rn to
defection.----But I see, on the other side of it, the church's delivery,
with ministers and christians, that you would be ashamed to open a mouth
before them.

Among his last public days of preaching, he preached at Boulterhall in
Fife, upon that text, _Not many noble_, &c. Here he wished that all the
Lord's people, whom he had placed in stations of distinction, there and
everywhere would express their thankfulness that the words _not many_
were not _not any_, and that the whole of them were not excluded. In the
end of that sermon he said, (pointing to St. Andrews) "If that unhappy
prelate Sharp die the death of all men, God never spoke by me." The
bishop had a servant, who, upon liberty from his master on Saturday's
night, went to visit his brother, who was a servant to a gentleman near
Boulterhall (the bishop ordering him to be home on Sabbath night). He
went with the laird, and his brother that day. Mr. Welwood noticed him
with the bishop's livery on, and when sermon was ended, he desired him
to stand up, for he had somewhat to say to him. "I desire you, said he,
before all these witnesses when thou goest home, to tell thy master,
that his treachery, tyranny and wicked life are near an end, and his
death shall be both sudden, surprising, and bloody; and as he hath
thirsted after and shed the blood of the saints, he shall not go to his
grave in peace, &c." The youth went home, and at supper the bishop
asked him, If he had been at a conventicle? He said, He was. He asked,
What his text was, and what he said? The man told him several things,
and particularly the above message from Mr. Welwood. The bishop made
sport of it. But his wife said, I advise you to take more notice of
that, for I hear that these men's words are not vain words.

Shortly after this he went to Perth, and there lodged in the house of
one John Barclay. His bodily weakness increasing, he was laid aside from
serving his Master in public; and lingered under a consumptive distemper
until the beginning of April 1679, when he died. During the time of his
sickness, while he was able to speak, he laid himself out to do good to
souls. None but such as were looked upon to be friends to the persecuted
cause knew that he was in town; and his practice was, to call them in,
one family after another, at different times; and discourse to them
about their spiritual state. His conversation was both convincing,
edifying and confirming. Many came to visit him, an