8. Another time he writ thus: “I have these three weeks had a fever, with a defluxion, and an extreme weakness. My frame of mind during this condition, has been a simple adherence to the will of God. I have a heart willing and ready to receive any afflictions that can befall me. I desire whatever is decreed from above, and beg it with all my heart.”
9. In the year 1641, one of his children, whom he tenderly loved died. When the news was brought him, he spoke not one word, nor, shewed the least sign of disturbance: his affection to the child yielding to his absolute conformity with the will of God.
10. At the end of the year 1643, his lady fell desperately sick, so that she was given over by her physicians, and left speechless and without sense. This affected him in the most sensible manner; and he broke out into these words:
“I cannot deny but my nature is deeply affected with the sense of so great a loss. Yet my spirit is filled with so wonderful a joy, to see myself in such a state, as to give up, and sacrifice to my God, a thing so dear to me, that if decency did not forbid it, I would give some open testimony of my readiness thereto.” Hereby he evidenced the will of God to be so absolutely his, that he not only willed whatever God willed, but also willed it as God doth, with pleasure and satisfaction. But it pleased God to restore his lady to her health, with respect (as we may believe) to the carriage of his faithful servant.
11. From this perfect subordination to the will of God, sprung his admirable tranquillity. From this fountain flowed those rivers of peace which he possessed in so great perfection, that on the most sudden surprisals, his spirit was not altered, nor put into any disorder. So that he could say from the abundance of his heart, “I comprehend not that thing you call mortification. He who finds no resistance in his spirit to any thing, is not capable of it. Whoso willeth whatsoever God willeth, is pleased, whatsoever happens.”
12. With this Love of God was joined so deep a reverence of him, as often cast him into trembling. And this unspeakable respect unto God’s greatness caused him often to walk in the fields bare-headed, even in rain, or the heat of the sun: and being asked by a friend, what it was that kept him in that constant awe, and how he attained that wonderful reverence he bore to God at all times, in all places, in all employments, he answered, “The sight of his glorious majesty, which continually seems present by me, keeps me in exceeding awe, with a deep sense of his greatness and my own vileness. A mote in the sun is little, but I am far less in the [♦]presence of God.”
[♦] “prescence” replaced with “presence”
*13. And sure it is, that this deep sense of his own vileness, before the majesty of God, well becomes not only the greatest of sinners, but the holiest of men upon earth. He that from a valley beholds the sun when it rises, and appears on the point of a high mountain, may think him that stands above to be near it, and almost able to reach it with his hand. But the same man notwithstanding beholds it at a vast distance above his head. And though in reality, he is nearer than the other that stands in the valley, yet the proportion is so small as scarce deserves to be named, in respect to the total distance.
14. This reverence of God occasioned in him a great reverence likewise to whatsoever was devoted to him: as first to all holy places; at his entrance into a church, his demeanor was highly modest and serious. He never sat down there. He would remain in it as long as possibly he could; sometimes seven or eight hours together. If any person spoke to him in church, his answer was short; if a longer was required, he went out and gave it.
15. He had great respect, secondly, to holy persons, especially to priests, whom he highly honoured for their work sake. Whenever he met them, he saluted them with profound humility, and in his travels would alight off his horse to do it. When they visited him, he entertained them with great respect; at their going, waiting on them to the gate: And if any dined at his table, he gave them the upper hand, which civility he observed to his own chaplain.