<!DOCTYPE ETS PUBLIC "-//UMDLPS//DTD EEBOPROOF 2.0//EN">
<ETS>
<TEMPHEAD>
<REVDESCR>
<CHANGE>
<DATE>1-5-10</DATE>
<RESPSTMT>
<NAME>John Latta</NAME>
<RESP>MURP</RESP>
</RESPSTMT>
<ITEM>Added TEMPHEAD, checked ID, and added TYPEs to DIVs in order to validate. Checked for N=""s. Checked for GROUP tags. Proofed title. Checked ^s. Reviewed structure; added EPIGRAPH. Checked placement and completeness of PBs; removed a PB. Checked for damage GAPs, #s, @s, oes, --s, and UNCLEARs. Corrected [dollar]s. Checked for &amp;cs with incorrect spacing. Checked for LBs. Checked for startqs and endqs, qs, abq's, Ae's, and Qs. Checked italic I / J and U / V. Check for missing page GAPs. Checked for EPIGRAPHs and ARGUMENTS. Checked proofsheets and made corrections. Checked CLOSERs, TRAILERs, SIGNEDs, OPENERs, SALUTEs, BYLINEs. Sample: 2 minutes. Proofing: 10 minutes. Tag review and corrections: 10 minutes. DONE.</ITEM>
</CHANGE>
</REVDESCR>
</TEMPHEAD>
<EEBO>
<IDG S="marc" R="UM" ID="A93536">
<STC T="W">S4624</STC>
<STC T="T">669.f.4[29]</STC>
<BIBNO T="umi">99869026</BIBNO>
<VID>160651</VID>
</IDG>
<TEXT LANG="eng">
<BODY>
<DIV1 TYPE="treatise">
<PB REF="1" MS="y">
<HEAD><HI>Some things memorably con&s;iderable in the Conditions, Life and Death of the ever ble&s;&s;ed and now eter|nally happy; M^r^i^s^.</HI> ANNE BOVVES.</HEAD>
<P>_SHe was exceedingly humble and courteous: mo&s;t loving and &s;ingle-hearted: of gentle&s;t and harmle&s;&s;e conver&s;ation: &s;incerely obedient to parents: hearty and faithfull in friend&s;hip: very ba&s;hfull and highly mode&s;t: never bold even with inwarde&s;t familiars in any either word or act that &s;he could i|magine the lea&s;t wi&s;e undecent: mo&s;t unfeinedly and readily pliant to the minde and advice of who&s;e priviledges &s;he held any relation unto: mo&s;t gratefull, ju&s;t, and remunerable: an enemie from her childhood to Idlene&s;&s;e, and &s;o be&s;towing her time as not the meane&s;t, but &s;ome of her exerci&s;es made beholding her: mo&s;t &s;ingularly cleanly of hand and per&s;on: alwayes touched with others harm, and no le&s;&s;e a right &s;en&s;ible of their welfare: eminently temperate and ab&s;tinent: full of pitty and endevour of helpfulne&s;&s;e: in the utmo&s;t of her pa&s;&s;ions (if mo&s;t rarely any &s;uch were) in&s;tantly reduceable by whom &s;he had in confidence: far from impatiencie and bitterne&s;&s;e of anger: ever mo&s;t &s;peedy in forgetting di&s;plea&s;ure: of countenance &amp; comportment mo&s;t mildly expre&s;&s;ing a right &s;ea&s;oned bo&s;ome: womanlike &s;oft in ordinary fears, but unto a danger of face and importance mo&s;t ma&s;culine and firm. Thus far is referrable to the excellency and &s;weetne&s;&s;e of her naturall di&s;po&s;ition.</P>
<P>For the Graces of God, and her &s;pirituall gifts, &s;he was for certain inwardly and ardently mo&s;t religious: &s;he was mo&s;t frequent and a&s;&s;iduous in private devotion: mo&s;t con&s;tant and chearfull in duties of pietie: a &s;evere judg of her &s;elfe: a dayly weeping and broken-hearted penitent: never &s;atisfied enough in the &s;trength of her Faith, mea&s;ure of Repentance, and &s;ufficience of Charity: &s;he bate a love, to the Hou&s;e, to the Mini&s;ters and the &s;ervants of God, mo&s;t full of reverence: &s;he never held her &s;elf no way &s;o bound as wherein &s;he conceived &s;ome furtherance to Heaven; her heart was &s;o fixed a|bove, as that even her dreams were often full of mo&s;t heavenly inexpre&s;sible comfort, and it was very ordinary to hear her pray, and mo&s;t joyou&s;ly to &s;ing whole P&s;alms in her &s;leep: her la&s;t &s;ickne&s;&s;e which was un&s;peakably full of torment, (by ince&s;&s;ant &s;harpe&s;t head-ach) and wherein for at lea&s;t 40. dayes her &s;leep was almo&s;t vvholly taken from her, was &s;o al|layed with patience, that the trouble of it reached not to any lea&s;t hou&s;hold interruption: and her prayer was continual|ly, not for the lengthening of life or a&s;&s;wagement of pain, but that it would plea&s;e God to pre&s;erve her under&s;tanding that &s;he might &s;til know to prai&s;e him to the end: never was heart nor tongue more ful of truth, for the &s;aving of life, (after her maturing in godline&s;&s;e) would not, I averre it, have co&s;t her a lie: nothing was of more horrour to her then backbitings and taxation of the ab&s;ent: and it was a bad cau&s;e or worthle&s;&s;e per&s;on that found not a relief from her when properer defence was out of place: it cannot be expre&s;&s;ed what glad&s;ome confidence &s;he had in the <HI>Mercies</HI> of God, and how &s;he clung with the armes of her &s;oul upon her dear <HI>Saviour.</HI></P>
<P>Her care was &s;o great to take trouble and &s;orrow from the friends about her, that &s;he would never yield to the behavi|ours of &s;ickne&s;&s;e, but kept her foot to the la&s;t day. Being with her Brother and his wife invited the night &s;evennight be|fore her death to &s;up with a worthy friend but a few &s;teps from her own door, hovvever her weakne&s;&s;e was utterly extream and manife&s;t, her civility and gentlene&s;&s;e yet carried her thither: and the next day being Sunday, and that &s;he prepared to Church, but was be&s;ought by a &s;ervant of tru&s;t about her to have care to her health, vvhich apparently vvas wa&s;ted to the la&s;t; no, &s;aith &s;he, &s;hall I go but la&s;t night to the hou&s;e of a friend to a &s;upper, and &s;hall I forbear this next morning to goe to the hou&s;e of my God to a &s;ermon? good God forbid it me: and yet her di&s;abledne&s;&s;e was &s;o great, that &s;hee well neer &s;wouned and fell down as &s;he went, but would not for all that be entreated to turn back. The Monday following, her bro|ther having called &s;ome friends to a dinner, where was Mu&s;ick, &s;portings and divers Chri&s;tma&s;&s;e &s;olemnities; no Brother &s;aith &s;he (being &s;till reque&s;ted to favour her &s;elf, and though her pre&s;ence were wi&s;hed, that &s;he would not yet unea&s;efully allow it) notwith&s;tanding all the&s;e di&s;cordances to my pre&s;ent ca&s;e, your company &s;hall not want of any the regards I can yield to it; it is not the faintne&s;&s;e of this body &s;hall be able to detain me from doing ob&s;ervance, where you &s;hew affection, neither (you &s;hall &s;ee) &s;hall it be in the power of &s;ickne&s;&s;e to &s;ullen my behaviour or to make me &s;u&s;pected of neglect with per&s;onages of &s;uch account to you: but through the whole cour&s;e of the day (&s;he &s;till holding out with the be&s;t fitted &s;em|blances &s;he could, even untill 12 a clock midnight) it was ea&s;ie to perceive both by the &s;tollen mooving of her eyes, and of|ten withall, by the &s;tirring of her lips, what other repa&s;ts her heart then fed upon. The third day before it plea&s;ed God to take her to his mercie, being early the morning in a little faint &s;lumber, it &s;eemed her that a white &s;heet or a large foure &s;quare linnen cloath, was let down to her by cords from heaven, the which mooving and pa&s;&s;ing divers times before her eyes, vani&s;hed away: do you know &s;aith &s;he to her brother, (unto whom and her &s;i&s;ter &s;he pre&s;ently came down a paire of &s;tairs from her chamber, relating to them as above&s;aid) what this &s;hould &s;ignifie? yea &s;aith &s;he, &s;miling and nodding her head at him, do you know brother? &amp; &s;o rejoycingly &s;he led her &s;elf into the magnifying of Gods Mercies. Some friends coming to vi&s;it her not 3 howers before her departure, &amp; beholding her as with pittie of her plight and agony; noe, &s;aith &s;he, do not &s;o (with an emboldned and rai&s;ed voice &s;he delivered it) I would have you to know that I feare not death, it is long &s;ince God hath quite dravvn my heart and mind from this world, and with that her &s;peech failed. And it is true, that as &s;he had many years before lo&s;t almo&s;t al delight and ta&s;t in worldly things, &s;o now never fle&s;h &amp; bloodle&s;&s;e feared death, or more comfortably embraced di&s;&s;olution. Recovering her &s;peech a little again, &s;he be&s;tovved it all in mo&s;t holy ejacula|tions: and as the night before &s;he had in a &s;lumber vvith more then an ordinarily clear voice &s;ung two &s;taves of a P&s;alme; awaking with the&s;e words in her mouth, <HI>Lord now lettest thou thy &s;ervant depart in peace according to thy word,</HI> &s;o the very &s;ame words about an houre before her pa&s;&s;ing were the la&s;t that &s;he was heard to utter. When her &s;ight was gone and all mo|tion began to fail, there was &s;uddenly by divers very &s;en&s;ible and di&s;creet by-&s;tanders a flickering heard again&s;t the gla&s;s of the next window to her bed, as if it were the beating of litle wings (nor otherwi&s;e could it be ghe&s;&s;ed or re&s;embled) be|ing yet then within night, when all things were quiet; at which very time, with two weak nee&s;ings and without any &s;ob or &s;hrinking whatever, her &s;oul and body took leave untill their joyfull meeting in a ble&s;&s;ed Re&s;urrection.</P>
<P>This befell unto us the 2. of <HI>January</HI> being a Saturday, in the year of Grace 1640. and in the 41. year of her age&punc;</P>
<EPIGRAPH>
<Q><L><HI>Never Fle&s;hle&s;&s;e fear'd to dye,</HI></L>
<L><HI>Nor Soul fled more cheerefully.</HI></L></Q>
</EPIGRAPH>
</DIV1>
</BODY>
</TEXT>
</EEBO>
</ETS>
