XXXIV. A sister of the family of Penn, in Buckinghamshire, a young woman delighting in the finery and pleasures of the world, was seized with a violent illness that proved mortal to her. In the time of her sickness she fell into great distress of soul, bitterly bewailing the want of that inward peace which makes a death-bed easy to the righteous. After several days' languishing, a little consolation appeared after this manner. She was some hours in a kind of trance; she apprehended she was brought into a place where Christ was; to whom, could she but deliver her petition, she hoped to be relieved. But her endeavours increased her pain: for as she pressed to deliver it, he turned his back upon her, and would not so much as look towards her. But that which added to her sorrow, was, that she beheld others admitted: however, she gave not over importuning him. And when almost ready to faint, and her hope to sink, he turned one side of his face towards her, and reached forth his hand, and received her request: at which her troubled soul found immediate consolation. Turning to those about her, she repeats what had befallen her, adding, "Bring me my new clothes, take off the lace and finery;" and charged her relations, not to deck and adorn themselves after the manner of the world: for that the Lord Jesus, whom she had seen, appeared unto her in the likeness of a plain countryman, without any trimming or ornament whatever; and that his servants ought to be like Him. XXXV. My own father, after thirty years employment, with good success, in divers places of eminent trust and honour in his own country, upon a serious reflection, not long before his death, spoke to me in this manner: "Son William, I am weary of the world: I would not live over my days again, if I could command them with a wish: for the snares of life are greater than the fears of death. This troubles me, that I have offended a gracious God, that has followed me to this day. Oh, have a care of sin: that is the sting both of life and death. Three things I commend to you. First, Let nothing in this world tempt you to wrong your conscience; I charge you, do nothing against your conscience, so will you keep peace at home, which will be a feast to you in the day of trouble. Secondly, Whatever you design to do, lay it justly, and time it seasonably; for that gives security and dispatch. Lastly, Be not troubled at disappointments; for if they may be recovered, do it; if they cannot, trouble is vain. If you could not have helped it, be content; there is often peace and profit in submitting to Providence, for afflictions make wise. If you could have helped it, let not your trouble exceed instruction for another time: these rules will carry you with firmness and comfort through this inconstant world." At another time he inveighed against the profaneness and impiety of the age; often crying out, with an earnestness of spirit, "Woe to thee, O England! God will judge thee,