, which thô she could never conceive or understand the depth of; yet she was fully convinced it was from God; as having so irrefragable a Testimony against Delusion, as was her humble Obedience and submission to her Ghost∣ly Fathers; in laying it aside as long as they judged sit;

thô in the mean time she felt so great desolati∣on, dryness and darkness, as she was better able to suffer then to express; which was a second proof and no less convincing than the former, of the Truth and Goodness of her Prayer, and of the Spirit that conducted her in it.

CHAP. VI.

The Excellency of her Prayer, gather'd from it's fruits.

IF the Rule, the Eternal Wisdom gives us, how to make a right judgment of any thing by it's fruits, be infallable, as certainly 'tis, we cannot miss the making a right one of the solidity and excellency of her Prayer; if we take a view of it's fruits. For let the Prayer be never so high, and never so hard to be understood, the fruits thereof are visible, and easily perceiv'd. Her Prayer then, thô it was very high, did not consist in extravagant Raptures and Transports, which sometimes draw to self esteem, stifness of judgment, a neglect of Rule and Order; but in the practice of all solid Vertues: As she her self hath given us to understand by transmitting un∣to us those Divine lights, and interior motions Almighty God infus'd into her Soul, which af∣ford us so many convincing arguments, of the

sollidity of her fervor and Devotion. Take then in her own words a short Summary of what she so long practis'd.

Some of her Fruits of Prayer.

How long, O most pure Object of Divine Love, shall I be deprived of that Soveraign good, which my Soul inces∣santly thirsts after? When will you put a period to this my tedious banishment? When shall I be satiated with the fruiti∣on of your glorious aspect? I am wholy transported with the love of your un∣speakable goodness, and my ardent af∣fections surpass the bounds of moderati∣on: But the consideration of the Beati∣fical Vision, and my own unworthiness gives me a severe check, and puts me in mind of my own aspiring presumption; telling me, that if my wandring thoughts soar so high, as to pretend to the favors of bosom friends; the heavy burden of my Inquities and Transgressions, will bring me to an unseasonable fall. O dis∣mal Consideration! O horrid desolation! This is the Dart that deeply pierces my poor Soul. This is that fierce and cruel Lyon, which with open Jaws seems

ready to devour me, and rend in pieces my bleeding heart; whether then shall I turn my self, but to you, O my God the fountain of mercy, and goodness? Suc∣cor this distressed Soul of mine, which you have framed according to your own likeness. But how can I hope for mer∣cy from you, my Powerful Creator? Whose Divine Perfections I have so often contemned; whose Sacred Law I have so frequently violated; whose Holy In∣spirations I have so much rejected; whose amiable Invitations I have most ungrate∣fully slighted, and wholy defaced the Sacred Image of your Divinity, which you imprinted on my Soul; nor can I alledge any Merits of my own, that may make me worthy of your favor or mer∣cy; but like a helpless wretch, my own Conscience crys out guilty, and fills me with shame and confusion before the Tribunal of your Sacred Majesty. What hopes then of redress? What Advocate to plead my cause? Shall the Sins of my Life past seperate me from what is so dear to me? O Eternal Sun of Glory, let the peircing beams of your bright∣ness dissipate the dark Clouds of my Transgressions; and open the way for an

Interview, between me and you, the only comfort of my Soul. Let the ar∣dent fire of your Charity dissolve what∣ever is hard and frozen in me; inflame my heart with an intense love for your Beauty and excellency; let not Heaven frown upon me, for therein lies all the Treasure I hope for.

Have mercy therefore upon me, O most compassionate Redeemer! I am that Prodigal Child, who have spent so many Years in Ignorance and Error, consum∣ing the precious substance of your So∣veraign Graces, by my vain and licen∣tious living, and now finding my self destitute of all Spiritual helps, by your sweet attracting Inspirations, I return full of sorrow and confusion, to you my loving Father, my skilful Physitian, my powerful Redeemer; I confess I have sinned against Heaven and before you; but open, I beseech you, the Bowels of compassion, and of your great mercy and bounty, receive me again into favor. I am that lost Sheep who have so long gone astray, from your Flock. But since it has pleased your never failing Provi∣dence, to bring me into the sweet Pastures of your Holy Catholic Church; keep

and preserve me in it, by your most powerful hand; let not the deceitful al∣lurements of the World, lay any farther infection upon my Soul. Heal my sores by the infusion of those Spiritual Graces, which your bitter Passion has Merited for me; bind up my wounds, cleanse me from my Iniquities, speak but the word, and my Soul shall live.

O let not any thing remain within me that may make me ungrateful to your most infinite Purity. Your All-seeing Eye does most clearly penetrate the most secret corners of my Soul. Burn there∣fore, and consume with that Fire of pure Charity, all the stubble and dross of my former transgressions; that I may have a pure Soul, suitable to your pure love; for you know, that nothing can satiate my ardent desires, but your self; in whom all good is contain'd: Give your self therefore O Beauty of Angels, give your self to my Soul, and I shall be rich e∣nough. But alas, what reciprocal Ob∣lation can I make, O source of goodness? I can give nothing to you but what I have receiv'd from you, take therefore to your self, my whole Being, take all the powers of my Soul, all the senses my

Body, my Heart, my Will, my Desires, and Affections; take all that I am, have, or can hope for, and if I had more I would give more; if I may call any thing a gift to your self, who are the Su∣preme Lord of all things; and there∣fore, whatever I can give you, is al∣ready your own; take therefore what is yours, and dispose of it, according to your most blessed Will and Pleasure: Make my Will yours, and let all the fa∣culties of my Soul never move, but to bless and praise you; that so drawing nearer and nearer to you, who are my sole delight, I may at length be wholy absorpt, in your Sacred Divinity, and Celebrate your praises with an Eternal Alleluia.

Thus you see how by the purgative, and il∣luminative way, she attains to the Unitive, af∣ter so high and wonderful a manner; that she seems to have traced out the foot-steps of that worthy Gentleman, and great Spiritualist, Mr. Ruisson (with whom as I before mention'd she became acquainted at Liege) and to have put in practice those admirable directions for Prayer, which at her request he gave her, in a Letter not long before her Death. Which since there appears in it an Idea of that Perfection, to which

he had arriv'd, and she so closely follow'd; thô it be somewhat long, yet I cannot believe it will seem tedious, and therefore have set it down at large in the following Chapter.

CHAP. VII.

Mr. Ruisson's Letter to Sister Clare; con∣taining admirable directions for Prayer and Vnion with God, in which Perfection chiefly consists: Together with her humble Answer.

DEar Sister in Iesus Christ, in the Coun∣try of darkness all is darkness. The light is reser'd for Heaven, which God hides from us in this World under Shadows, Visions and Figures, which St. Dennis of Alexandria admir'd. and reverenc'd, without understand∣ing them. Whilst Adam acted by the Prin∣ciples of Faith, he conserved himself in the State of Innocency, and Immortality, and in a perfect Vnion with God; but from the mo∣ment he endeavour'd to raise himself to the light of knowledge, he lost himself in it's dark∣ness, and became Criminal; because he desir'd a greater knowledge, than God had bestowed upon him.

So commonly the greatest Schollars, and most piercing Wits, do not make the humblest and greatest Saints. Learning is a Tyrant, that never failes to persecute them that possess it. It perverts their Wills, casts them into Pride, and presumption, and now and then into the Abyss of Heresie and Apostacy. Hence it is, that God has founded the Maxims of Faith, upon his word; whose chief Mysteries, and most necessary to Salvation, are incomprehen∣sible; that he might make the way to Heaven, equally easie to the Learned, and ignorant, to great and small; and so hold our Iudgments in a perfect Vnion, with all he should propose by his Church. Moreover, in this blind Obe∣dience, one may testifie a greater fidelity, and practice more Vertue; there being less of self love and satisfaction, and more courage and generosity, in an humble acknowledgment of our ignorance (such as St. Paul made when he said, He knew nothing but Christ Cru∣cified, and that he had no other knowledge, than what he had learnt at the foot of the Cross) than by being Master of a greater knowledge, than the greatest Doctors of the Church were inspir'd with. Wherefore Dear Sister, study fi∣delity more than knowledge, value Faith more than Life, and Love, more than curiosity; which Love operates in you the Vnion you desire,

and has made you like Abraham leave your House, your Country, and even those tender and Sacred Friendships, which were per∣mitted you to enjoy in the World: To the end that this Vnion might be so much the stronger and more pure, and that God might have an intire possession of your heart, which he before possessed but by halves.

Dear Sister, this absolute leaving all you possest, by your Profession in the face of the Church; this generous submitting your self, for time and Eternity, to the disposal of the Divine Providence; this blind Obedience, to the Voice of your Spouse, whom you have fol∣low'd; does not only unite you to him, but dis∣pose you to a perfect annihilation of your self; by which one comes to a kind of Deiformity, which is the Kingdom of God in a Soul; when abandoning her own knowledge, lights, desires, and will; she plunges her self with all the effects both of her natural and supernatural Being, into him; that henceforth she may say with St. Paul, Vivo ego, jam non ego, vi∣vit verò in me Christus; I live, now 'tis not I that live, but Christ that lives in me; all her works, being in a manner Gods operations.

'Tis then (when a Soul is arriv'd to this place) that God is her Life, her Being, her Light, and her Love; 'tis then that he works in her all things, she neither knowing the end, nor cause of them. And this shews the pos∣sibility, of not loosing God a moment, without a continual remembrance of him, or an appre∣hension of his presence; he who has his heart and eyes continually upon you, as if you were the Object of his happiness, cannot loose you for an instant; you have therefore nothing to loose; because he is your All; and you cannot loose any thing because you possess him, who is all things; and because you have left off what you were in appearance, and in your own judg∣ment; that he alone might raign and triumph in you, and be All in All to you. Besides a Soul in Grace, can neither forget, nor loose God for one single moment; as well according to nature (her Memory and Will being an in∣divisible part of her self, and without parts) as according to God who is her Treasure, the Me∣mory of her Memory, and the Will of her Will; which Powers being united to, and lost in God, have no more any Being or Action of their own; all their operations, Exterior and Interior being from God and in God; so that loss or gain, forgetting or remembring, must be the same to you; for if the actual and perceptible, re∣membring,

which passes by the sense and ima∣gination, were profitable for you; he loves you too well, to substract it from you for a moment. It is not therefore this exterior Image, repre∣sented to sense, that you ought to stop at, but rather at that Interior and Eternal Memory, which resides in the bottom of your Soul, and is continually in Action, because the Principle of Life is in it, and that is even the Life which makes it live; for in the State of it's Vnion with the Body, if cannot raise it self above what it sees and knows, without the help of some Figure, or Corporal Character; or at least some shadow of matter, which vanishes away by Faith, as all other material, transi∣tory, or corruptible things do. Your Per∣fection therefore dear Sister consists in being what you are, and doing, what you do, and in nothing else; if God looked for more be would more hearken after your desires, than his own; Holy indifferency in a State of Life or Vocation, is that which makes up every ones Perfection, and Sanctification; for to desire to be more than he has a mind we should be; to gape after more, than he has a mind to give; not to be content, with ones Portion; to be un∣willing to loose him a moment, when he re∣tires and hides himself from us on purpose, to dis-unite us from all things whatever, except

from his Holy Will; is an effect of self-love, which instead of uniting us more and more to him; doth rather separate and divide us from him.

It is a lamentable blindness of the greatest part of Spiritual Persons, and rather hinders, than augm••nts their Perfection; when they let themselves be carried on with too great a heat, and zeal to obtain it; whereas, they rather ought with patience, and sweetness, to expect it, from the pure goodness and Grace of God. How many Prayers, Works of Charity, Com∣munions, Watchings, Labors, Mortifications and Fasts, will one Day crave Iustice against us? For having done them by the Spirit of na∣ture, and to please our selves; and rather follow'd our own fancy and opinion, than the Will of God: Which by the Prophet Isaiah 58.3. he complaines of: He only requires from us pro∣portionably to what he gives us, and is satis∣fied with our doing his Will with a Purity of Intention, rather than our own; who Sancti∣fies even our defects, in that single Relation, they bear to his Orders, and Eternal designs; it is this which made St. Paul as well as St. Augustin say, He did the evil he would not, and did not the good he would; at which he was not at all troubled, knowing well that God does not impute to sin, the failings

of nature, which are not free; since love excu∣ses them, covers them, blots them out, and even turns them to our good, and glory. So that if you desire to profit by your own losses, to buy Heaven with bad Mony (and indeed we have no other) make a Divine Commerce, an Eternal Bargain with God; whereby your Will, which is a free, Spiritual; and an Immortal Power, Mistress of her self, and of all the other Powers, does from this moment for ever destine, imploy, and apply, all the parts and peices of your Being, to be (as the hand of a Dial that shows the hour) a perpetual Remembrance, Congratula∣tion, Thanksgiving and Iubilation for all the Praises, Homages, Respects and Adorations, which all Creatures give, or shall eternally give to God, for the love he bears to him∣self; to the end you may Adore, and Glorifie him in this Spirit; and love him with that eternal love, which alone is worthy of him: And God will shew you as much good will, and give you as great a reward for it, as if you your self did give all the Offerings, Sacrifices, and Bles∣sings, which Men and Angels give him in Heaven and Earth. Nay, the Will, that has an Infinity for it's Object, may make all the Individuals, of Human , and Angelical Natures; all the motions of Soul, and Body; Nay even all Created Beings, to an Atome

or grain of Sand; concur to so noble a work.

Good God how admirable, profitable, and Divine is this exercise! which costs nothing at all, and may be compleated in a moment? And what Treasures of Glory does a Man loose, that is either ignorant of it, or neglects it? Whilst he is busied in so many things, whilst he is sad or joyful, upon account of different accidents; without referring them to God, as their Origin: Since in him they are eternal, infinite, and most perfect, and out of him they are nothing but vanity and lys; that is finite, corruptible, and subject to an infinity of chan∣ges. Dear Sister, stop a while here, view this Spirit of Vnity, which is the Spirit of God him∣self, which gathers divided and dis-united things into one, to draw us out of multiplicity and the imperfection of nature, into this holy Vnion, with a Transformation into himself: Which makes one contrary to be found in the other, the Creature in God, Perfection in Im∣perfection, Vnity in Multiplicity, Light in Darkness, Peace in War, Recollection in Di∣straction, Sweetness in the Cross, Abundance in Poverty, Life in Death, Corporal in Spiri∣tual, God in All, and All in Him. Do not mistake me I beseech you, in thinking that be∣cause God changes so often his manner of pro∣ceeding

with you, he is not still yours, and you his; dive by the light of Faith, into the darkness where he hides himself penetrate the Veiles of Bodies and Spirits, with which he covers himself; see him act in all his Crea∣tures, giving them their determinate motion, who is properly their Life and Being: Not a Hair presents it self unto our Eyes, without his sight and permission; to the end, that that lively and active Faith of yours, may see him in his Images, and Characters; as we see a Saint in his Cloaths, or a Friend in Imagination; whilst we behold his Picture, that repairs the weakness of our Memory.

Dear Sister, make the last effort, imitate a King, who to Establish himself, and to Reign peaceably in a Kingdom newly Conquer'd; fills every place with horror and desolation: Puts to the Sword, not only such as oppose his de∣signs, but even rids himself of his suspected Friends, for fear of some Treasonable surprize. In like manner do you kill and destroy all your Sworn Enemies, Annihilate all your desires, and Passions, take leave even of what appears Vertue and Perfection; because they make a noise and pudder, and cause more Smoak and distractti∣on, than they augment the fire of Love: Bid Love enter into it's source, cause Humility to keep love Company, or debase it self below Luci∣fer;

and desire your Friends to sleep and take their repose; since the Son of Man goes to be abandoned, forsaken, and Crucified; to Establish God alone in All, and through All. His Dominion and Empire in a Soul in Grace, is the Creating Essence, or the very Essence of the Creator.

I have made an Epitome of the Nothing of all things, and of the All of God, which Practice will better explain, than reason: I hope this at present is sufficient to assure you, of the Affection of him who is, as much as any one in the World, except your Brother Clare, Dear Sister

Your most humble, and most affectionate Ser∣vant in God, RUISSON.

Herke Iuly 13. 1669.

To show with what Humility, and how brief∣ly and solidly she reply'd to this excellent Letter; I will here set down her Answer, Translated out of French, which contains a great deal of sub∣stance in a few words.

SIR,

I Confess 'tis a good while since I receiv'd your welcome Letter, which my indisposi∣tion hinder'd me till now from Answering: Please but to obtain for me some of that true and pure love of God, which you so well dis∣course of, and so faithfully practice, that ani∣mated thereby, I may be able to suffer sickness or whatever God pleases to send me, with such a perfect submission, and Vnion to his Divine Will, as that I may become intirely his; and then I shall be better able to converse with you, for at present I am unworthy of such a Conve••sa∣tion; but must own, that when 'tis God's Will to move you to Write to me, I both receive and read your Letters, with a great deal of com∣fort; yet cannot desire this, or any thing else; but that his Holy Will should be done in all things. Amen.

SIR,

Your most un∣worthy Ser∣vant, CLARE of JESUS. For the Love of God, and the Blessed Vir∣gin Pray for me.

CHAP. VIII.

A Short Account of some remarkable pas∣sages, in the Life and Death of Mr. Ruisson.

SInce Mr. Ruisson's Letter, set down in the foregoing Chapter, as you have seen, con∣tains so much Spirit and Devotion, I think it will be no unpardonable digression, if I add a word or two concerning himself, that the Reader may be convinced, that this Servant of God practized what he Taught; and thereby be in∣duc'd to set a high value and estimate, as well upon his Person, as upon his Doctrin; and also conceive a higher esteem of Sister Clare; since a Person so Illuminated and favor'd by God as he was, exprest so high an esteem of her, and such a Zeal to serve her, in so earnestly promo∣ting her advancement in Perfection, and the ser∣vice of God.

Take for a mark of his Humility, (a Vertue that is the foundation of all Perfection) the humble Letter he Writ to Brother Clare, then Studying Philosophy at Liege, in which he in∣closed the foresaid Letter, unsealed; where after all the pains he had taken in Writing it, and in obtaining light from Heaven, without which,

such a Letter could not be Writ; left the send∣ing or burning it intirely to him, confiding more in the Judgment of others, than his own; a great mark of Humility, and of the true Spirit of God. His Letter follows, Translated out of Latin in which it was Writ.

Dearest Brother in Christ,

I Receiv'd your Letter with the inclosed from Dearest Sister Clare, which I here send you, to let you see her great Humility; 'twas to me a true Spur to Vertue, perceiving thereby, she adhears only to God, this being her sole aime, this her only desire: And to express her Hu∣mility the more, she asks of me, altogether ig∣norant of this Vnion or Transformation, some directions to obtain it, or rather a method of re∣moving all impediments of that, she her self possesses; but knows not she does so: And ra∣ther than not satisfie her great Humility, I am most willing to discover my own ignorance; and have therefore said what occur'd, on this high, but profitable subject; easier learnt by Practice, than taught by Rules: If you approve of them please to send them, and that she may like them the better, and receive them rather from the hand of God, than that of a Sinner (thô her Hu∣mility will not permit her to reject them upon this account) please to shew them to some ex∣perienc't

persons of your Colledge, that they may have their approbation, especially to some of those, who have treated with her, and there∣fore can best judge whether they will be profi∣table for her: If they disapprove them, burn them; for I had no other aime in Writing them, than to shew that there was nothing more grateful to me than by serving her, to express my esteem and affection, for so great a Servant of God, as I esteem her to be: For to serve her, is a greater happiness and treasure to me, than any this World can afford me. I recom∣mend my self and Family to your Prayers, and am from the bottom of my heart,

Dearest Brother,

Your most humble, and unworthy Servant, RUISSON.

His Son the chief hopes of his Family, being now grown up in Years, and having had an Education suitable to his Birth and Quality, Mr. Ruisson design'd presently to Marry him, that he might see him happily settl'd in the World, before he left it; and therefore made it his business to find out a Match that was convenient for him. But whilst the good Father was thus contriving to settle his Son in the World, his Heavenly Father called him out of it, not immediately to himself, but to a Religious Life, the best and next way to him; for his Son finding himself inspir'd by God, to enter a∣mong the Discalc't Carmelites, was fearful of proposing it to his Father (knowing his de∣signs look't another way, and believing it im∣possible to gain his consent) and chose ra∣ther first to enter into Religion, and then ac∣quaint his Father with it: Which he did presently after in a very Dutiful Letter, assuring him that the too great affection he bore him, made him not discover his Inclinations to Reli∣gion, apprehending on the one side least his compassion, in being a Spectator of his Fathers afflictions, might be so great, as even to make him stagger in his Vocation; and on the other, fearing he should be wanting in his gratitude to God, for having given him so gratious a Call to the most happy State of a Religious Life; if he did not first embrace the happiness God call'd him to, before he acquainted his Father, with his design: Wherefore he beg'd his par∣don

for so bold an attempt; for he hop't his prefering what he thought Gods Will, before his, would not appear a Crime; and that it might not, he desir'd him rather to Attribute his not asking his advice, to the diffidence he had in his own strength, to resist his kind and powerful perswasions; than to a want of due confidence in him; assuring him, that in all o∣ther things, he should make it his utmost endea∣vour to contribute to his greater comfort and sa∣tisfaction, and thereby express his due Obedi∣ence to his last breath.

Mr. Ruisson was indeed, as his Son expected, much surpriz'd at this Letter, but 'twas with a joyful, not sorrowful surprizal; for contrary to his Son's apprehension, he congratulates with him for his happy choice, by which he had rais'd his felicity above whatever he could have hop't to compass for him in this World, should he have been able to have left him the Universe. And as for what concern'd his, and his Families advance∣ment by the Match he had in prospect for him; he look't upon it as unworthy of his thoughts, in comparison of the comfort he took, in seeing him so: happy by the choice he had made: Assuring him, he should be better pleas'd to have his Family end this way, than to leave him Master of it: Because by his quitting these transitory goods, he had put-himself into a se∣cure way of gaining, not only a Hundred-fold in this life, according to our Saviours promise to those that quit Father or Mother, House or Lands, &c.

for his sake; but an Everlasting Inheritance, and an E∣ternal felicity in the next. And therefore, he ra∣ther Congratulated, and envy'd his Pious under∣taking, than dis-approv'd or repin'd at it. And in a Letter to Brother Clare not long after this had happen'd, he Writes as follows. VVhilst my thoughts were taken up about Marrying my Son, behold a wonderful effect of Providence, a change wrought by the powerful hand of the highest, more pleasing to me than the gaining an Empire: He without acquain∣ting me, or any of his friends with his design, is enter'd to be Religious amongst the Carmelites: Expressing hereby such a contempt of the VVorld, as it truly deserves. VVherefore, pardon me if I have recourse to yours, as I have to the rest of my friends Prayers; that the mercy of God would vouchsafe to cherish that Seed of his Grace, he has cast into his Heart; and not permit my unworthy∣ness to be any impediment to the continuance of his mercy towards him.

Not long after, his House at Herke, near Moun∣tague, was casually set on Fire, and happening in the Night, 'twas so late discover'd, that all en∣deavours they could use, towards the quenching of it, prov'd in-effectual; nor were they able to save any thing considerable of his Goods: He was all the time as busie as any one, in his endea∣vours, both to suppress the Fire, and secure what he could of his Goods; but when he found the Fire had got the upper hand, and all his endeavours were in vain, he went and warmed himself (it being Winter time) with as much unconcernedness, tranquillity, and chearfulness of

mind (which visibly appear'd in his Countenance) as if it had been a Bone-fire; which one of his Neighbors took great notice of, and extreamly wondering at this his extraordinary comport∣ment, asked him how it was possible to suffer so great a Cross, with so much calmness and chear∣fulness, as he exprest by his looks? To which he Answer'd, That he looked upon what had happen'd to be the VVill of God, who had abundantly re∣compensed his loss, by giving him a greater comfort and satisfaction, in seeing his blessed VVill perform'd in this manner, than he could have receiv'd, had he bestow'd upon him an infinity of Earthly Treasures, and Temporal Blessings.

Another very remarkable thing of this Gentle∣man is, that the day before his Death, Brother Clare going to Montague, took his way by Herke, to have the satisfaction of giving Mr. Ruisson a Visit (who had been so kind as to give him many at Liege, upon the account of that Spiritual Friendship, which he had contracted with Sister Clare) coming thither, he found him very sick; yet perfectly in his Senses, and as chearful as ever he had seen him; but was concern'd to see him lay'd after so poor a manner upon the ground, and asking the reason of it; his Servants signified, that it was in Obedience to his own Orders, they had made his Bed in that manner; and that he would scarse, thô in so weak a con∣dition, admit of any help from them; and had also desir'd his Wife, for his, as well as for her own greater comfort (being he saw she suffer'd

very much to see him in that condition) that she would not come to him; but leave him to make the best use he could, of those few mo∣ments he had left. Brother Clare, thô pleas'd to see him, as Mr. Ruisson also seem'd to be with his Visit, yet was troubl'd to see him so ill accoma∣dated; and therefore beg'd of him, to accept at least of such helps and conveniences, as that dan∣gerous condition he was in requir'd, that might conduce both to his ease in his sickness, and con∣tribute also to his recovery; for the manner he had order'd himself to be treated, could not but much augment his distemper, which of it self was already too great. To all which he reply'd, That could he be without those conveniencies he still had, he should be very glad; and if he did but know what comfort he receiv'd by the want of those he had depriv'd himself of, he would rather press him to quit those he had left, than desire him to admit of others; and then asked Brother Clare, VVhether he thought the Inconveniencies he suffer'd were comparable to those which our Saviour had suffer'd, for his sake? And farther aver'd, That the only trouble he now felt, was, that he could not suffer more at his Death; to express his Love to him, that dyed with so much pain for him upon the Cross. He expressed this with such a chearful and unconcern'd Counte∣nance, as made Brother Clare not think him to be in that danger, that others thought he was in; otherwise he would have given himself the comfort and advantage of being present at his Death: Which happen'd the same Night he left him. He giving no less evidence of his Vertue

at his Death, than he had done in his Life; not only by a perfect: Resignation to Gods Will in suffering it; but by earnestly desiring, as St. Paul did, To be dissolv'd, and to be with Christ.

Perhaps the occasion of this great Friendship, he exprest both to Brother and Sister Clare, proceeded from those Inclinations he found in himself, to do what they had done; and in this without doubt Almighty God made him a kind of living Martyr; even by the too great Affecti∣on of the Person, he loved most in the World (I mean his Wife) who out of the tender Af∣fection she had for him, never would give her consent, for their retirement into Religion; thô he had frequently desir'd it, with very great in∣stance: And this kind cruelty of hers, was doubt∣less so great a cross, as nothing but his Love to Gods Will could sweeten, and render suppor∣table: The truth of which he one Day confidently discover'd to Brother Clare; for discoursing with him about the happiness of a Religious Vocation, he told him in Confidence, That it was a double favor, that God had bestow'd upon him, in giving him such a Vocation, in the State he was in; and at the same time affording him, the means of putting it in execution, by giving his Lady the same inclination. God indeed, says he, has been so good as to grant me the first, by letting me see the happiness of a Religious State, and giving me very earnest desires of entering into Religion; but as yet he has vouchsafed to give me little hopes of putting these in execution; not perceiving he gives the same to my VVife; and added, that he

found it very hard to receive such a Mortification, as a refusal was, to so advantagious a request, from a person he so intirely lov'd, and who also refus'd it out of a Mo∣tive of love to him; wherefore he thought this so great an affliction, as 'twas impossible for any one to conceive the greatness of it, that did not actually feel it.

CHAP. IX.

A remarkable passage of her burning her Picture, a little before her Death.

'TIS a common Axiom in Philosophy, that motion (for example, in a Stone cast down from a high place) the nearer it comes to the end, or Center to which it tends, the more swift it is. Sister Clares example seems to prove, that the same Axiom holds no less in Moral than in Natural Philosophy; for thô from her first Conversion to the Catholic Faith, and her entrance into Religion, which immediately fol∣low'd the other, she never stopt; but still made a constant and continual progress in Perfection; managing each pretious moment of time to the best advantage, to prepare her self for a happy Eternity; still advanceing towards her end and Center of her affections, God himself: Yet there is one instance of her Zeal, that happen'd a little before her Death, which manifestly proves that

the nearer she approacht her end, the swifter progress she made; and thô perhaps what I am about to relate, may at the first fight appear to some less considerable; yet whosoever shall right∣ly weigh it, cannot but be of my opinion, that it far exceeded the other actions of her Life; expressing a strange fund of Humility, Con∣tempt of her self, and solid Piety; which also e∣vidences that the lower she hereby debast her self, in her own thoughts, the higher she was rais'd in Gods esteem, and in a very short time mounted to such a hight of Perfection, as de∣serv'd immediately to be Crown'd.

Brother Clare, long before he, or she had any thoughts of Religion, had procur'd her Picture to be drawn in Miniature, by that famous and renown'd Artist Mr. Cooper, which being extream∣ly well done , and very like her , he caus∣ed to be set in Gold, with a Cristal before it. This Picture he sent to her with other things to Graveling, supposing she would bestow them up∣on the Children : As soon as they came, she beg'd leave to dispofe of the Picture; Mother Abbess thinking she desir'd this leave, that she might give it to one of her Children, told her she might dispose of it as she pleas'd; she had no sooner obtain'd Mother Abbesses consent, but she presently endeavour'd to get the Picture out of the Case; and what a Workman could scarce have done with Tools in a Quarter of an hours time, Providence, helpt her with a Pin only, to take out in a moment (even to her own admi∣ration,

as she afterwards declar'd) and lest her design should be discover'd, before she could meet with a conveniency of burning it; she im∣mediately scratcht the Face all over with the same Pin, with which she had taken it out of the Case, and as soon as she came to the Fire, so dextrously threw it in, that none perceiv'd it. Not long after, Reverend Mother Abbess asking for the Picture, Sister Clare ingenuously told her what she had done with it, having had her leave, to dispose of it as she pleas'd: And Bro∣ther Clare hearing also she had burnt it, and some time after Expostulating with her, for having depriv'd the Children of so comfortable a Trea∣sure, as that would have been to them; she made him this Answer, That she was sorry she had done what she found was displeasing to him, which he would not have disapprov'd had he reflected how fit it was, that the Picture, of what she had taken so much Pride in, should come to no better an end, than the Original deserv'd; Ingeniously covering and excusing one act of Humility with another. This seem'd to be the last Action that God Al∣mighty had reserv'd, for the compleating of her Crown; for the very Morning that the Coppy thus perish'd, the Original was seiz'd on by her last Sickness, as if the Humility she had exprest in burning her Picture, had obtain'd of God to perfect the Original, and render it more like his own Image, by calling her to his Beatifical Vision; St. Iohn assuring us, VVe shall be like him when we shall see him as he is; Providence also hereby

manifesting, that the more earnestly she desir'd to be forgot by Creatures, the more she was re∣membred and rewarded by her Creator. So that whilst Sister Clare thus fervently endeavour'd in a little time, to make up a great Crown, by a faithful practice of all Vertues; especially, of a profound Humility, the foundation of them all; Almighty God, as I before hinted, design'd to put a Period to her Vertuous course; judging it time to reward the labors of so Penitential a Life, as her love had caus'd her both to under∣take for his sake; and to make such wonderful progress in, as I have recounted: Whereby she deserv'd the Encomium, which the Holy Ghost gives a fervent Soul, Viz. that she had consum∣mated or heapt together in a short time, so great a stock or Treasure of Vertue and Merits, as others in a long time, even in many Years were not able to obtain.

CHAP. X.

The Foresight God gave her of her Death, her concern for her Fathers Conversion, and her Letters to him about it.

THE reward that God often bestows upon persons of an extraordinary Piety and Ver∣tuous Life, is a foresight and knowledge of their Death; both to animate them to spend the short time that remains, to make up their Crown with greater fervor; and the better to prepare themselves for this change, by a frequent Resignation, and ardent desires of a happy diso∣lution, that ends in the beginning of an Eter∣nal Union with himself. 'Tis probable, as we may gather from that which follows, that God had bestow'd this favor upon Sister Clare; for whom Reverend Mother Abbess being much con∣cen'd, by reason of the accident which that Morn∣ing had happen'd to her, of falling into a sound in the Quire, (she having no less kindness and tenderness for her, than her Predecessor had) went to Visit her in the Infirmary, whether she had order'd her to retire her self, to try if she could repose; thinking nothing better for her: Where finding she had got two or three hours rest, Mother Abbess was much comforted to see her so

extraordinary chearful, as she seem'd to be; hereupon she told her, she thought the worst was now past; and exprest how comforted she was to see her so well. She smiling told Mother Ab∣bess, That she thanked God she found her self ready and most perfectly resign'd to embrace his Holy VVill in all things, and therefore had no apprehensions at all of Death; nay, if she could desire one thing more than another, it would be rather to die, than live: And that which now com∣forted her, was the thought that this would be her last Sickness. Reverend Mother Abbess earnestly desir'd her to lay aside these thoughts, telling her there was not the least appearance of any danger of Death; and that she hop't soon to see her as well again, as ever she was in her Life: But she Answer'd with a smiling Countenance, full of comfort and conformity. Dear Mother, God has now decided a Question (which I have often thought of with no small trouble) Viz. VVhether Brother Clare or I should die first? For knowing how great an Af∣fliction, the Death of either would be to the surviver; and diffiding in my own strength and ability to bear such a cross; and on the other side compassionating the af∣fliction, which I am sure he would suffer, I durst never beg the one, or the other. But now it is Gods VVill that I should go first, and this Sickess is to carry me to my Grave. I doubt not, but his Infinite goodness, who designs to give Brother Clare this Cross, will also give him strength to bear it. This passage alone is an undeniable Argument, as I said before, of her being a Favourite of Heaven, and evidently shews the great Union she had with God in

Prayer, and is a signal token of her great Conformity to the Will of her Heavenly Father.

After she had imparted this sad and Propheti∣cal News to Reverend Mother Abbess, her Fea∣vor grew more violent, which finding a Body so exhausted and broken, it soon got the Ma∣stery over Nature, and render'd her unable to take any farther care or charge of her Children; yet did not hinder her from prosecuting her Pious endeavours for her Fathers Conversion; by making use of that little strength she had left, to Write at different times the following Letter.

SIR,

MY true and Passionate desires for your happiness, cannot be lessen'd by any severity of yours, nor can your silence frighten me out of the concern, I ought to have for your felicity to my last breath. The dayly ex∣perience I have, of the comfort and happiness that there is, in being in the true Catholic Church, breaks my heart to think that you are out of it; and that I am yet so uncertain of meeting you in an Eternity of Ioys. O let it not be so any longer, the ways to God are sweet and easie, you'l never find comfort, seek it as long as you please, but in God. You

would pardon me this presumption I allow my self; if you saw my heart, and Tears which almost hinder me from Writing this Letter; and I am sure they would move your goodness to a compliance with my request, in vouchsafe∣ing me an Answer; which I shall receive on my Knees with inexplicable joy, if it please God that I live till it comes. I humbly beg your blessing, and my Ladies, for the Chil∣dren and

Your unworthy Child, CLARE of JESUS.

Not long after she had Writ this Letter, a good occasion offering it self by a Gentlemans passing through Graveling, who going for England, undertook to deliver a Letter to her Father, with his own hand; she took the pains to Write again, being mov'd to it by the thoughts of her own approaching Death, as well as by the news of the Death of several of her Fathers Neighbours and Relations, which put her in mind of what might happen to him, and how unprepared he was for it.

SIR,

WHilst I was making a strict iniquiry, how I might speedily, and securely send you another Letter, in hopes that before I die, your goodness would move you to vouch∣safe me the comfort of such an Answer, as my heart most passionately longs for; Providence was pleas'd to bring a Gentleman this way, who has kindly offer'd me the safe conveyance of this Letter into your hands; wherefore, thô I very lately troubl'd you with one, and thô Writing in the weak condition I am in, gives me a great deal of pain; yet that of the Body is nothing in respect of the pain my Soul suf∣fers, as often as I reflest upon the danger yours is in; and that the Eternal happiness of that, depends upon the uncertain moments of this transitory Life. Wherefore Dear Sir, once more upon my Knees, I humbly beg your Blessing, which perhaps will be the last time I shall ask it, and also beg the comfort of hearing of your health, which I hope is good, thô I thank God mine is at present in a very low condition; his Divine Will be done in me, who does all things for the best. Alas Sir, when I consider that we are all Mortal, and that there is an Eternity of Happiness or Misery that attends us; how can I refrain from being

thus troublesome? Since I know not how soon that change may come to you, which I have reason to expect will soon happen to my self; and which I lately heard, has arriv'd to several of your Neighbors; who thô young, and (as I fear) far from the thoughts of it, are now but Dust. How then can the pain that my Heart feels be conceal'd? Or indeed, how can I express what I feel, till you are out of danger; and in such a condition, as Death may be welcome to you, whenever it comes? For God's sake Sir think of it, surely such a number of Martyrs, and Learned Confessors, have not dispised the World, and suffer'd, for nothing; Oh no, God speaks to us in every thing, and all the Benefits that we receive, every moment proclaim his good∣ness; who requires nothing but that we Believe, be Sorry, and be Saved. And when we do be∣lieve in, and love Iesus Crucified, that we hate our selves for having offended so much love: Having done this, what he requires for our Re∣pentance, instead of seeming hard, will prove sweet and easie. And so I doubt not but it will to you (Dear Sir) if at my humble request you will do this; and that you will find such a joy and comfort in the doing it, as all your past Life could never afford you. Behold me now therefore prostrate (if I could) below the Feet of all Creatures, and even the Earth it

self, to beg of you for Christs sake, not to de∣ny my request, of retiring your self two or three Days, to consider the Truth of things; and to take to heart your Eternal concern. If I were dying you would not deny me this, and I know not how far I am from it at present, being very ill of a languishing distemper, which I fear will end in Death. And there∣fore I beg it of you, as my last request; with all the tenderness and earnestness, my Soul can express; assuring you, that your grant of it will be as dear to me, as the Life you gave me. Pardon my too great boldness, I beseech you, for thô I would not for the World willingly of∣fend you, yet I cannot avoid making this pre∣sumptuous request (as I fear you will think it) Dear Sir, my heart is too full of Affection, Respect and Concern for you, to be silent where your Eternal happiness is in so eminent a danger. I humbly beg my Ladies and your own Blessing for

Your Poor Sick Child, CLARE of JESUS.

CHAP. XI.

Her interior sufferings, in time of her sick∣ness, and the effects of her Childrens Visit.

ONE would have thought that the infinite goodness of God, which permits him not to be behind hand with his Creatures, seeing her in the interior affliction she suffer'd, upon ac∣count of her Father, as the foresaid Letters suf∣ficiently express; as well as the exterior she felt from her Sickness, and a want of those helps to bear it, which the Austerity of her Order per∣mitted not the use of, and which her love for him had therefore made her choose, loving suffering above all things in this World, because it was the best expression she could make of her love to him: I say, one would have thought that the goodness of God would have mov'd him to temper, and sweeten these great afflictions, with some interior Comforts; but it happen'd, that his Providence dealt quite otherwise with her, not out of a want of Love, but out of an abundance of it; who seeing the fidelity and courage, with which she serv'd him, and her constant Conformity to his Divine Will, even in the hardest things; and knowing also, what an Eternal weight of Glory, these momentary sufferings gain'd for her, and

that the more pure her sufferings were, the greater also was her gain; seem'd to withdraw himself together with all interior comforts that accompany a sensible feeling of his presence, so intirely from her, that she thought he had totally abandon'd, and forsaken her; thô still he resided in the se∣cret of her heart, and invisibly assisted her to bear this most sensible affliction. Declaring one Day these her sufferings to a Sister that came to Visit her, who was a great confident of hers, she desir'd her to Pray for her, that she might intirely abandon her self to Gods Will; and signified to her how great an addition it was to the Mortification her sickness brought with it, that it depriv'd her of Religious observance; especially, that of the Divine Office. Another time she exprest her self to those that Visited her in the following manner. Happy are you dear Sisters, that can assist in the Quire amongst those Seraphims (for so she call'd the Religious) in praising and loving God, and can still be punctual in the performance of all other things, that Religious Observance requires; alas, we never know a Benefit till we are depriv'd of it. How happy was I when I had strength and abilities to perform, what our Rules require; but not justly acquĭtting my self in the performance of them, God has justly placed me here, and taken that happiness from me; to whom I humbly sub∣mit; for I know his Infinite VVisdom thinks it best to have it so, his Holy VVill be done: Adding moreover, That it seem'd to her, since she had left these exercises, as if God also had abandon'd her; and that she had nothing now to comfort her self withal; but the thoughts that

he treated her no worse then his own Son, whom also he had a∣bandon'd for her sake; all therefore she was able now to do, was to unite these her interior sufferings and derelictions, to those he suffer'd upon the Cross, when he complain'd of his Eternal Fathers forsaking him; and beg'd of them to assist her with their Prayers, that she might bear this tryal, as she ought; testifying, that the pain it occasion'd was so great, as that it had made her almost insensible of her exterior sufferings, neither feeling the pain of her distemper, nor ta∣sting what was given her to Eat. One of the good Sisters thinking to give her ease in these her suffer∣ings, at least for some little time, desir'd she would admit of a Visit from her Children; but she knowing, how much her indisposition had chang'd her from what she had been formerly, was unwil∣ling; for fear she should not have strength enough to maintain that equality of mind, which she had till then exprest in such like occasions; yet after much intreaty she gave her consent, that they should be brought to her; no sooner were they come to the Bed-side, but she fell a weeping. This unexpected accident made them presently be taken away from her, and after they were gone, the Sister asked her, the cause of her Tears, she answer'd, 'twas my tenderness that made me VVeep, being well I had often much a do to for∣bear the expressing the sentiments of a Mother; but now being overcome by sickness, I cannot overcome my self. Then the Sister asked her, How she had attain'd to that great Mortification, and conquest over Nature? She reply'd, That from the moment she left Brother Clare, all things, but God were displeasing to her, and

that the Children putting her in mind of that other Sa∣crifice, which she had made to God, caus'd her a new to settle her Affections upon her Creator, which by the assistance of his Divine Grace, could not be alter'd by any Creature. Perhaps the thoughts, that this was the last time she should ever see them in this World, and that they were to be left to the care of strangers, or else expos'd to a dangerous Education by their Protestant Relations, might occasion her tenderness in this Visit, which she overcame in the next; in which the Children were also taken from her, upon account of their own, arid not of their Mothers Tears. As soon as they were out of the Room, Mother Abbess asked her, If she were not troubled for them, No, said she, I bless God not in the least, for I have long since given them into his hands and powerful protection, who I am sure can, and will take care of them.

Without doubt (as the Religious took no∣tice of before) she had as great a Tenderness for her Children, as a Mother could have, and yet she was so much Mistress over this passion, as she seem'd to have none at all for them, which made one of the Religious once tell her in Re∣creation, That she would be much above her in Heaven by reason of the great Oblation she had made; To whom Sister Clare Answer'd, It is you dear Sister, that will meet with the highest place there, for having given your self to him, when you were Young, making him your only Spouse; upon which the Sister reply'd, And do you count it a small thing to leave Brother Clare, and your two Angelical Children? Here her Humili∣ty

would not let her own the greatness of the gift, yet her love to God forced her to make this acknowledgment. In leaving Brother Clare and my Children, I cannot say that I have left nothing, and then smiling said; God deserves greater Sacrifices Dear Sister, than we can make him.

CHAP. XII.

Another tryal God gave her to compleat her Crown.

'TIS a strange and wonderful Paradox, that affliction should be a mark of Love; yet the Divine Wisdom, Truth it self has declar'd, That God Chastises those he Loves. If this therefore be true as certainly 'tis, his Love to Sister Clare was very extraordinary, who gave her so many marks of it, by sending her so many afflictions: But one comfort she exprest to have still left, was, that she should die before Brother Clare; but God would not per∣mit her long to enjoy this neither; and would also give her this tryal, even when she was in so very weak a condition, as made her less able to bear it, Viz. the suspition of Brother Clares Death, which happen'd from his unwonted silence to several Let∣ters she had Writ to him, and in some of them about the Children's concerns, which she knew he would not fail to Answer by the first op∣portunity;

and because she was disappointed in this, she imagin'd, that he was dead; and under that conviction suffer'd as much, as if he had been truly so; yet she silently underwent this hidden affliction for a long time with that cou∣rage, as not to discover any outward sign of grief at all; till at last her want of strength, forc't her at least to a change of Countenance, caus'd by this following accident. She giving some Letters which she had Writ to Brother Clare, to send by a Father that was going to Liege; the Sister that was to carry them to the Father, finding them open, desir'd her to Seal them, upon which proposal they discern'd a more then ordinary change in her Countenance; which proceeded, as afterwards she own'd, from the Confirmation this action of the Sister gave to the suspition she before had of his Death; she believing that to hide it, such care was taken that she should Seal her Letters. This certainly was one of the greatest tryals that could befal her, or that could call her constancy in the love of God to a more than ordinary Test. If you de∣sire to know the conflict she felt, and how she behaved her self in it, take it in her own words, as I find amongst her Papers, she gave account of it to her Ghostly Father. The Combat I had, and how I wholy offer'd up Brother Clare to Almighty God, which I beseech him, our Blessed Lady, and all my Patrons and Patronesses, to assit me to keep: I by Almighty Gods Grace resolv'd to make this Sacri∣fice to his greater Honor and Glory; and when I heard the Mass Bell Ring, my heart trembl'd, and I was all

in a Commotion; the first thing as I remember I did was to fancy him dead, and so I presented him at our Blessed Ladies Feet, and beseecht her to offer him up for me; I beg'd also the ayd of St. Bruno and St. Teresa, and then I resolv'd never to desire to see him, and if he should come, never to look on him, to put him clearly out of my heart, to be no more concern'd in him than a stran∣ger; then it came into my mind to behold him dead, and to say to Almighty God I was glad of it, and would have it so, since he was pleas'd to have it so, but this cut my heart into a thousand pieces: Then I re∣solv'd I would never give my self any pleasure, in talk∣ing of him or suffer my self to feel that contentment in heaving of him, or from him; then I resign'd my self, that he should persecute me, and that he should have no concern in me, then I presum'd to take our Savior for my Spouse, and resolv'd to go to him and complain in all my troubles, as I us'd to do to Brother Clare, to rejoyce to hear him prais'd or well spoken of, and so perfectly turn the stream of my affections intirely to our Savior; but then I thought how durst I take our Savior for my Spouse, I was not pure enough for that; this kept me back and dasht all my joy; but methought, howsoever, thô I did not feel that quietness I hop't, yet he would accept of me; and so I presum'd to do it. Then again methougbt I must never speak of that af∣fection we had for one another, which I resolv'd never to do; then God enabl'd me to make an act of resignation to his Death, for I am sure I could do nothing of my self; so that now I go imagining him dead, and I will strive to think there was never such a Person. After this I resolv'd to confirm all this by Vow, if my

director approv'd it, which he did; and said, if ou•• Savior would not take me for his Spouse, he would be pleas'd to take me for his hand-maid, and that was Ho∣nor enough.

All Glory, Praise and Honor, be to my good God.

In all this time I suffer'd what cannot be exprest, and these things came into my mind without stoping, as if some one had presented them to my thoughts to torment me. God be thankt for all.

The great kindness she here expresses for Brother Clare, gave her without doubt the chief cause of that trouble, which the apprehension of his Death oc∣casion'd; but that which extreamly augmented this affliction, was the confirmation that this appre∣hension gave her, of the truth of another suspition (which as I before mention'd had extreamly af∣flicted her) that she was left and abandon'd by Almighty God; perceiving her self deluded, in two points she thought God had revealed to her, Viz. her dying of that sickness, and that she should dye before Brother Clare: She now per∣ceiving Heaven had decided the Question, contrary to what she had before communicated to Reverend Mother Abbess. In these continual convulsions of doubts and fears, she remain'd for about two Months, in a very languishing condition of health; and during all that time, had an occa∣sion of making as many Sacrifices of Brother Clare, as she had thoughts of him. And it seem'd to be a more than an ordinary effect of Providence, that so many Letters should meet with so un∣fortunate mis-carriages at this time; for thô Bro∣ther

Clare receiv'd, and Answer'd every Letter she Writ; yet not one of his Answers came to her hands; Almighty God foreseeing what an addition would be made to her Crown by this interruption of Correspondence; by reason of the infinite acts of resignation she dayly made to Gods Holy Will, in bearing his suppos'd Death, with so singular and invincible a patience, even in that low and weak condition she was in, her forces seeming to be quite exhausted; yet neither by sighing, or any other exterior Mark of grief, did she ever give any sign of this interior sorrow she suffer'd; which without doubt was the greater, the more it was supprest. Perhaps we had never come to a perfect and intire knowledge of this great and sensible afflicti∣on she so couragiously underwent (thô her Paper mentions part of it) had not Mother Abbess, when one Day she came to Visit her, acci∣dentally askt her, whether any thing troubl'd her; bidding her tell her, if there did: When behold the love she had for prompt Obedience, overcame that, which before she had exprest for silent suffering; for without any more a do, and without the least passion, she told her, Dear Mother I believe Brother Clare is Dead, which I suppose out of too much kindness and Charity towards me, you endeavour to conceal from me, knowing how unable I am to bear so great an affliction; but if God please to have it so, his Holy VVill be done, he who gave him to me, and now gives me this cross by taking him from me, hows what is best for me; whose goodness, as I conside, will assist me to suffer, whatever his

VVisdom thinks best to ordain. Mother Abbess us'd the best Arguments she could to convince her, that her apprehension was without ground; but Sister Clare insisting upon his silence as an infallible argument of his Death; Mother Abbess could not so well Answer it, having receiv'd for a long time no Letters from him; but was forc't to leave her still in a doubt and apprehension, that what she suspected might be true. But the next Day there came a Packet of Letters from Liege, which Mother Abbess no sooner receiv'd, but she carry'd it with all speed to Sister Clare; telling her with a great deal of joy, that she had brought such a convincing Argument along with her, that Brother Clare was not dead, as she could not give her the last time she was with her; Viz. a Letter she had just receiv'd from him to her. She receiv'd this welcome news with a great deal of joy, declaring it was a double comfort to her to find he was in good health, and that the strong inspiration she had receiv'd of her dying before him, that she had also inform'd her of, prov'd no illusion, as she fear'd it had been: But added that the Letter came too late for her to be able to read it, or indeed, to hear it Read at present, finding her Head so weak, as that she could not attend to it; nor indeed was she afterwards so well as either to desire any one to Read it, or did any one think her in a condition to propose the Reading of it to her: And 'tis most probable, her desire to the very last, of seeking her greater Mortification in all things, as well as the memory

of the Vow, which with her Confessors permis∣sion she had made, of never giving her self any satis∣faction in hearing of him, or from him, made her take the pretence of her weakness, to deny her self the satisfaction, which hearing the Letter would have given her. Thô the truth is she was extreamly weak, her strength dayly diminishing, thô the Doctor did not apprehend her so near her Death as in reality she was; she never expressing to him, or to those that attended her, any thing at all of what she felt or suffer'd; and therefore all that he could frame a judgment from, were the guesses of others, as well of his own from her pulse; which having been weak and low for a long time, he thought she might still hold out a good while; thô he believ'd she would never recover from that sickness. The only concern she had now left, was for her Fathers Conversion, and what would become of the Children after her Death; which the thoughts of Brother Clares Death, had for some time hinder'd her from think∣ing upon.

CHAP. XIII.

Her concern for her Father and Children. She seeks her greater Mortification, even to the last. The Declaration of her satisfacti∣on in her State of Life, a little before her Death.

THe concern Sister Clare had been in, for the sus∣pected Death of Brother Clare, and fright of her own being deluded, had for some time made her forget her concern for her Father; but no soon∣er were those apprehensions taken away, but this return'd, together with the apprehension, least after her Death, her Father should endeavour to prosecute his design of geting the Children into England; and there, perverting them from the Catholic Faith, bring their Souls into as danger∣ous a condition as his own was in: But now not being able to Write her self, she desir'd one of the Religious to Write, what she would dictate to her, which she did in the following words.

SIR,

BEing at present, unable to Write my self, I am forced to make use of anothers hand, to beg with my last breath, a continuation of your kindness to me, after my Death, by giv∣ing your consent that my Children may be brought up in the place where they now live; and that you would also please to reflect how unsafe the Religion you are of, is to dye in; and think before it be too late cf your Salva∣tion. This I crave of you for the bloody Pas∣sions sake of our dear Savior.

Your poor Child, TREVOR HANMER.

At the beginning of her Letter, she seem'd pleasant and chearful, but before she came to the end of it, the sadness of the subject, had made her Heart also sad; this Letter thô short, is very expressive of her constant affection to her Fa∣ther, and concern for her Children; wherein she to move him the more to grant what she asked, made use of the most powerful Motives of our Saviors Passion, and his own Affection; which she endeavour'd to stir up, by subscribing it with her Maiden Name.

Being in this weak condition we have men∣tion'd, notwithstanding the interior and ex∣terior afflictions she suffer'd, she had not forgot, or lest off to Mortifie her self; for she still practis'd it upon her dying Body, out of too unreasonable a persuit (I know not how to term it) of self denyal, and suffering; refusing to ask that assistance which her condition requir'd, but would sometimes lye three or four hours, and very often for an hour, with that stilness and quiet, that one could not discern whether she were living or dead, unless by her breath. And all judged it to be no little pain, for one in a Feaver to live so long, without any manner of refreshment, or change of posture, which the Religious were still ready to give her; but she never askt, nay, would scarce accept of when offer'd, unless by Obedience. This render'd the Religious rather sharers in her sufferings, than inabl'd them to give her any comfort or solace in them. And from this, all that attended her were assur'd, that she treated her Body in her sickness, with no less rigor, than she did in her health; and that to her last breath, she kept in∣violably that purpose I find amongst others in her own hand.

For the love of God I will ever deny my self what∣ever is pleasing to me, thô lawful for we; and endeavour as much as Holy Obedience will permit, to do all such things for his sake, as shall be most contrary to my na∣ture. Let all Creatures love, praise, and honor, Jesus, Maria, Joseph; but let me be confounded. A brave

and Heroical resolution, in which she exprest the constancy of her Love to God, and contempt of her self. A few days before her happy Death, some of the Religious, in the presence of the Doctor, compassionated her present weakness (for her Spirits were almost exhausted, and her strength quite spent) but the Doctor Answer'd, That 'twas no wonder to see her in that condition, by reason of the many Austerities and Mortifications she had undergone, and chiefly the violent combat she had of∣ten had with Nature, of which he found evident Symp∣toms in her Body. Sister Clare hearing this, and thinking that some might infer from hence, that all her Life in Religion had been troublesome and uneasie; to remove this suspition, and to un∣deceive those that were present, especially the Doctor; call'd God to Witness these following words. I have so much content and satisfaction at pre∣sent, and always had in this State of Life, that I vo∣luntarily took upon my self, as that were I again as free to choose as ever, I would embrace This very condition and State of Life and no other. Thô this was the last, yet 'twas not the only time she had sig∣nified her satisfaction in Religion, and then also exprest a dislike to her former condition; for being asked, what mov'd her so to Mortifie her self? She Answer'd, That the Love she ow'd to God, made her esteem all she did and suffer'd as nothing, and render'd all the hardships of her present Rules most easie and pleasant; adding, That what is suffer'd even in the strictest Orders, is nothing to what many VVorldlings often suffer, even when in outward appear∣ance they seem most happy.

A few hours before she dyed, she desir'd that several Candles might be lighted, and put within her Curtains, which all wonder'd at; because she had before expressed a difficulty and unwil∣lingness to see any light. But it seems that Almighty God mov'd her to desire this faint Re∣presentation, of that Eternal Light she was going to possess: For she immediately after with a smiling Countenance declining her Head in Mother Abbesses Breast, without the least groan or sigh, gave up her pure Soul into the hands of her Creator, about Seven a Clock at Night, upon the 26th. of Ianuary; and as she had liv'd in a constant practice, so Providence would have her dye, in the bosome of Obedience; where∣fore we may truly say her Death Answer'd her Life, she lived a Saint, and so she dy'd.

The End of the Third Book.