I. Dr JOHN COLET, Dean of S. Pauls.
Out of his Life, Collected by Mr Tho: Smith of Ch: Coll: from Erasmus.

1. JOhn Coheleth in the Heb. signifies Ec­ clesiastes, the Prea­cher. Colet is that part of the ring wherein the preci­ous stone or signet is set. Thomas. in voce pala. Colet was born in London, the Son of Henry Colet (Knight, and twice Lord Major of that City) and Christian his Wife, a Matron of very rare Piety and Chri­stian Fortitude. She had 11 Sons, and as many Daughters of the same Husband: all which she saw buried, [Page 2] except John, her first born. Yet, when she was fourscore and ten years of Age, her countenance was so comely and entire, her behaviour so cheerful and pleasant, as if she had never had any sorrow or any childbearing in her life. So much strength of mind was shewen in a woman, cau­sed not by Philosophy or human learning, but by sincere piety to God and trust in Christ.

2. Nature was as indulgent to him as fortune; for he had a very proper, tall, handsom and come­ly body. In his younger daies he much addicted himself to the study of Scholastical Philosophy, exquisitely learned in the liberal Arts: All Tul­lies works were as familiar to him as his Epistles: so [...]ell read in Plato and Plotinus, that when I heard him speak, methought I heard Plato him­self: not ignorant in any part of the Mathe­maticks.

3. Being thus well principled at home (Ma­ster of Arts) he began to look abroad, and improve his stock in forein parts. In France he added to his Humanity, what he thought necessary for the study of Divinity: which then he effectually prosecuted in Italy. He studied the Fathers and Schoolmen: was well versed in both Laws: sin­gularly read in History, both Civil and Ecclesia­stical. Modern Writers also, he both read and di­ligently imitated, accommodating thereby his stile to the Pulpit, and preaching of the Gospel.

[Page 3]4. After his return from Italy, he staid not long in London, (where his Parents lived) but chose to live in Oxford; where he publickly (yet freely and without stipend) expounded S. Paul's Epistles being not full thirty years of age, yonger than▪ was by two or three months. There and then I had the happiness to come first acquainted with him. Though at that time he had neither took, nor desired any degree in Divinity; yet there was no Doctor whatsoever, either of Theo­logy or Law, no Abbot nor dignified Person in the whole University, that did not frequent and (which is more) take notes of his Lectures. Which was to be imputed either to Colet's au­thority, or their studiousness and modesty, choose you whether.

5. But before he left Oxford, they honour'd him with the Degree of Doctor: which he ac­cepted, rather to please the Givers than himself. From that University and these sacred Employ­ments, he was called back to London by the favour of K. Henry VII. who bestowed upon him the Deanry of S. Paul's: that he might be President of his Colledge, whose Epistles and learning he loved so well: (He was made both Doctor and Dean An. 1504.) Of all the Deanries in England the highest in esteem, but not of greatest value: which Colet embraced rather as a burthensom charge, than honour. And therefore, as soon as [Page 4] he had regulated his Colledge of Prebends, and raised up the antient Discipline that was fallen down, he resolved (which was not usual in those times) to preach every Holy day in his Cathedral, over and above his Sermons at Court, and many other Churches. At S. Paul's he ran over, some­times a whole Epistle, sometime, a whole Gospel, the Creed, or the Lords prayer. Wheresoever he preached, he was exceedingly followed, both by the chief Citizens and Courtiers: particularly by Sr Thomas More (afterwards Lord Chanc: of England) as appears by this following passage of his Letter: What can be more troublesom to me, than to be deprived of your sweet company? having been so long used to enjoy your most prudent counsel, to be refresht with your most pleasant societie, to be rouzed with your most grave Sermons, and bettered by your excellent example and life: in a word, in whose very countenance and gesture I was wont to be unspeakablie delighted.

6. The Dean's Table, which in former times had, under pretence of good house keeping, been too much prostitute to excesse, he reduced to frugality. For he kept himself to one meal a day many years together, both before and after his preferment: which at once cut off all his supper-guests: late Dinners not a few: and the more, because his entertainment (though neat) was neither costly nor excessive; his sitting [Page 5] short, and his whole discourse such as pleased none but those that were either learned or pious. For soon after he had said Grace, his Boy read a Chapter (distinctly and aloud) out of S. Paul's Epistles, or Solomon's Proverbs; from which he himself, for the most part, pickt the subject of that meals discourse, asking not onely Scholars, but even ordinary people, if they were ingenu­ous, what was the meaning of this or that passage: with as much satisfaction to their minds, as re­freshment to their bodies. He affected neatness in his housholdstuff, cloaths, books, meat; but not magnificence: and was so much averse from all filthinesse, that he could not endure solecisms or barbarous language. He was hugely delighted with the conference of his friends, who oft kept him till late at night: but all his conference was either of literature, or Jesus Christ. If he had no acceptable friend to chat with (for every one did not please him) his boy did read somewhat to him out of godly books. Sometimes he called me to ride abroad with him: and then he was as merry as any man alive: but a good book was al­waies his Comrade in his journey, and his talk was continually of Christ.

7. Whatsoever Revenues accrued unto him by the Church, he entirely committed to his Steward, to be distributed and spent in house­keeping. His own hereditary rents and profits [Page 6] (which were vast) he himself distributed to pious uses. For, his Father being dead, money flowed in apace from what was left him by inheritance: and lest that being kept should breed some di­sease in him, he therewith erected a stately new School in Paul's Church-yard, dedicated to the Holy Child JESUS: whereunto he joyned fair dwellings for two Schoolmasters, to whom he assigned liberal stipends, that they might teach gratis, but so as they should not admit above a certain number (viz. 153. from Jo. XXI. 11.) Above the Masters Chair, stands the Holy Child JESUS, curiously engraven, in the posture of one reading a Lecture, with this Motto, HEAR HIM; which words I advised him to set up. And all the young fry, when they come in and go out of School ( besides their appointed prayers) salute Christ with an Hymn Which you may read amongst Eras­mus's Epigr [...]s., Every Classe containeth 16. boyes, and the best Scholar of each sits in a seat somewhat more emi­nent than the rest, with the word CAPITANEUS engraven in golden letters over his head.

8. Our quicksighted Dr Colet saw very well, that the main hope and pillar of a Common­wealth consists in furnishing youth with good li­terature, and therefore did he bestow so much care and cost on this School. Though it stood him in an infinite sum of money to build and [Page 7] endow it, yet he would accept of no partner. One left indeed a Legacie of an 100 pounds sterling to the structure of it; but Colet Tam ingentes sum­tus ut satrapā quo (que) deterrer [...] possint. Eras. Ep. ded. ad Cop. Verb. which book he wrote for the benefit of Paul's School, as he wrote his book called Ec­clesiastes ( at the request of B. Fisher) for Christ's C [...]ll. and S Joh [...]s in Cambrige. thinking, that if he took it, some lay people would chal­lenge to themselves, I know not what authority over the School, did by the permission of the Bishop bestow it upon holy Vestments for the Quire. Yet, though he would suffer no lay man to have a finger in the building, he entrusted no Clergy man (not so much as the Bishop, Denn and Chapter of S. Pauls) nor any of the Nobility, with the oversight of the Revenues, but some married Citizens of honest report. When he was asked, why he would do so? he answered, That there was nothing certain in human affairs; but he found least corruption in such men.

9. As all men highly Morus in Epist. ad Col▪ Neque valde miror, [...] clariss, scho [...] t [...] r [...]m­pantur invidia. Vide [...] [...] ­nim, uti ex equ [...] Troj. pr [...] ­dierunt Graeci, q [...]i bar [...]a­ram diruêre Trojam, sic è tu [...] prodire Schola, qui ip­sorum arguunt & subver­tunt stultitiam. esteemed him for his School; so many wondred why he would build so stately an house, within the bounds of the Carthusian Monastery, not far from the Palace at Richm [...]nd: [Page 8] but he told them, That he provided that seat for himself in his old age, when he should be unfit for labours, or broken with diseases, and so constrained to retire from the society of men. There he inten­ded to philosophizc▪ with two or three eminent friends, among which he was wont to reckon me, but death prevented him. For being few years before his decease visited thrice with the sweating sicknesse (a disease which seised no Country men but English) though he recovered, yet he thereupon grew consumptive, and so dyed. He was buried in the South side of the Quire of his own Cathedral, in a lo [...] Sepulchre, which he to that end had chose for himself some years before, with this inscription, JOHN COLET.

10. Somewhat I shall adde, first of his Nature, secondly of his paradoxical Opinions, and lastly of his Afflictions, wherewith his ingenuous piety was exercised: for some whereof he might have thanked his own natural temper. For he was of a very high spirit, huge impatient of any injury, wonderfully prone to lascivioufnesse, luxury and overmuch sleep, to feasting and facetiousnesse above measure (all this he confessed to me him­self) and he was not wholly safe from covetous­nesse. But against each of these, he fought such a good fight, by Philosophy, Divine Contemplati­ons, watching, fasting and prayer, that he led the whole course of his life free from the infections [Page 9] of this world; and as far as I could any waies gather (by familiarity and much liberal converse with him) was a pure Virgin to his dyiug day. All his wealth he distributed to pious uses. He did so dayly endeavour to conquer all his passions, and subdue the haughtinesse of his mind by rea­son, that he would take it well to be admonished even by a child. Lasciviousnesse, sleep and luxury he chased away by abstaining constantly from supper, by continual sobriety, indefatigable study, and holy Conferences. But yet, when there was occasion, either to discourse with fair Ladies, or jest with witty persons, or feast with pleasant, a man might easily perceive some footsteps of his nature: which made him, for the most part, keep from the society of all lay people, but especially from banquets, to which, when he must needs come, he commonly took with him me or some learned friend, with whom he discoursed in La­tin, that he might avoid idle talk. His custom was to eat onely of one dish, to content himself with one glasse of bear or ale, or two at the most. And, though he was delighted with good wine, yet he drank very little of it, alwaies suspecting his own sanguine complexion and inclination, and being wary of all those things, by which he might offend any person whatsoever. In all my life I never saw a more happie Wit: and thence it came that he was exceedingly pleased with such Wits [Page 10] as were like himself: but at all times, when he might chuse his discourse, it was of such things as prepared him for the immortality of a life to come. And when at any time he refresht himself with pleasant stories, he did not fail to make use of his Philosophy in them. He was much pleased with the simplicity of nature in little children (to the imitation of [...]ho [...] we are called by our bles­sed Saviour) being wont to compare them to Argels.

11. Now for the second particular his Opinions, he much differed in them from the Vulgar. The Scotists (of whose acutenesse most men have an high conceit) he esteemed heavy fellows, and any thing rather than ingenuous. And yet he had a worse opinion of Thomas Aquinas than of Scotus: who, said he, if he had not been verie arrogant, would never so rashlie (and yet so magisteriallie) have presumed to define all points of religion: and if he had not savoured too much of the spirit of the world, he would not have polluted all the doctrine of Christ with so much of his own prophane Philosophie. No man was mo [...]e a friend to true Christian piety, yet he had little or no kindness for Monks, or ra­ther I should say for those who are now (for the most part falsly) so called: and therefore, while he lived, he gave them but little, and when he dyed, nothing: not that he hated their profession, but because he saw they did not live according [Page 11] to it. Yet his desire was, to have disengaged himself from the world, and betaken himself to a Monastery, if he could any where have found a Society, that was truly and unanimously resolved upon an Evangelical life. Though he lived very chastly himself, yet he had a very charitable opi­nion of those Priests and Monks, who had no other crime but venery: not that he did not heartily abhor the sin, but because he found such men far lesse mischieveous than others (if com­pared) who were haughty, envious, backbiters, hypoctites, vain, unlearned, wholly given to the getting of money and honour. And he was not more averse to any sort of men, than such Bishops, who were Wolves instead of Shepherds, and com­mended themselves by external service of God, ceremonies, benedictions and indulgences to the people, while with all their hearts they ser­ved the world: i. e. glory and gain. He was not much displeased with them, who would not have images (either painted or carved, gold or silver) worshipt in Churches: nor with them, who doubted whether a notorious wicked Priest could consecrate the Sacrament. Hereby not favouring their error, but expressing his indignation against such Clergy-men, who by an open bad life gave occasion to this suspicion. As he did much ap­prove of secret confession (professing that he never had so much comfort from any thing as that) so [Page 12] he much condemned anxiety in it, and repetiti­on. He was content to Sacrifice on Sundays and Holy daies, or some few daies beside: either to gain more time for his sacred studies, and fit himself the better for his Pulpit employments, and the businesse of his Cathedral; or, because he found that his dovotion had a greater edge, when it was sharpned with intervals: and yet, he would not condemn them who were minded to come to the Lords Table every day. Though he was a very learned man himself, yet he did not prize the vast and confused learning of such as wander among various sciences and books, saying, They got rather a learned sort of madness, than any true incentive to Christian innocence, simplicitie and cha­ritie. He dissented from innumerable opinions commonly received in the Schools: in which, he would sometimes tell his mind to his friends, but say nothing to others, lest he should incur a dou­ble inconvenience, loose his own credit, and do them no good, perhaps harm.

12. And now in the last place hear his Affli­ctions. He never agreed well with his Bishop, who (to say nothing of his manners) was a superstitious and stubborn Scotist. Neither was the Doctor ac­ceptable to most of his own Colledge, because he was very tenacious of regular discipline; and the Prebends complained, that he used them as Monks: whereas indeed that Colledge was antiently [Page 13] called East-monasterie. The old Bishop exhibited Articles against him to the Archbishop of Cant: That he said, Images were not to be worshiped, &c. But the Archbishop being well acquainted with Colet's excellencies, instead of being his Judge, became his Advocate. Then the old man strove to incense the Court against him, especially K. Henry VIII. himself: because the Doctor (when the King was raising forces against the French) had said in a Sermon: That an unjust peace was to be preferred before a most just war. Here the King (who was an excellent person in his youth) gave an evident proof of his Royal parts, exhorting the Dean privately; To go on in his preaching, freelie to tax the corrupt manners of that age, and not to withdraw his light in those most dark times; adding, That he knew very well what incensed the Bishops so highlie against him, and how much good the Dean had done by his Divine life and holie Do­ctrine to the English Church and Nation: Lastly, that he would so curb their endeavours, that it should appear to the world, Whoever troubled Colet should not escape unpunisht. Hereupon the Dean humbly thanked the King for his Royal favour, but be­seeched him not to do so; professing, That he had rather lay down his preferment, then that any should suffer for his sake. Again, upon Good-Friday, the Dean made a Sermon to the King and Courtiers, which was much admired, con­cerning [Page 14] the victorie of Christ: wherein he exhor­ted all Christians to fight under the banner of their heavenly King, and overcome, saying, That they, who either through hatred, or ambition, or co­v [...]teousness, do fight with evil men, and so kill one another, fight not under the banner of Christ, but the Divel; shewing withal. How hard a thing it is, to die like a Christian: How few go forth to battel free from hatred and covetousnesse; and how diffi­cult for such to be in charitie (without which no man shall see God) who sheath their swords in their bre­threns bowels: adding, That they should rather imi­tate their King Christ, than Pagan Caesars and Alexanders. And he had so many other smart passages to this purpose, that his Majesty was somewhat afraid, lest this Sermon would dishear­ten the Soldiers that were listed. But, when Colet came before the King, in his garden at Greenwich, the King bids him cover his head, and speak his mind freely: and then his Highness began thus, Dean, be not surprised with needlesse fears, I did not send for you hither to disturb your most holy labours, which I resolve to cherish as much as I can; but to unlode my conscience of some scruples, and to desire your advice concerning my dutie. The Conference lasted almost an hour and an half, and I must not relate it all. Only, his Majestie wisht, That what the Dean spake truly, he would speak some time or other more plainly, [Page 15] lest the rude Soldiers should misunderstand it, as if he had said, That no war is lawful among Christi­ans. So the King called for a Cup, and drank to him, embraced him most kindly, and promising him all the favours that could be expected from a most loving Prince, dismissed him; and turn­ing to the Courtiers said, Well, l [...]t other men chuse what Doctors they please, and make much of them, This man shall be my Doctor. From that day for­ward never durst his enemies trouble Colet any more: a person, that, in an high fortune and plenty, was led and governed not by his nature, but by Christ: in a word, whom I shall not doubt to reckon in the Catalog [...]e of my Saints, though he be never canonized by any Pope. Thus far Erasmus.

13. I shall onely annex a few lines collected out of Stow's Survey of London in fol. concerning his kindred. His father Sr Henrie Colet (son to Robert Colet of Wendover in Buckinghamshier, Esq.) was buried at Stepney, where his Monu­ment still remains. And the Pictures of Sr Henrie and his Dame Christian, and ten of his Sons, and ten of his Daughters, remain in the window, on the North side of St Anthonie (or Antlin) his Church near Budge-row. But he was born in the Manour of Hale in Buckingham­shire, near Wendover and Alesburie: which [Page 16] Manour our Doctor left to Pauls School, and fome of his name dwell there still. See his Monument excellently described by learned Mr Dugdale in his History of St Paul's Cathe­drall.

Ob. An. Dom. 1519. aet. 53.

II. Mr JOHN LANGLY. Master of Paul's School.
Out of his Funeral Sermon by Dr Ed: Reynolds ( now L B. of N.)

1 1. LEarning is so excellent an endowment, that the Teachers of it ought to be had in great honour. And I scarce know a greater defect in this Nation, than the want of such encouragement and maintenance as might render the Calling of a School-master so honourable, as men of great learning might be invited unto that service. Errors in the first con­coction, are not mended in the second: what is lost in the School, is hardly ever fully recovered [Page 18] in the Ʋniversitie, And by how much the fewer men of great worth and parts are imployed in that Service, by so much the more should the loss of rare and worthy men in that way be bewayled by us.

2. Great was the happinesse of this Citie in this particular, while it enjoyed this worthy man, and great the losse in being deprived of him. For though, through Gods goodness, there be many excellent men remaining, out of whom some reparation may be made of so great a da­mage; yet still I look on the departure of this man, as if the middle and most precious stone in a rich Jewel should drop out, which, though many others remain in, cannot but be greatly missed.

3. Our dear Brother was a learned man, learn­ed in the whole Body of Learning: not only an excellent Linguist and Grammarian, Historian, Cosmographer, Artist, but a most judicious Di­vine, and a great Antiquarie in the most memo­rable things of this Nation. Into whatsoever parts of the Land he travelled, he was able to refresh and to instruct his Fellow-travellers in the most remarkable particulars of every Country. Pausa­nias was not more accurate in the description of Greece, than he of England. And I have heard, that he had it sometimes in his thoughts to have published some thing in this kind. He was a man of a solid Judgment: he alwaies spake è sulco [Page 19] pectoris, and I have, not without great satisfaction, heard him give his Notions upon difficult places of Scripture, and Arguments of Divinity in ordi­dinary discourse, as if he had elaborately studied them.

4. He was able out of his full Treasurie and Storehouse of Learning, to bring fo [...]th both new and old. I never knew any learned subject spoken of in his company, wherein he was not able most dextrously to deliver his opinion. He was a man of a copious discourse, but withal so solid and judicious, as did ever delight his Auditors, never weary them. As Livie said of Cato, Natum ad id diceres, quodcunque ageret, we may say of him, Doctum in hoc uno crederes, quodcunque diceret.

5. He was a Worker as well as a Speaker; he was not a barren figtree, that had leaves without fruit; nor a tinkling Cymbal, noise without love▪ he taught by his life as well as by his learning. Verbis tantum Philosophari, non est doctoris sed histrionis, as he said: and Dicta factis deficientibus crubescunt, saith Tertullian. And indeed, he was a man of fixed and resolved honestie, and wondred in his sicknesse, what men did learn Christianitie for, if it were not in every condition to practice it, and adorn the profession of it.

6. He was a patient man: patient in his School; patient in his sufferings, willingly bearing the reproach of Christ, and not fearing the wrath of [Page 20] any man, in comparison of the reverence he did bear to his own conscience: patient in sicknesse, composing himself with as unshaken confidence to dye, as in time of health he would have gone about any other businesse.

7. He was a faithful man, most exactly answe­rable to the trust of his place: opprimi potius onere officii maluit, quam illud deponere, as once Tullie spake. It was hardly possible for any friend by any importunity to draw him from a most punctual observation of timely attendance upon the duties of his place. And so tenderly fearful was he of miscarriage herein, and so sensible of any the least defect, that in a former Sicknesse he desired, if he should then have dyed, to have been buried at the School-door, in regard he had in his ministration there come short of the duties which he owed unto the School. The fullest ears of corn bow their heads; and the most worthy men are most humble, and apprehensive of their own failings.

8. He was a constant man: punctual and im­movable from honest principles. Vir rigidae inno­centiae, as Livie said of Cato. He was of Polemo's judgment in this point, Debere in esse quandam moribus contumaciam, That men having proved all things should hold fast the best, and be perti­nacious in goodness.

9. He was a Wise man. Prudence is requisite [Page 21] to tame and calm the wild and unswaied humors of yong children. It is noted as a special piece of Socrates's Wisdom, that he did by his instruction fix and reduce the wandring and vitious inclinati­ons of Alcibiades.

10. I might go on, and instance in the Autho­rity, Gravity, Meeknesse, observable in our dear friend, but I only adde his great care of the School at his last, that there might be an able Suc­cessor chosen. The evening before he dyed, with great earnestnesse he commended it to the Com­pany by a Member thereof, who came to visit him, That they should use their uttermost wisdom and care to chuse an able, learned, religious and or­thodox man into the place; naming one, of whose fitnesse both he and the Company and School had had before great experience. And so much were they pleased to honour the judgment and integrity of this worthy man, that presently after his death they pitched upon an excellent learned man, whom he had so providently commended to them.

11. This worthy friend of mine, the Friday and Saturday before his own Fit, was pleased to visit me, lying at that time under a sore Fit of the Stone. It pleased the Lord the Monday fol­lowing to bring a Fit upon him, and sending to enquire of his condition, he sent me word hov it was with him, and that he looked on this Fit [Page 22] as a Messenger of death from God unto him. And though in obedience to Gods appointment, he made use of means, yet he still insisted upon it, that his time of dissolution was now come, and accordingly with great composednesse and resol­vednesse of spirit, waited for death, as a man doth for a loving friend, whom he is willing to embrace.

Ob. Septemb. 1657.

III. Dr THOMAS MORTON, Bishop of Duresme.
Out of his Life, Written by Dr Barwick, (now) Dean of S. Pauls.

1 HIs Coat-armour and pedigree shew him to be of the same Original and Stock, with that eminent Prelate and wise States-man John Morton, Lord Chanc: of England, and Arch-bishop of Cant: (by whose contrivance and management the two Houses of York and Lancaster were united.) But, in his great modesty and humility, he would not revive, nor so much as look upon, a very fair and large descent of his Pedigree, when it was presented to him: though he liberally rewarded the person that presented it.

[Page 24]2. The place of his birth was the antient and famous City of York: his Parents were of good note, Mr Richard Morton Mercer, and Mrs Eliz: Leedale (by whom the Valvasours and Langdales acknowledge themselves to be of his kindred:) by whose care he was brought up in pietie and learning, fir [...] at York, and afterward at Hallifax under Mr Maud: of whom he alwaies spake with great reverence, as a grave man and a good Shoolmaster. He took root in the Nursery of Hallifax till the eighteenth year of his age, be­fore he was trans-planted into the Garden of the Ʋniversity.

3. An. 1582. he was sent to Cambridge, and there admitted into S. John's Coll. wherein were so many eminent Scholars at that time, as he was wont to say, It seemed to be a whole University of it self. The Master of the Colledge was Dr Whita­ker: his first Tutor was Mr Anthony Higgon, who left him to the care of Mr Hen: Nelson, who lived to see his Pupil passe through all the other Dignities he had in the Church, till he came to be Bishop of Duresm, and a good many years after.

4. An. 1590, he took his Degree of Master of Arts, having performed all his Exercises with great approbation and applause. Afterward, for above two years, he continued his studies in the Colledge at his Fathers charge. And then, Mar [...] [Page 25] 17. 1592. he was admitted Fellow meerly for his worth against eight Competitors for the place. Which he was wont to recount with greater con­tentment to himself, than his advancement to any Dignity he ever enjoyed in the Church. About the same time he was chosen Logic Lectu­rer for the University: which place he discharged with as much Art and Diligence, as may appear by his Lectures fairly written, which I find among his papers.

5. In the same year he was admitted to the sacred Order of Deacon, and the next after, of Priesthood. Having received his Commission from God and his Church, he was very ready to assist others in the way of charity; but not too for­ward to take upon him a particular care of Souls. And accordingly we find him for about five years after this continuing in the Colledge, prosecuting his own private Study, and reading to such yong Scholars as were committed to his care and Tui­tion.

6. An. 1598. he took his Degree of Bachelor in Divinitie. And about the same year, being pre­sented, instituted and inducted to the Rectory of Long Marston, four miles distant from his native City of York, he be [...]ook himself wholly to the Cure of Souls there committed to him, which he discharged with great care and diligence: And yet he did not intermit his higher studies for [Page 26] the general good of the Church while he atten­ded it. To that end he had alwaies some Person to be his Assistant, whom he knew to be pious and learned.

7: And this assistance was the more necessary, because his great parts and worth would not suffer him to enjoy his privacy in a country-cure. For first he was made choice of by the Earl of Hun­tington, then Lord President of the North, to be his Chaplain, for his dexterity and acutenesse in disputing with the Romish Recusants: for it was Queen Elizabeth's expresse command to him to convince them by Arguments, rather than sup­presse them by force: and this she expressed (as his Lordshop was wont to say) in the words of the Prophet, Nolo mortem peccatoris.

8. But the Earl dying presently after, he re­turned again to his privacy at Marston: where he continued not long, before the Lord Sheffield (who succeeded as Lord President) commanded him to hold a publick Conference before his Lord­ship, and the Council at the Mannor house in York with two Romish Recusants, then prisoners in the Castle; which he performed with great satisfaction to the Auditory, among whom were many of the chief Gentry and Clergy of York­shire.

9, An. 1602, began the great plague at York: at which time he carried himself with much [Page 27] Heroical Charitie. For, the poorer sort being re­mov'd to the Pes [...]house, he made it his frequent exercise to visit them with food, both for their bodies and souls. His chief errand was to instruct and comfort them, to pray for them and with them; and to make his coming the more accep­table, he carried usually a sack of provision with him, for those that wanted it. And because he would have no man run any hazard thereby but himself, he seldom suffered any of his servants to come near him, but sadled and unsadled his own horse, and had a private door made on purpose into his house and chamber.

10. An. 1603. he attended the Queens Em­bassador into Germany, being desirous to improve himself by seeing forein Kingdoms, Churches and Universities. His stay in those parts was the shorter because the Embassadors Commission de­termined at the death of the Queen. But how­ever he improved his time so well, partly in fur­nishing his own Librarie with books at Frankfurt and elsewhere, but chiefly in his conversation with learned men, and in his forein Observations, that he alwaies very highly valued that opportunity.

11. At his return he was sollicited by Roger Earl of Rutland to be his domestical Chaplain. Which proffer he was the more willing to accept, for the privacy he hoped to enjoy in a place where he was not know, for making use of that [Page 28] Treasure of Books, he had got in his travels: And the rather, because thereby he was brought so much nearer London than before, whither he must have many occasions to go, for the putting forth of such Books, as he had in design to write. For it was not long after that he printed his first part of his Apologia Catholica. About which time, the Archbishop of York, Toby Matthews (that most exquisite preacher) conferred upon him a Prebend in that Metropolitical Church.

12. An. 1606. He took the Degree of Doctor in Divinitie with the great Approbation of both the professors in Divinity, Dr John Overal, that profound Scholar, and Dr Tho: Playfer that acute Disputant and accurate Preacher, who were both of them very competent Judges of mens abili­ties. And there began that intimate acquaintance he had with the said Dr Overal (afterwards Dean of S. Paul's, Bishop of Lichfield and Coventry, and lastly of Norwich) which continued between them till it was dissolved by death. And about the same time he was sworn Chaplain in Ordinary to K. James, and by him made Dean of Gloucester, and assumed by the Lord President of Wales for one of his Majesties Council for the Marches. In his first journy to Gloucester he went by Oxford at the Act time: where he was incorporated and admitted to the same Degree he had in Cambridg: where also he was much taken with the exercises [Page 29] of Mr Dan. Featly, then a proceeder, and carried great friendship to him ever after. At which time (among other eminent Persons) he fell into acquaintance with that famous Dr John King, then Dean of Ch. Ch. afterwards Bishop of Lon­don, which afterwards grew so intimate, that the Bishop made choice of him to perform the last offices to him both at his death and burial.

13. An. 1609. he succeeded Dr George Abbot in the Deanry of Winchester. There Bishop Bilson conserred on him the Rectorie of Alesford; and there (among other learned men whose friendship he much valued) he had intimate acquaintance with Dr Arthur Lake, then Master of St Cross. In the next year, a Parliament being held, he preached the Sermon to the Convocation, upon Matth: 5. 13. Vos estis sal terrae, with general applause, and should have been Prolocutor, but in modesty declined it, and preferred a friend of his. In his abode at London, he took his lodging at Dean Overal's: who gave him the opportunity of a very early acquaintance with the learned Isaac Casaubon, then newly come out of France, andentertained by the Dean. The love thus begun was never intermitted in their lives, nor oblite­rated by death, as appears by Casaubon's Monu­ment at Westminster Abby, set up at the charge of Morton. About the same time he had the oppor­tunity of entring into a very good acquaintance [Page 30] with several other eminent forein Scholars and Divines: as namely, Scultetus, Diodati, Du Moulin, whose worth is very well known by their learned works in print.

14. While he continued in Winchester, a cer­tain great person passionately told the King, That Dr Morton had spoiled one of the best Deanries in England. It concerned the Dean to vindicate his good name from that foul and unjust aspersion. And therefore acquainting his Brethren of the Chapter with it, they were very forward to give, and he not backward to receive a Testimonial from them under their hands and seals, That he had been one of the best Deans that ever had been at Winchester in their times: and some of them were very antient.

15. An. 1616. July 7. he was consecrated Bishop of Chester. While necessaries were prepa­ring for his journy thither, and for the accom­modation of his Palace there, he retired himself to Clay-Hall in Essex, upon the earnest invitation of his Noble friend Sr Christopher Hatton, and there fell sick of a dangerous Fever, but being happily recovered, presently put himself upon his journy towards his great work, and was met on the borders of his Diocess and brought into the City of Chester by such a great number of Knights and other the best Gent: of the Country, beside the Clergy, as may give a lasting testimo­ny, [Page 31] to their honour as well as his, in shewing such a religious respect to their Bishop.

16. When he was setled there, he found all the inconveniences which he fore saw, (and which made him at first loth to undertake that weighty Office) and some also which he could not foresee at so great a distance. For, beside the great num­ber of Romish Recusants, which hath alwaies been observed in this Diocess, he found another sort of Recusants (better known by the name of Non­conformists) who, though they were not so many in number as the other, yet had they so much perversenesse and obstinacy in them, as made them equal, or rather superiour, in relation to the trouble he had with them. For the reducing of them to their obedience to the Church, he used no lesse fatherly mildnesse then strength of Argument: and after he had endeavoured their satisfaction in a publick Conference with them about the use of the Surplice, &c. he printed a Relation thereof with some enlargements, inti­tuled, The defence of the three innocent Ceremonies. But in reducing the other party, the Popish Recusants, God blessed him with far better suc­cesse, to the great content of his Majestie.

17. An. 1617. at the Kings return out of Scotland through Lancashire, his Majestie was petitioned about some innocent Recreation for servants, and other inferiour persons, on the [Page 32] Lords day and Holy daies, whose laborious Cal­lings deprived them of it all other times. The King consulted with the Bishop how he might satisfie their desires without endangering this libertie to be turned into lasciviousnesse. Where­upon the Bishop presented to the King in wri­ting the next day (Bishop Andre [...]es attended the King the same time) several limitations or restrictions, which the King so well approved that he said, He would only alter them from ohe words of a Bishop to the words of a King: viz. That all known Recusants, and all that are not present at Church at the Service of God shall be barred from the benefit of this liberty: That these Recreations shall not be used before the end of all divine services for that day: That every person should resort to his own parish Church, &c. The Declaration was published May 24. in the 16. of his Raign: and since republished by our late Gracious Soverain, K. Charles 1. The good Bishop, to maintain his hospitality in that place, where good house­keeping is so much valued and practised, had the Rectorie of Stopford in Commendam, bestowed on him by the King, where his name and memory is still pretious.

18. An. 1618. Mar. 6. At the motion of that great pattern of Episcopal perfection, Dr An­drewes above mentioned, then Bishop of Eli (who was never known to do the like for any [Page 33] other, and yet did this without his seeking or knowledge, that he might have him his nearer neighbour, as he said, and of the same Province with himself:) He was translated to the See of Coventry and Lichfield, void by the Translation of his old friend Bishop Overal to Norwich. And here his trouble was not so great as at Che­ster, though his Diocess was longer: because the common sort of people, for the most part, were better principled by the care and vigilance of his Predecessor. But yet he abated nothing of his former pains and industry, both in Writing, Preaching and conferring with those that were not wilfully obstinate: besides his ordinary Visiting his Diocess, and Confirming such children as could give an Account of their Faith.

19. Among the works of Charitie performed by this Bishop, while he was of that See, memo­rable is the Education he bestowed upon one George Canner, (who like another Didymus of Alexandria, or Fisher of Wewminster was born blind:) This youth he brought up first at School, and afterwards sent him to Cambrigde, where he maintained him, and his Unkle to look to him, in S. John's Coll. After he had taken the Degree of Bachelor of Arts, he sent for him into his own Family, and there instructed him in the whole Body of Divinitie; then admitted him in­to sacred Orders, placed him in a Cure in Stafford­shire. [Page 34] Which Cure the blind man discharged di­ligently and laudably, being a very good preacher, and able also to perform the whole Office of the Church, as it is prescribed in the Book of Common prayer, only by the strength of his admirable Memory.

20. Memorable also is that passage of the Boy of Bilson near Woolverhampton, who being wrought upon by some Bomish Priests, counter­feited himself to be possessed with a Divel. But the Divel having steeled his heart (as his own phrase was after his confession) he continued Demoniac longer than was intended, and accused a neighboring woman, of the Romish Commu­nion, for bewitching him, so cunningly prosecu­ting the charge, as the woman hardly escaped. The Bishop suspecting the Boy did but counterfeit, got leave of the Judges to have the Boy home with him: where, by his wisdom and great pains he discovered the imposture; and afterwards, upon the Boyes Confession and Repentance, bound him out an Apprentice to a Shomaker in Bristol.

21. An. 1632. He was translated to the See of Duresm (void by the death of Bishop Howson) a place of greater trust and honour, as well as of greater emolument. For, besides the Spiritual and Ecclesiastical Affairs (as before) he had now the care and management of all the tnmporal [Page 35] Affairs within the County Palatine of Duresm, by virtue of the Palatinate, which for many hundreds of years hath been annexed to the Episcopal See: in so much as it passed for a Maxim there: Quic quid potest Rex extra Episco­patum, potest Episcopus intra: And yet in the same he carried himself with so much justice and equity for ten years together before these late Troubles put a disturbance in the exercise of his Government, that no complaint was ever made against him to the Parliament: except only the case of Mr Smart, which yet had no relation to the County Palatine, neither could the charge be made good against him.

22. Some Rules which he set unto his Govern­ment were these. First, for his Fines at the re­newing of Leases, he never intermeddled in setting them himself, but referred the businesse to four Gentlemen of the neighbourhood, to make a moderate composition between him and his Tenants. 2. In wreks, he took such a small sum of the persons that had suffered them, as was not worthy the name of a Composition; and that only to preserve the right of his place. 3. In Deodans, where any man had made himself away; though by law the who [...]e estate was confiscated in detestationem criminis, yet exceeded he not a fourth part of the estate after the most moderate Valuation. And lastly, for Wardships, he used [Page 36] that tenderness, as never any of the Gentry had wrong in their Minority.

23. How much greater his Fatherly care was, for the Spiritual affairs of the Bishoprick, will appear by his pious indeavours in setling com­petent Augmentations upon the smaller Benefices He had given a good example long before, whiles he was Bishop of Lichfield, in abating a good part of his Fine, to increase the portion of the Vicar of Pichley in Northamptonshire. And now in a work of so much importance, he applied himself for Counsel to three of the most learned in the Laws, Lo. Keeper Coventry, Mr Noy, Sr Henry Martin, who all concurred, That the Bishops Authoritie over Churches appropriate was neither taken away, nor any way infringed, but that he may now appoint a competent Augmentation, &c. See the Author.

24. Having thus fully informed himself of his just parts in a matter of so high Concernment for the advancement of Christian Religion, and the good of Souls, he resolved to put it in practice, as far as God should enable him, and trust God with the event. He began at home with the Parish of Bishop-Aukland. Here he augmented the stipend of the Mother-Church from sixteen pounds per an: to fourscore, and the Chapels be­longing to it from about six pounds per an. to thirty; intending to extend the like Episcopal [Page 37] care in some proportion over all the rest of his Diocess: But so pious heroical a work became a­bortive by the Scotch Invasion, &c.

25. We are come now to the precipice of this Reverend Bishop's outward splendor: though neither his Glory nor Happinesse incurred the least diminution by his future suffrings. For he was never more happy in his own thoughts, nor more glorious in the eyes of all good men, then in being exercised in those troubles, whereof the continual series of publick affairs afforded him a perpetual oportunity from this time till his death.

26. In one of the tumults after the beginning of the long Parliament, this Reverend Bishop was in extreme hazard of his life by the multi­tude that were beckned thither by the contrivers of our late miseries: whereof some cryed, Pull him out of his Coach: Others, Nay, he is a good man: Others, But for all that he is a Bishop. And he hath often said, He believed he should not have escaped alive, if a leading man among that rabble had not cryed out, Let him go and hang himself. Upon this and the like violations of the liberty and freedom essential to all the Members of Parliament, when the Twelve Bishops (whereof this was one) remonstrated the just fears they were in, and Protested their dissent from all Laws which should be enacted, till they might attend [Page 38] service of the House with freedom and saftey, They were all charged with high Treason by the House of Commons, and committed to Pri­son, &c.

27. Our Bishop being (after four months) discharged from this his first imprisonment, re­turned to his lodgings in Duresm House, and there attended his devotions and study, till such time as his Adversaries thought fit to give him another occasion to exercise his patience under a second Captivity, upon occasion of baptising a Child of the Earl of Rutland's according to the Order of the Church. And in custody he remain­ed six months before he could obtain his enlarge­ment. After this he remained in Duresm house till he was thrown out thence by the soldiers, that came to Garrison it, a little before that hor­rid fact was committed upon the person of our late Gracious King: and after that, being impor­tuned by his honorable friends the Earl and Countess Rutland, he became a part of their care and family at Exe [...]er-house for some short time. But being loth to live at the charge of others, while he was able to subsist of himself, and think­ing the air of the Country might better suit with his declining years, he betook himself to sojourn first with Captain Saunders in Hartfordshire, and after with Mr Tho. Rotheram in Bedfordshire, till by the great civility and earnest importunity of [Page 39] that Noble young Baronet, Sr Henry Yelverton, he went with him to his house at Easton-Manduit in Northampton-shire, where he found all the tender respect and care from the whole family, which a Father could exspect from his children, till after some four months he rendred up his happy soul into the hands of his Heavenly Father.

28. When the House of Commons had voted for the dissolving of Bishopricks, and selling the lands that belonged to them, some prevailed for another Vote of Yearly Allowance to present Bishops during their lives. Our Bishop had 800l per an. voted to him: but, while he was able to subsist without it, never troubled himself to look after it. And at last, pressed by necessities, having procured a Copy of the Vote, found it to contain no more than only that such a sum should be paid, but no mention either by whom or whence. And by that time he could procure an explanation of the Order to make the Pension payable out of the Revenues of his own Bishoprick, all the Lands and Revenues of it were sold or divided among themselves. Only, by the importunity of his friends he obtained an Order to have 1000l out of their Treasury at Gold-smiths Hall, with which he paid his debts and purchased to him­self an Annuity of 200l per an. during his life, upon which he subsisted ever since.

29. No man can expect any considerable Le­gacies [Page 40] in the Will of a person deceased, who made his own hands his Executors, while he lived: like his great kinsman Arch-bishop Morton, who chose rather to inrich his kindred and servants in his life time, then at his death: or rather, like Arch-bishop Warham, successor to Morton, who lying on his death bed, called for his Steward to let him know what money he had, and under­standing from him, it was but thirty pound, thanked God for it, and said, He never desired to dye richer. Our Bishop had so much left him at his death, that he gave 40l to one of his servants who then attended him (having provided for the other formerly) and 10l to the poor of the Parish, and his Chalice with a Patin double guilt to the Noble Baronet for the use of his Chapel. The rest (deducing some small remembrances) he ordered for his burial, which was also sufficient for a Mo­nument, though far below his worth, yet sutable to his great Modesty.

30. I cannot omit the chief Legacy of his Will for the common good of souls in the Church of England, particularly in his own Diocess (See it in the Funeral Sermon) where he concludes thus My earnest exhortation to them is, that they would still continue their former Affections (notwithstanding all temptations to the contrary) both to the Doctrine, Discipline, Government, and Form of Worship in this poor afflicted Church: Which, if I did not be­lieve [Page 41] to be the securest way for the salvation of souls, I had not ventured my own upon the same bottom.

31. His high esteem of the sacred Liturgie of the Church of England attended him (as I may say) to his Grave. For he gave expresse command to his Chaplain, not to omit, nor so much as transpose (as he had observed too frequently to be done by others) the reading of the Lesson (1 Cor: 15.) which the Church hath prescribed to be read at the Grave: and which being read there, while such a spectacle of mortality is be­fore their eyes, could not (said he) but have a greater influence upon their souls, than any Fu­neral Sermon he had ever heard preached. Great fervor and devotion he shewed in the Church­prayers: whereunto he seldom answered with a single Amen; and at which duty he never kneeled upon a Cushion (I think) in all his life, nor ever prayed but upon his knees, till he was confined to his death bed: and even would never ly with his Cap on his head, if he either prayed himself, or any other prayed by him, while he had strength to pull it off with his own hands. Great consola­tion he took in the Church-preparations for his long home: viz. in the profession of his faith and Charitie and Repentance, in receiving the benefit of Absolution, and the Viaticum of the Holy Eucharist.

32. He lived a great number of years, and [Page 42] very few ever husbanded their time better; for he was never idle with his good will. He was often up at his devotion and study before four a clock, even after he had lived above fourscore years, and yet very seldom went to bed till after ten; and then had alwaies a servant to read some book to him, till such time as sleep did surprize him: and so had he alwaies when he travelled in his Coach, that his jouny mighr not be too great a hinderance to his study. He used to lye on a straw bed till he was above fourscore.

33. He led his life in a holy and chast celibate. The issue of his brain was numerous, (beside M. SS.) above twenty several Volumes in print: some of which are these that follow: Apologia Cath. p. 1. pars 2. The Catholick Appeal. Causa Regia. The Grand Imposture, and proofs. Sermons. Confessions out of forein Divines for Bishops. Gods Providence: the last book he lived to publish, a fit Meditation for his declining years in those sad Times.

34. To add somewhat of his Character. 1. His patience. In the greatest tryal of his temper that ever he had, the news of the Vote, that the Re­venues of the Church were to be sold, he only said: The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; Blessed be the name of the Lord: Which he repeated three times over before the compa­ny he was in, and presently retired himself to [Page 43] his prayers: 2. His Hospitality. He entertained the King and his Court, and (at least the Officers of) his Army, all at one time in the first expedi­tion toward Scotland, which cost him (in that place of great cheapnesse) above 1500l in one day. There seldome came any Scholar to him, whether Forein or English, whom he did not liberally entertain, and dismisse with a conside­rable sum of mony. 3. His Beneficence. He built a Free School at Bishop Aukland, and endowed it with 24l per au: which is more by so much than ever he purchased to himself, for that was just nothing. He gave many excellent books to the Colledge where he had his Educa­tion, to the value of 4 or 500l, with an intention at last to bestow 100l per an. during his life (had not the times disabled him) to buy books of special worth and not for supersluity. 4. His Almsgiving. While he was sufferd to enjoy his estate, he had his Beadsmen in Livery at a constant Table, be­sides what he gave away at his Gate, and upon other occasions. Nay, so constant was he in this duty, even then when he had hardly so much left as to afford bread for his own mouth, that he had alwaies a certain number of poor impo­tent persons in a constant pension, that came weekly to him for their allowance, when he was not able himself to go among them to give it: and this will be abundantly testified by the poor [Page 44] in all places, where of late he hath lived. 5. His Devotion. He would often forgo, ot at least much moderate, his one meal a day; often deny himself some part of that pittance of time al­lowed for sleep, to rise out of his bed, and to spend in prayer, as the Attendants in his Cham­ber witnesse. [See the rest in the reverend Author of his Life and of his Funeral Sermon.]

Ex Epitaphio.

Nullo non d [...]gnus Elogio,

Eo vero dignior, quod nuilo se dignum aestimaverit.

IV. M. GEORGE HEREBRT. (Vide Vol. 1.)
Out of his Life before his REMAINS.

1. MR George Herbert was extracted out of a Generous, Noble and Antient Family, His Father was Richard Herbert of Blachehall in Montgomery, Esq: de­scended from the great Sr Richard Herbert in Edward the IV's time; and so his Relation to the Noble Family of that Name, well known. His Mother was daughter of Sr Richard Newport of Arcoll: who doubtlesse was a pious daughter, she was so good and godly a Mother. She had ten Children, Job's number and Job's distinction, seven sons. For whose Education she went and [Page 46] dwelt in the Ʋniversitie, to recompence the losse of their Father, in giving them two Mothers. And this great care of hers, this good Son of hers studyed to improve and requite, as is seen in those many Latin and Greek Verses, the Ob­sequious Parentalia he made and printed, in her Memorie: Which, though they be good, very good, yet (to speak freely of this man I so much honour) they be dull or dead in comparison of his Temple Poems. And no marvel: To write those, he made his Ink with water of Helicon, but these Inspirations Prophetical were distilled from above: In those are weak Notions of Nature; in these raptures of Grace: In those he writ flesh and blood, a frail earthly woman, though a Mother, but in these he praised his Heavenly Father.

2. He did thrive so well in Cambridge in Tri­nitie Coll: that he was first chosen Fellow there, and afterwards Orator of the University. The Memorials of him left in the Orators book, shew how he discharged the place: and himself inti­mates, Church p. 39. That whereas his Birth and Spirit prompted him to Martial Atchievements, The way that takes the Town, and not to sit simpe­ring over a Book; God did often melt his spirit, and entice him with Academick honour, to be content to wear and wrap up himself in a Gown, so long, till he durst not put it off, nor retire to [Page 47] any other Calling. However, probably he might, I have heard, (as other Orators) have had a Se­cretary of States place, being one of the most prudent and accomplisht men of his time. I have heard sober men censure him as a man that did not manage his brave parts to his best advantage and preferment, but lost himself in an humble way: That was the phrase, I well remember it.

3. This good man like a good genuine son of Levi (I had like to have said Melchizedek) balked all secular waies, saw neither Father nor Mother, Child nor Brother, birth nor friends (save in Christ Jesus) chose the Lord for his Por­tion, and his service for imployment. And he knew full well what he did, when he received holy Orders, as appears by every page of his Coun­try Parson, and by the Poems called Priesthood, and Aaron, and by his unparallel'd Vigilancy, which he used ever in his Parish: which made him a Peer to the Primitive Saints, and more than a Pattern to his own age.

4. Besides his Parsonage of Bemmerton in Wiltshire, he had also a Prebend in the Church of Lincoln. Which (I think) because he lived far from, and so could not attend the duty of that place, he would fain have resigned to Mr Ferrer, and often earnestly sued to him to discharge him of it. But Mr Ferrer wholly refused, and diverted or directed his charity (as I take it) to the re­edefying [Page 48] of the ruin'd Church of Leighton, where the Corps of the Prebend lay. So that the Church of England owes to him (besides what good may come by his book of the Country Parson towards the repair of us Churchmen in point of Morals) the Reparation of a Church material, and erection of that costly peece of Mosaic or Solomonic work, The Temple: which florishes and stands inviolate, when our other Magnificences are desolate and despised.

5. He was of a singular sincerity in embracing, and transcendent dexterity in defending the Pro­testant Religion established in the Church of England. He that reads Mr Herbert's Poems at­tendingly, shall find not only the excellencies of Scripture-Divinity, and choice Passages of the Fathers bound up in Meeter, but the Doctrine of Rome also finely and strongly confuted: as in the Poems, To Saints and Angels, p. 69. The Bri­tish Church, 102. Church militant, &c.

6. As for our Brethren that erred on the right hand, his chief aim was, to win those that disli­ked our Liturgie, Catechism, &c, by the constant, reverent, and holy use of them. Which, surely, had we all imitated, having first imprinted the virtue of these prayers in our own hearts, and then studied with passiona [...]e and affectionate ce­lebration, for voice, gesture, &c. as in Gods pre­sence to imprint them in the minds of the people, [Page 49] our prayers had been generally as well beloved as they were scorned.

7. There is one thing yet, which I admire above all the rest. The right managing of the fraternal Duty of Reproof is (methinks) one of the most difficult Offices of Christian Prudence. He had not only got the courage to do this, but the art of doing this aright. There was not a man in his way, be he of what rank he would, that spoke aw [...]y in order to God, but he wip'd his mouth with a modest, grave and Christian reproof. His singular dexterity in sweetning this art, thou maist see in the guarb and phrase of his writings. Like a wise Master-builder, he has fet about a form of speech, transferred it in a figure, as if he was alwaies learning from another mans mouth or pen, and not racking any. And whereas we all of us deserved the sharpnesse of reproof, he saith, He does this, and He does that: whereas, poor men, we did no such thing. This dart of his, thus dipped, pierces the Soul.

8. His Art of Divine Poetry, and other polite learning, so commen [...]ed him to Persons most eminent in their time, that Dr Donne inscribed to him a paper of Latin Verses in pring: and the Lord Bacon having transhred some Psalms into English Meeter, sent them with a Dedication prefixed, To his very good Friend, Mr George Herbert: thinking, he had kept a true decorum [Page 50] in chusing one so fit for the Argument, in respect of Divinity and Poetry (the one as the matter, the other as the stile) that a better choice he could not make.

9. I shall omit several excellencies of this Person: His conscientious expence of Time; which he ever measured by the Pulse, that native watch God has set in every of us: his eminent Temperance and Frugality (the two best Purveyors for his Liberalitie and Beneficence:) his private fastings, his mortification of the body; his ex­temporary Exercises thereof, at the sight or visit of a Charnel-house, (where every bone, before the day, rises up in judgment against fleshly lust and pride:) at the stroke of a passing-bell, when antient Charity used (said he) to run to Church and assist the dying Christian with prayers and tears (for sure that was the ground of that cu­stome:) and at all occasions he could lay hold of possibly; which he sought with the diligence that others shun and shift them; besides his care­full, not scrupulous Observation of appointed Fasts, Lents and Embers. The neglect and de­fect of this last (he said) had such influx on the Children which the Fathers of the Church did beget at such time, as malignant stars are said to have over natural productions.

10. With Fasting he impt his prayers both private and publick. His private must be left to [Page 51] God, who saw them in secret: his publick were the morning and evening Sacrifice of the Church Liturgie. Which he used with conscien­tious Devotion, not of Custom, but serious judgment, knowing, 1. That the Sophism used to make people hate them, was a solid reason to make men of understanding love them: namely, Because taken out of the Masse-book: taken out, but as gold from drosse, the precious from the vile, The wise Reformers knew Rome would cry, Schism, Schism! and therefore they kept all they could lawfully keep, being loth to give offence (as our blessed Saviour, being loth to offend the Jews at the great Reformation, kept divers old Elements, and made them new Sicrament and Services, as their frequent Washings he turned into one baptism, some service of the Passover into the Lord's Supper:) 2. That the homelinesse and ccursenesse, which also was objected, was a a great commendation. The poor Lambs of the flock are forty for one grounded Christian; pro­portionable must be the care of the Church to provide milk: i. e. plain and easie nourishment for them: and so had our Church done, hoping that stronger Christians, as they abounded in gifts, so they had such a store of the grace of charity, as for their weak Brethrens sakes to be content therewith.

11. He thought also, that a set Liturgie was of [Page 52] great use in respect of those without, whether erring Christians, or unbelieving men: that when we had used our best Arguments against their er­rors or unbelief, we might shew them a Form, wherein we did, and desired they would, serve Almighty God with us: that we might be able to say, This is our Church, Here would we land you: Thus we belive, See the Creed; Thus we pray, bap­tize, Catechise, Celebrate the Eucharist, Marry, Bury, Intreat the Sick, &c. These, beside Unitie, and other accessary benefits, he thought ground sufficient to bear him out in his practice▪ wherein he ended his life, calling for the Church-prayers, a while before his death, saying, None to them, None to them! at once both commending them, and his Soul to God in them, immediately before his dissolution; as some Martyrs did, Mr Hulliar by name, Vicar of Babram, burnt to death in Cambridge. Who having the Common-prayer book in his hand, instead of a Censer, and using the prayers as Incense, offerd up himself as a whole burnt Sacrifice to God. With whom the very Book it self suffered Martyrdome; when fal­len out of his consumed hands, it was, by the Executioners, thrown into the fire, and burnt as an heretical book.

12. He was, moreover, so great a lover of Church-Musick, that he usually called it, Heaven upon earth, and attended it a few daies before his [Page 53] death. But above all, his chief delight was in the Holy Scripture: One leaf whereof, he professed, he would not part with, though he might have the whole world in exchange. This high esteem of the Word of Life, as it wrought in himself a wondrous expression of high Reverence, when ever he ei­ther read it himself, or heard others read it; so it made him equally wonder, that those who pretended such extraordinary love to Christ Jesus, as many did, could possibly give such leave and liberty to themselves, as to hear that Word, that shall judge us at the last day, without any the least expression of that holy fear and trembling, which they ought to charge upon their Souls in private, and in publick to imprint upon others.

13. I have not so much as with one dash of a pencil offered to describe that person of his, which afforded so unusual a Contesseration of Elegancies, and Set of rarities to the beholder: nor said I any thing of his personal Relation, as a Husband to a loving and virtuous Lady, as a Kinsman, Ma­ster, &c. Yet will I not silence his spiritual love and care of Servants, teaching Masters this duty; To allow their servants dayly time wherein to pray privately, and to enjoyn them to do it; holding this for true generally: That publick prayer alone to such persons, is no prayer at all.

14. I have given thee only these lineaments [Page 54] of his mind, and thou mayest fully serve thy self of his book, The Country-Parson, in what vertue of his thy soul longeth after. His practice it was, and his Character it is: His, as Author; and his, as Object. Yet, lo, the Humilitie of this gra­cious man! He had small esteem of this book, and but very little of his Poems. Though God had magnifyed him with extraordinary Gifts, yet said he, God hath broken into my study, and taken off my Chariot wheels: I have nothing worthy of God: And even this lowlinesse in his own eyes, doth more advance their worth, and his Virtues.

[ Here, my Reader, give me leave to propose to thy view some lines of that excellent Figure, The Country Parson, written by the Author 1632. printed 1652. which book I read with joy that we have any such, and with grief that we have no more.]

1. The Country Parson is exceeding exact in his life, being holy, just, prudent, temperate, bold, grave in all his waies. And because the two highest points of life, wherein a Christian is most seen, are Patience and Mortification: Pa­tience in regard of Afflictions, Mortification in regard of lusts and affections, and the stupifying and deading of all the clamorous powers of the soul, therefore he hath throughly studied these, [Page 55] that he may be an absolute master and commander of himself for all the purposes which God hath ordained him. Yet in these points he labours most in those things which are most apt to scan­dalize his Parish.

2. He is full of all knowledge. They say it is an ill Mason that refuseth any stone: and there is no knowledge, but in askilful hand serves ei­ther positively as it is, or else to illustrate some other knowledge. He condiscends even to the knowledge of tillage and pastorage, and makes great use of them in teaching; because people, by what they understand, are best led to what they understand not. But the chief and top of his knowledge consists in the book of books, the storehouse and magazene of life and comfort, the holy Scriptures. There he sucks, and lives. There he finds four things: Precepts for life, Doctrines for knowledg, Examples for illustrati­on, and promises for comforts: These he hath dige­sted severally. And for the understanding of these, the means he useth are, a holy life, prayer, &c.

3. He hath read the Fathers also, and the Schoolmen, and the later Writers, or a good proportion of all: out of all which he hath com­posed a book, and Body of Divinity, which is the storehouse of his Sermons, and which he preacheth all his lifc; but diversly clothed, illustrated and enlarged. For, though the world is full of such [Page 56] yet every mans own is fitrest, readiest, and most favoury to him. Besides, this being to be done in his yonger and preparatory times, it is an honest joy ever after to look upon his well-spert hours. This Body he made by way of expound­ing the Church-Catechism, to which all Divinity m [...]y easily be reduced. For it being indifferent in it self to choose any method, that is best to be chosen, of which there is likeliest to be most use.

4. When he is to read Divine Services, he composeth himself to all possible Reverence, as being truly touched with the Majesty of God, and that being first affected himself he may affect also his people; kno [...]ing, that no Sermon moves them so much to a reverence, which they forget again when they come to pray, as a devout beha­viour in the very act of praying. Accordingly, his voice is humble, his words treatable, and slow; yet not so slo [...] neither, as to let the fervency of the supplicant hang and dye between speaking; but with a more liveliness between fear and [...], pauzing yet pressing, he per­forms his duty. Besides his example, he having often instructed his people how to carry them­selves in Divine Service, exacts of them all possi­ble reverence, by no means enduring either talk­ing, or sleeping, or gazing, or leaning, or half­kneeling, or any undutiful behaviour in them; but causing them, when they sit, or stand, of [Page 57] kneel, to do all in a strait and steady posture, as attending to what is done in the Church; and every one, man and child answering aloud both Amen, and all other answers on the peoples parts, using their reason, and applying their powers to the Service of God.

5. He preacheth constantly: the Pulpit is his joy and his Throne. If he at any time intermit, it is either for want of health, or against some great Festival, that he may the better celebrate it; or for the variety of the hearers, that he may be heard, at his return more attentively. When he intermits, he is ever well supplyed by some able man, who treads in his steps, and will not throw down what he hath built; whom also he intreats to presse some point, that he himself hath often urged with no great successe, that so in the mouth of two or three witnesses the truth may be the more established. When he preach­eth, he procures attention with all possible art, both by earnestness of speech (it being natural for men to think, that where is much earnestness, there is something worth hearing) and by a dili­gent and busie cast of his eye on his Auditors, with letting them know, that he observes who marks, and who not; and with particularizing of his speech, now to the younger sort, then to the elder, now to the poor, and now to the rich. This is for you, and This is for you: for particu­lars [Page 58] ever touch, and awake, more than generals. He exceeds not an hour in preaching, because all ages have thought that a competency, and he that profits not in that time, will less afterwards; the same affection which made him not profit be­fore, making him then weary; and so he grows from not relishing, to loathing.

6. On Sundaies, having read Divine Service twice fully, and Preached in the morning, and Catechized in the afternoon, he thinks he hath in some measure, according to poor and frail man, discharged the publick duties of the Congrega­tion. The rest of the duty he spends either in re­conciling neighbours that are at variance, or in visiting the sick, or in exhortaton to some of his flock by themselves, whom his Sermons cannot or do not reach. And every one is more awaked, when we come and say, Thou art the man. At night he thinks it a very fit time, both sutable to the joy of the day, and without hinderance to publick duties, either to entertain some of his neighbours, or to be entertained of them: where he takes occasion to discourse of such things as are both profitable and pleasant, and to raise up their minds to apprehend God's blessing to our Church and State, &c.

(Here I had ended, but since I see the Book is hard in come by, prithee take some more.

7. The Country Parson considering that Virgi­nitie is a higher state than Matrimony, and that the Ministrie requires the best and highest things, is rather unmarried, than married. But yet as the temper of his bodie may be, or as the temper of his Parish may be where he may have occasion to converse with women, and that among suspicious men, and other like circumstances con­sidered, he is rather married than unmarried. Let him communicate the thing often by prayer to to God, and as his grace shall direct him, so let him proceed. If he be unmarried, and keep house, he hath not a woman in his house, but finds oppertunities of having his meat drest and other services done by men servants at home, and his linnen washed abroad. If he be unmarried and sojourn, he never talks with any woman alone, but in the audience of others, and that seldom, and then also in a serious manner, never jestingly or sportfully. He is very circumspect in all compa­nies, both of his behaviour, speech and very looks, knowing himself to be both suspected and envied. If he be married, the choice of his wife was made rather by his ear, than by his eye: his judgment, not his affection found out a fit wife for him; [Page 60] whose humble and liberal disposition he preferred before beauty, riches or honour.

8. He is very exact in the government of his house, making it a copy and model for his Parish. He knows the temper and pulse of every person in his house, and accordingly either meets with their vices, or advanceth their virtues. His wife is either religious, or night and day he is winning her to it. Instead of the qualities of the world, he requires only three of her. 1. a training up of her children and maids in the fear of God, with pray­ers and catechising, and all religious duties, 2. a curing and healing of all wounds and sores with her own hands: which skill either she brought with her, or he takes care she shall learn it of some religious neighbour, 3. a providing for her family in such sort, as that neither they want a competent sustentation, nor her husband in debt. His children he first makes Christians, and then Common-wealths men: the one he owes to his heavenly Country, the other to his earthly, ha­ving no title to either, except he do good to both. His servants are all religious: and were it not his duty to have them so, it were his profit: for none are so well served, as by religious servants, both because they do best, and because what they do is blessed and prospers.

9. Owing a debt of Charitie to the poor, and of courtesie to his other Parishioners, he so distin­guisheth [Page 61] that he keeps his mony for the poor, and his table for those that be above his alms. Not, but that the poor are welcome also to his table: whom he sometimes purposely takes home with him, setting them close by him, and carving for them, both for his own humility and their com­fort, who are much cheered with such friendliness. But he chooseth rather to give the poor money, which they can employ to their advantage, and sutably to their needs.

10. He is full of Charitie: it is his predomi­nant element: all his works rellish of Charity. When he riseth in the morning, he bethinketh himself what good deeds he can do that day, and presently doth them; counting that day lost, wherein he hath not exercised his charity. He takes, care, that there be not a begger, or idle per­son in his parish, but that all be in a competent way of getting their living. When-ever he gives any thing, and sees them labour in thanking of him, he exacts of them to let him alone, and say rather, God be glorified: that so the thanks may go the right way, and thither only, where they are only due. So doth he also, before giving, make them say their prayers first, or the Creed, and ten Commandements; and as he finds them perfect, rewards them the more. For other gi­vings are lay and secular, but this is to give like a Priest.

[Page 62]11. He hath a special care of his Church, that all things there be decent, and befitting his name by which it is called. Therefore, 1. he takes order that all things be in good repair. 2. That the Church be swept and kept clean without dust or cobwebs, and at great Festivals strawed and stuck with boughs, and perfumed with incense. 3. That there be fit and proper texts of Scripture every where painted, and that all the painting be grave and reverend, not with light colours or foolish anticks. 4. That all the books appointed by Authority be there, and those not torn or fouled, but whole and clean and well bound, &c.

12. Upon the afternoons in the week daies, he takes occasion sometimes to visit in person, now one quarter of his parish, now another. For there he shall find his flock most naturally as they are, wallowing in the midst of their affairs: whereas on Sondaies it is easie for them to compose them­selves to order, which they put on as their Holy­day-cloths, and come to Church in frame, but commonly the next day put off both. When he comes to any house, first he blesseth it, and then as he finds the persons of the house imployed, so he forms his discourse. Those that he finds reli­g [...]ously employed, he commends them much and furthers them, by furnishing them with good books. Those that he finds busie in the works of their calling, he commendeth them also. For it [Page 63] is a good and just thing for every one to do their own businesse. But then he admonisheth them of two things. 1. That they dive not too deep into worldly affairs, plunging themselves over head and ears into carkino and caring; but that they labour so, as neither to labour anxiously, nor di­strustfully, nor profanely. 2. He adviseth them so to labour for wealth and maintenance, as that they make not that the end of their labour, but that they may have wherewithal to serve God the better, and to do good deeds. The Parson also questions what order is kept in the house, as about prayers morning and evening on their knees, reading of Scripture, Catechising, &c. Neither disdain­eth he to enter into the poorest Cottage, though he even creep into it, and though it smell never so lothsomely. For, both God is there also, and those for whom God dyed: and so much the rather doth he so, as his accesse to the poor is more comforta­ble, then to the rich: and in regard of himself it is more humiliation.

13. When any of his Cure is sick or afflicted wih losse of friend, or estate, or any waies di­stressed, he fails not to afford his best comforts, and rather goes to them, then sends for the af­flicted, though they can, and otherwise ought to come to him. To this end he hath throughly di­gested all the points of Consolation, as having continual use of them: such as are, from God's [Page 64] general providence extended even to Lillies, from his particular to his Church, from his promises, from the examples of all Saints that ever were, from Christ himself perfecting our Redemption no other way then by sorrow, from the benefit of affliction which softens and works the stubbo [...]n heart of man, from the certainty both of delive­rance and reward if we faint not, from the com­parison of the moment of griefs here, with the weight of joyes hereafter.

14. When a just occasion calleth him out of his Parish (which he diligently and strictly weigheth, his Parish being all his joy and thought) he leaveth not his Ministry behind him, but is himself wherever he is. Therefore those he meet­eth on the way he blesseth audibly, and with those he overtakes, or that overtake him, he begins good discourses, such as may edifie, interposing sometimes some short and honest refreshments, which may make his other discourses more wel­come and lesse tedious. And when he comes to his Inne, he refuseth not to joyn in prayer, that he may enlarge the glory of God to the company he is in. The like he doth in the morning, using pleasantly the Outlandish Proverb: Prayers and Provinder never hinder journy.

13. Wherever he is, he keeps God's watch, that is, there is nothing spoken or done in the company where he is, but comes under his test, [Page 65] and censure: If it be well spoken or done, he takes an occasion to commend and enlarge it; if ill, he presently laies hold of it, lest the poyson steal into some young and unwary spirits, and possesse them even before they themselves heed it. But this he doth discreetly, with mollifying and suppling words: This was not so well said, as it might have been forborn; We cannot allow this. Or else, if the thing will admit Interpretation, Your meaning is not thus, but thus, or, So far in­deed what you said is true, and well said; but this will not stand.

16. He is in God's stead to his Parish, and dischargeth God what he can of his promises. Wherefore there is nothing done well, whereof he is not the rewarder. If he chance to find any reading in another's Bible, he provides him one of his own. If he find another giving a poor man a penny, he gives him a tester for it, if the giver be fit to receive it: if he be of a condition above such gifts, he sends him a good book, or easeth him in his Tiths, telling him when he hath forgotten it, This I do, because at such and such a time you were charitable.

17. The Country Parson values Catechizing highly. He useth and prefereth the ordinary Church-Catechism, partly for obodience to Autho­rity, partly for Ʋniformity sake, that the s [...]me common truths may be every where professed. [Page 66] He requires all to be present at Catechizing. 1. For the authority of the work. 2. That Parents and Masters, as they hear the Answers prove, may, when they come home, either commend or reprove, either reward or punish. 3. That those of the elder sort, who are not well grounded, may then, by an honourable way, take occasion to be better instructed. 4. That those who are well gro [...]n in the knowledge of religion, may exa­mine their grounds, renew their vows, and by oc­casion of both enlarge their meditations.

18. Being to administer the Sacraments, he is at a stand with himself, how or what behaviour to assume for so holy things. At Baptism, being himself in white, he requires the presence of all, and baptizeth, not willingly, but on Sondaies, or great daies. He admits no vain or idle names, but such as are usual and accustomed. He saies that prayer with great devotion, where God is thanked for calling us to the knowledge of his grace: willingly and cheerfully crosseth the child, and thinketh the Ceremony not only innocent, but reverend: instructeth the Godfathers and God­mothers, that it is no complemental and light thing to sustain that place: adviseth all to call to mind their Baptism often. At the times of the Holy Communion, he first takes order with the Church-wardens, that the Elements be of the best, not cheap or course, much lesse ill-tasted or un­wholsom. [Page 67] Secondly, he considers and looks into the ignorance or carelesnesse of his flock, and ac­cordingly applies himself with Catechizing and lively Exhortations, not on the Sonday of the Communion only (for then it is too late) but the Sonday or Sondays before the Communion, or on the Eves of all those daies.

18. If there be any of his Parish that hold strange doctrines, he uses all possible diligence to reduce them to the common faith. The first means he useth is prayer, beseeching the Father of lights to open their eyes: the second is a loving and sweet usage of them: the third is the observation, what is the main pillar of their cause, whereon they rely; as, if he be a Papist, the Church is the hinge he turns on; if a Schismatick scandal. These he hath diligently examined, &c. Vide Auctorem [...].

V. Dr JOSEPH HALL, Bishop of Norwich. (See Vol. 1.)
Out of his Life, written with his own hand.

1 I Was born July 1. 1574. at five of the Clock in the morning, in Bristow Park, within the Parish of Ashby de la Zouch, a Town in Leicestershire, of honest and well allow­ed parentage. My Father, under Henry Earl of Huntington, Lord President of the North, had the government of that Market-town: my Mother Winifride, of the house of Bambridges, was a wo­man of that rare sanctitie, that (were it not for my interest in nature) I durst say, that neither Mo­nica [Page 69] nor any other of those pious Matrons, anti­ently famous for devotion, need to disdain her admittance to comparison. She was continually exercised with the affliction of a weak body, and oft a wounded spirit. What with the tryal of both these hands of God, so had she profited in the School of Christ, that it was hard for any friend to come from her discourse no whit holye [...]. How often have I blessed the memory of those divine passages of experimental Divinitie, which I have heard from her mouth! What day did she passe without a large task of private Devotion, &c. In short, her life and death were Saintlike.

2. My parents had from my Infancy devoted me to this Sacred Calling, whereto, by the blessing of God, I have seasonably attained: for this cause, I was trained up in the publick School of the place. After I had spent some years (not alto­gether indiligently) under the ferule of such Masters as the place afforded, and had near at­tained to some competent ripenesse for the Ʋni­versitie, my School-master perswaded my Father that I might have my Education under an excel­lent Divine, the Preacher of Leicester. About which time, my elder brother having some occasi­ons to journy into Cambridge, was kindly enter­tained there by Mr Nath: Gilby, Fellow of Ema­nuel Coll: who, for that he was born in the same Town with me, and had conceived some good [Page 70] opinion of my aptnesse to learning, enquired di­ligently concerning me, and hearing of the diver­sion of my Fathers purposes from the University, importunately dissuaded from that new course, professing to pity the losse of so good hopes. My Brother, partly moved with his words, and partly won by his own eyes, to a great love and reve­rence of an Academical life, returning home, fell upon his knees to my Father, and after re­port of Mr Gilbies words, and his own admira­tion of the place, earnestly besought him that he would be pleased to alter that so prejudicial a re­solution; that he would not suffer my hopes to be drowned in a shallo [...] Country chanel, but that he would revive his first purposes for Cambridge; adding, in the zeal of his love, that if the charge­ablenesse of that course were the hinderance, he did there humbly beseech him, rather to sell [...]ome part of that land which himself should in [...]ourse of nature inherit, then to abridge me of that happy means to perfect my Education.

3. And now I lived in the exspectation of Cambridge, whither ere long I happily came, under Mr Gilbies tuition, together with my worthy frind Mr Hugh Cholmly; who, as we had been partners of one Lesson from our cradles, so [...]o were we now for many years partners of one bed. My two first years were necessarily chargea­ble above the proportion of my Fathers power, [Page 71] whose not very large Cistern was to feed many pipes besides mine; His wearinesse of expence was wrought upon by the counsel of some unwise friends, who perswaded him to fasten me upon that School as Master, whereof I was lately a Scho­lar. Now [...]as I fetcht home with an heavy heart, and no [...] the second time had mine hopes been nipt in the blossom, had not God raised me up an unhoped Benefactor, Mr Edmund Sleigh of Darby (whose pious memorie I have cause ever to love and reverence) out of no other relation to me, save that he married▪ my Aunt, pitying my too apparent dejectednesse. He voluntarily urged and solicited my Father for my return to the University, and offered freely to contribute the one half of my maintenance there, till I should attain to the degree of Master of Arts: which he no lesse lovingly perform'd▪ The Con­dition was gladly accepted▪ thither was I sent back with joy enough▪ and ere long chosen Scho­lar of that strict and well ordered Colledge.

4. By that time I had spent six years there, now the third year of my Batchelorship should at once make an end of my maintenance, and in respect of standing give me a capacity of farther preferment in that house, were it not that my Country excluded me: for our Statute allowed but one of a shire to be Fellow there, and my Tu­tor being of the same To [...]n with me, must there­fore [Page 27] necessarily hold me out. But the Earl of Huntingdon calling off my Tutor from his Fel­lowship, then was I with a cheerful unanimity chosen into that Societie: which if it had any equals, I dare say had none beyond it, for good order, studious carriage; strict government, au­stere prety; in which I spent six or seven years more with such contentment, as the rest of my life hath in vain striven to yeild. Now was I called to publick Disputations often, with no ill successe; for neither durst I appear in any of these exercises of Scholarship, till I had from my knees lookt up to Heaven for a blessing, and re­newed my actual dependance upon that Divine hand. In this while, two years together, was I chosen to the Rhetorick Lecture in the publick School; where I was encouraged with a sufficient frequence of auditors; but finding that well ap­plauded work somewhat out of my way, not without a secret blame of my self for so much excursion, I fairly gave up that task in the midst of those poor acclamations to a worthy successor, and betook my self to those serious studies, which might fit me for that High Calling whereunto I was destined. Wherein, after I had bestowed my self for a time, I took the boldnesse to enter into Sacred Orders; the honour whereof having once attained, I was no niggard of that Talent which my God had entrusted to me, preaching often as [Page 73] occasion was offered, both in Country villages abroad, and at home in the most awful auditory of the Universitie.

5. And now I did but wait where and how it would please my God to imploy me. There was at that [...]ime a most famous School erected at Tiverton in Devon, and endowed with a very large pension, whose goodly fabrick was answera­ble to the reported maintenance. To the govern­ment of this School was I commended by the Master of our House Dr. Ch [...]dert [...]n, when being in London I received a Letter from the Lady Drury of Suffolk, tendring the Rectory of her Halsted then newly void, and very earnestly de­siring me to accept of it Sir, (quoth [...] to the Doctor) me thinks God pulls me by the steeve; and tells me it is his will I should rather go to the East than to the West. Nay (answered he) I should ra­ther think that God would have you go West­ward, for that one I hath contrived your engage­ment before the tender of this Letter, which therefore coming too late may receive a fair and [...] answer. To this I besought him to pardon my dissent, adding, That I well knew that Divi­nitie was the end whereto [...] destin'd by my Pa­rents; which I had so constantly proposed to my self, that I never meant other but to passe through this western School to it: but I saw that God, who found me ready to go the farther way about, now [Page 74] called me the nearest and directest way to that sacred end. The good man could no further oppose, but only pleaded the distast which would hereupon be justly taken by the Lord Chief Justice Popham (upon whom the care of the School was princi­pally cast by the Founder Mr Blundel) whom I undertook fully to satisfie: which I did with no great difficulty, commending to his Lordship in my room, my old friend and Chamber-fellow, Mr Cholmly, who finding an answerable accep­tance disposed himself to the place. So as we two, who came to the University, must now leave it, at once.

6. Having then fixed my foot in Halsted, I found there a dangerous opposite to the successe of my Ministerie, a witty and bold Atheist, one Mr Lilly; who, by reason of his travels and abi­litie of discourse and behaviour, had so deeply insinuated himself into my Patron, Sr Robert [...], that there was small hopes, during his entirenesse, for me to work any good upon that Noble Patron of mine: who, by the suggestion of this wicked detractor, was set off from me before he knew me. Hereupon, I confesse, find­ing the obduratenesse and hopelesse condition of that man, I bent my prayers against him beseech­ing God dayly, that he would be pleased to re­ [...]ove, by some means or other, that apparent hindrance of my faithful labours: who gave me [Page 75] an answer accordingly: For this malicious man going hastily to London, to exasperate my Patron against me, was then and there swept away by the Pestilence, and never returned to do any further mischief. Now the coast was clear before me, and I gained every day of the good opinion and favourable respects of that Honourable Gentle­man, and my worthy neighbours.

7. Being now therefore setled in that sweet and civil Country of Suffolk, near St Edmunds-Bury, my first work was to build up my house, which was extremely ruinous; which done, the uncouth solitarinesse of my life, and the extreme incommodity of that single house-keeping; drew my thoughts after two years to condiscend to the necessity of a married estate, which God no lesse strangely provided for me. For, walking from the Church on Monday in the Whitson week, with a grave and reverend Minister, Mr Grandidg, I saw a comely and modest Gentlewoman standing at the door of that house, where we were invi­ted to a wedding-dinner, and enquiring of that worthy friend whether he knew her; Yes, quoth he, I know her well, and have be spoken her for your wife. When I farther demanded an account of that Answer, he told me, she was daughter of a Gentleman whom he much respected, Mr George Winniff of Bretenham; that out of an opinion had of the fitnesse of that Match for me; he had al­ready [Page 76] treated with her Father about it, whom he found very apt to entertain it, advising me not to neglect the opper unitie: and not concealing the just praises of modesty, piety, good disposition and other virtues that were lodged in that seemly presence, I listned to the motion as sent from God, and at last upon due prosecution happily pre­vailed, enjoying the comfortable Society of that meet Help for the space of forty nine years.

8. I had not passed two years in this estate, when my noble Friend, Sr Edmund Bacon, with whom I had much entirenesse, came to me, and earnestly sollicited me for my company in a Jorny by him projected to the Spa in Ardenna, laying before me the safety, the easinesse, the pleasure and the benefit of that small extravagance, if oppertunity were taken of that time, when the Earl of Hartford passed in Embassie to the Arch-Duke. I soon yeelded, as for the reasons by him urged, so especially for the great desire I had to inform my self ocularly of the state and practice of the Ramish Church; the knowledge whereof might be of no small use to me in my holy stati­on. Having therefore taken careful order for the supply of my Charge, with the assent and good allowance of my nearest Friends, I entred into this secret voyage, &c. Returning through Brus­sels, we came down to Antwerp, the Paragon of Cities: where my curiositie to see a solemn Pro­cession [Page 77] on S. John Baptist's day, might have drawn me into danger (through my willing unre­verence) had not the hulk of a tall Brabanter, be­hind whom I stood in the corner of the street, shaded me from notice.

9. After some year and half, it pleased God inexpectedly to contrive the change of my stati­on. My means were but short at Halsted; yet such, as I oft professed, if my then Patron would have added but one ten pounds by year (which I held to be the value of my detained due) I should never have removed. One morning as I lay in my bed, a strong motion was suddenly glanced into my thoughts of going to London. In Drurie lane I was found by a friend in whom I had formerly no great interest, one Mr Gurrey, Tutor to the Earl of Essex; he told me how well my Medi­tations were accepted at the Prince's Court; and earnestly advised me to step over to Richmond, and preach to his Highnesse. I strongly pleaded my indisposition of body, and my impreparation for any such work, together with my bashful fears, and utter unfitnesse for such a presence; my aversenesse doubled his importunity: in fine, he left me not till he had my engagement to preach the Sonday following at Richmond: he made way for me to that awful Pulpit, and encouraged me by the favour of his Noble Lord, the Earl of Essex. I preacht through the favour of my God:

That Sermon was not so well given as taken: in­somuch as that sweet Prince signified his desire to hear me again the Tuesday following, which done, that labour gave more contentment than the former; so as that gracious Prince, both gave me his hand, and commanded me to his service.

10. My Patron seeing me (upon my return to London) lookt after by some great Persons, began to wish me at home, and told me, That some or other would be snatching me up, I answered, That it was in his power to prevent, would he be pleased to make my maintenance, but so competent as in right it should be, I should never stir from him. In [...]ead of condescending, it pleased him to fall into an expostulation of the rate of competences, affirming the variablenesse thereof, according to our own estimation, and our either raising or moderating the causes of our expenses; I shew'd him the insufficiency of means, that I was forced to write books to buy books. Shortly, some harsh and un­pleasing answer, so disheartned me that I resolved to embrace the first opportunity of remove. Now whiles I was taken up with these anxious thoughts, a messenger (it was Sir Robert Wingfield of North­ampton's Son) came to me from the Lord Denny, no [...] Earl of Norwich, my after-most Honourable Patron, entreating me from his Lordship to speak with him. No sooner came I thither, then [Page 79] after a glad, and Noble welcom, I was entertain­ed with the Noble earnest offer of Waltham. The conditions were like the mover, free and boun­tiful: I received them as from the munificent hands of my God, and returned full of the cheer­ful acknowledgments of a gratious Providence over me. Too late now did my former Noble Patron relent, and offer me those terms which had before fastned me for ever. I returned home happy in a new master, and in a new Patron; betwixt whom I divided my self and my labours, with much comfort and no lesse acceptation.

11. In this while, my worthy Kinsman, Mr Samuel Burton, Arch-Deacon of Gloc. knowing in how good terms I stood at Court, and pitying the miserable condition of his native Church of Wolverhampton, was very desirous to engage me in so difficult and noble Service, as the Redemp­tion of that captivated Church. Which work ha­ving once firmly settled, in a just pity of the mean provision, if not the destitution of so many thousand souls, and a desire and care to have them comfortably provided for in the future, I resigned up my Prebend there to a worthy preacher, Mr Lee, who should constantly reside, and painfully instruct that great and long neglected people: which he hath performed with great mutual con­tentment and happy successe.

12. Now during the 22 years which I spent at [Page 80] Waltham, thrice was I commanded and employed abroad by his Majestie in publick service. First in the attendance of the Lord Vicount Doncaster, who was sent upon a Noble Embassie, with a gal­lant retinue into France. In this my absence it pleased his Majestie gratiously to confer upon me the Deanrie of Worcester, which being promised me before my departure, was deeply hazarded whiles I was out of sight, by the importunity of some great ones. Dr Field▪ the learned and worthy Doan of Glocester, was, by his potent Friends, put into such assurances of it, that I heard where he took care for the furnishing that ample house: But, God fetcht it about for me, in that absence and nescience of mine, and that reverend and better deserving Divine was well satisfied with greater hopes, and soon▪ after ex­changing this mortal estate for an immortal and glorious.

13. Before I could go down, through my con­tinual weaknesse, to take possession of that Dig­nitie, his Majesty pleased to design me to his at­tendance into Scotland; where the great love and respect that I found, both from the Ministers and people, wrought me no small envy from some of our own. Suggestions were made to his Maje­sty of my plausible demeanour and doctrine to that already prejudicate people: for which his Majesty, after a gracions acknowledgment of my [Page 81] good service there done, called me upon his re­turn to a favorable and mild account▪ not more freely professing what informations had been given against me, then his own full satisfaction with my sincere and just answer▪ as whose excel­lent wisdom well saw, that such winning carriage of mine could be no hinderance to his great de­signs. At the same time his Majesty having secret notice, that a Letter was coming to me from Mr W. Struther, a Reverend and Learned Divine of Edenborough concerning the five points then pro­posed and urged to the Church of Scotland, was pleased to impose upon me an earnest charge to give him a full Answer to those modest Doubts, and at large to declare my judgment concerning those required▪ Observations. Which I spedily performed with so great approbation of his Ma­jestie, that it pleased him to command a transcript thereof, as I was informed, publickly read in their most famous University. The effect where­of, his Majestie vouchsafed to signifie afterwards unto some of my best friends, with allowance beyond my hopes.

14. It was not long after, that his Majestie finding the exigence of the Netherlandish Churches to require it, both advised them to a Synodical Decision, and by his incomparable wis­dom promoted the work. My unworthinesse was named for one of the Assistants of that Honora­ble, [Page 82] Grave and Reverent Meeting; where I fail­ed not of my best service of that woful distracted Church. By that time I had staid two months there, the unquietnesse of the nights, in those Garrison Towns, working upon the tender dispo­sition of my body, brought me to such weakness, through want of rest, that it began to disable me from attending the Synod. Yet it pleased God, the very night before I was to preach the Latin Sermon to the Synod, to bestow upon me such a comfortable refreshing of sufficient sleep, as whereby my spirits were revived, and I was enabled with much vivacity to perform that Ser­vice. But when, notwithstanding all means, my weaknesse encreased, it pleased his gracious Ma­jestie to call me off, &c.

15. After not many years settling at home, it grieved my Soul, to see our own Church sicken of the same disease, which we had endeavoured to cure in our Neighbours. Sides were taken, and Pulpits every where rang of these opinions. Now, as one that desired to do all good offices to our dear and common Mother, I set my thoughts on work, how so dangerous a quarrel might be hap­pily composed, and wrote a little projest of Paci­fication, gathering out of Bishop Overal on the one side, and out of our English Divines at Dort on the other, such common propositions concern­ing these five busie Articles, as wherein both of [Page 83] them are fully agreed. These reconciliatory papers were presented to his Majestie, together with an humble motion of a peacesible silence to be enjoined to both parts, in those other collateral & need­lesse Disputations. These fell under the eyes of some grave Divines of both parts, who proferd their hands to a ready subscription: so as much peace promised to result out of that weak and poor enterprize, had not the confused noise of the misconstructions of those, who never saw the work (crying it down for the very name sake) meeting with the royal edict of a general Inhiti­on, buried it in a secure silence. I was scorched a little with this flame, which I desired to quench; yet this could not stay my hand from thrusting it self into a hotter fire.

16. Some insolent Romanists pressed nothing so much, as a Catalogue of the professions of our Religion, to be deduced from the Primitive times, and with the peremtory challenge of the impossibility of this pedigree dazled the eyes of the simple. Whiles some of our learned men, undertaking to satisfie so needlesse and unjust a demand, gave, as I conceive, great advantage to the Adversary; in a just indignation, to see us thus wrongd by mistateing the Question betwixt us, as if we, yeelding our selves of another Church, originally and fundamentally different, should make good our own Erection upon the [Page 84] Ruines, yea and Nullity of others; and well con­sidering the infinite and great inconveniences, that must needs follow upon this defence; I adventured to set my pen on work, (desiring to rectifie the opinions of those men, whom an igno­rant zeal had transported, to the prejudice of our holy cause,) laying forth the damnable corruptions of the Roman Church, yet making our Game at the outward visibilitie thereof, and by this means putting them to the probation of those newly obtruded corruptions, which are truly guilty of the breach betwixt us. The drift whereof being not well conceived by some spirits, that were not so wise as fervent, I was suddenly exposed to the rash censures of many well affected and zealous Protestants; as if a Remission to my wonted zeal to the truth, attributed too much to the Ro­man Church, and strengthned the Adversaries hands, and weakned our own. This envy I was fain to take off by my speedy Apologetical Adver­tisement, and after that by my Reconcilor, se­conded with the unanimous Letters of such Reverend, Learned, sound Divines, both Bi­shops and Doctors, as whose undoubtable Autho­rity was able to bear down calumny it self. Which done I did, by a seasonable Moderation, provide for the peace of the Church, in silencing both my Defendants and Challengers, in this unkind and ill-raised quarrel. [Page 85] 17. Immediatly before the publishing of this Tractate (which did not a little aggravate the en­vy and suspicion) I was by his Majesty raised to be Bishop of Exeter, having formerly, with humble deprecation, refused the See of Glocester ear­nestly proferd to me. I entred upon that place, not without much prejudice and suspicion on some hands. For some, that sate at the Stern of the Church, had me in great jealousie for too much favour of Puritanism. I soon had intelli­gence, who were set over me for Espials: my waies were curiously observed and scanned. However I took the resolution to follow those courses, which might most conduce to the peace and happinesse of my new and weighty charge. Finding therefore some factious spirits very busie in that Diocesse, I used all fair and gentle means to win them to good order; and therein so hap­pily prevailed, that (saving two of that numerous Clergy, who continuing in their refractorinesse fled away from censure) they were all perfectly reclaimed: so as I had not one Minister profes­sedly opposite to the antiently received Orders (for I was never guilty of urging any new impo­sitions of the Church in that large Diocess.

18. In the last year of presiding there, after the Synodical Oath was set on foot (which yet I did never tender to any one Minister of my Diocess) by the incitation of some busie [Page 86] interlopers of the neighbour County, some of them began to enter into an unkind contestation with me, about the election of Clerks for the Con­vocation; whom they secretly, without ever acquainting me with their desire or purpose (as driving to that end which we see now accompli­shed) would needs nominate and set up in com­petition to those, whom I had (after the usual form) recommended to them. That they had a right to free voices in that choice, I deny not: only I had reason to take it unkindly, that they would work underhand without me and against me. It came to the poll: those of my nomina­tion carried it: the Parliament begun: after some hard tugging there, returning home upon a recesse, I was met by the way and chearfully welcomed by some hundreds.

19. In no worse terms, I left that my once dear Diocese: when returning to Westminster, I was soon called by his Majestie (who was then in the North) to a remove to Norwich. But how I took the Tower in my way, and how I have been dealt with since my repair hither, I could be lavish in the sad report, ever de­siring my good God to enlarge my heart in thankfulnesse to him, for the sensible expe­rience I have had of his Fatherly Hand over me, in the deepest of all my Afflctions, and to strengthen me, for whatsoever other tryals [Page 87] he shall be pleased to call me unto: That being found faithful unto the death, I may obtain that Crown of life, which he hath ordained for all those that overcome.

VI. Sr THOMAS MORE,
Out of his Life, Written by J. H.

1 SIR Thomas More was the only Son of Sr John More, one of the Justices of the Kings Bench, a man singular for his many rare perfections. He was born at London in Milk-street (where his Father for the most part dwelt) An. 1480. shortly after, his Nurse riding with him over a water, and being in danger, threw the Infant over a hedge into the field ad­joyning. The Nurse escaped, and found her child safe▪ and smiling upon her. His Father, pleased with the omen, for his better education, placed him first in S. Anthonies School, and after he had gooten the Latin tongue, in the family of Arch-bishop Morton; where he shewed such [Page 89] wit and towardlynesse, that the Arch-bishop used to say to the Nobles at dinner with him: This child here waiting at the Table, whosoever shall live to see it, will prove a marvellous man.

2. The Arch-bishop for his advance in learn­ing, sent him to Cant: Coll. (now Christ-Church) in Oxford. Thence he removed to New Inn, an Inne of Chancery, to study the Law: then to Lincolns Inn, where he was made Barrister. And then he for some time read upon S. Austins de Civ. Dei, in S. Laurence Church, where his Le­ctures were frequented by Grocin and other learn­ed men: then, for three years was he [...]eader in Furnivals Inn: after which, for about four years, he gave himself to study and devotion in the Charter-house.

3. He was (first) maried to Mr Coles daughter of New-h [...]ll in Essex, and lived with her in Bucklers-burie in London, where he had by her one Son and three Daughters, whom he brought up in virtue and learning, ofter exhorting them to take that for their meat, and play but for their sauce.

4. In the later end of K. Henry 7. he fell in­to the Kings displeasure, for opposing the impo­sition proposed in Parliament toward the match­ing of the Lady Margaret into Scotland. Which he argued against strongly, that one of the Privy Chamber told the King, A beardlesse Boy had [Page 90] frustrated all his expectations. To avoid danger he determined to have gone over Sea, but the Kings death happening soon after acquitted him of his fear.

4. No [...] is he made under-Sheriff of London, by which office, and his learning together, he gained (as himself said) without grudge of conscience 400l per an. for he was of Counsel in most causes, choosing ever the justest side, and for the most partvictorious. Twice was he em­ployed abroad by the Kings consent in some great Causes of the Merchants. Being called by Car­dinal Woolsie to the Kings service, he excused himself at first, but at last (his fame and merit encreasing) the King would take no denial. Thus is he made Master of the requests: within a month Knighted, and one of the Privy Council; continuing in his Majesties favour and trusty ser­vice twenty years and above. In good part of which time, the King was so pleased with his converse, and taken with the variety of his learn­ed and pleasant discourse, that Sr Thomas scarce obtained time (till he abated of his former mirth) once in a month to go home to his wife and children. The King, upon the death of Weston, without asking, freely advanced him to be Trea­surer of the Exchequer, and in the 14 year of his Majesties raign was he chosen Speaker of the House of Commons.

5. At this Parliament he crossed the Cardinal and incurred his displeasure, so that in revenge he counselled the King to send Sr Thomas Em­bassadour into Spain, commending his wisdom, learning and fitnesse for that employment. But, Sr Thomas having declared to his Majestie how unfit a journy it was for him to undertake, the nature of the Country and his complexion so disagreeing, that if he were sent thither, he should be sent to his grave: neverthelesse being ready with the peril of his life to fulfil his Majesties pleasure; the King graciously said. It is not our meaning Mr More to do you hurt, but to do you good we would be glad: we therefore will think of some other, and employ your service otherwise. And such entire favour did the King bear him, that upon the death of Wingfield he preferred him to be Chancellor of the Dutchy of Lancaster.

6. K. Henrie took so great pleasure in Sr Tho­mas's company, that he would suddenly come to his house at Chelsey to be merry with him; and once, after dinner walking in the Garden, about an hour embraced his neck. After, when his son Roper rejoiced at it: I have no cause to be proud of it (quoth Sr Thomas) for if my head would win him a Castle in France, it would not fail to go off.

7. Sr Thomas More; though in great honour and favour with his Prince, was not therefore [Page 92] puft up with pride, disdain or arrogancy, but was of such a mild behaviour and excellent temper, that his Son in Law witnesseth; For sixteen years time and more that he dwelt in his house, and was conversant with him, he could never perceive him so much as onoe in a passion. If he chid any for a fault, it was with exceeding love and compassion: if he fortuned to argue with any learned man (as he was visited by many) when he perceived his adversarie to be in a streit, he would by some witty invention break off and fall into some other matter.

8. When Sr Thomas was employed by the King in Flanders, an arrogant fellow had set up a Thesis, that he would answer any question could be propounded to him in what Art soever. Sr Thomas made this question to be put up for him to answer, An Averia capta in Withernamia sint irreplegebilia, adding, that there was one of the English [...]mbassadors retinue, that would dispute with him thereof. This Thraso, not so much as understanding those terms of our Common Law, became ridiculous to all the town for his brag­ging.

9. As he walked by the Thames side near Chelsey, in discourse, he said: Now, would to our Lord, upon condition that three things were well established in Christendom, I were put into a sack, and here presently cast into the Thames. Being [Page 93] asked, what those three things were, he answer­ed: 1. That where most part of Chriistian Princes be now at mortal war, they were at an universal peace. 2. That where the Church of Christ is at this time sore afflicted with many errors and heresies, it were settled in a perfect uniformitie of Religion. 3. That whereas the Kings marriage is now brought in question, it were to the glorie of God and quietness of all parties well concluded.

10. When he observed any of his to spend much time in dressing themselves, to be fine in their Apparel, he would tell them: That if God gave them not hell, he should do them much wrong; for they took more pains to please the world and the Divel, than many even virtuous men did to clense their souls and please God.

11. To his wife and children, when at any time they were troubled, he would say: We may not look at our pleasure to go to heaven in fether-beds that is not the way. For our Lord himself went thi­ther through pain, and many tribulations▪ and the servant may not look to be in better condition than the master.

12. The King sent the Bishop of Durham and Sr Thomas More Embassadors to Cambray (a place, then, neither Imperial nor French) to treat of a peace between the Emperor and the French King and Him. In the conclusion, Sr Thomas so worthily behaved himself (procuring in the [Page 94] league far more advantages unto this Kingdom, than at that time by the King or his Council was thought possible) that for his good service in that employment, the King made him Lord Chancellor, and caused the Dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk to bring him through Westmin [...]er-hall to his place in the Chancery. Where the Duke of Norfolk in audience of all the people there assembled, shewed that he was from the King himself streit­ly charged by commission, there openly in pre­sence of them all, to make Declaration how much all England was heholding to Sr Tho. More for his good service, and how worthy he was of the highest preferment in the Kingdom, and how dearly his Grace loved and trusted him.

13. Now upon Sr Tho: More's entrance into this honorable Office, every one might perceive a very strange alteration. For, whereas the pre­cedent Chancellor Wolsey would scarce look or speak to any; into whose only presence none could be admitted unlesse his fingers were tipt with gold: on the contrary, this Chancellor, the poorer and meaner the Suppliant was, the more affably he would speak unto him, the more atten­tively he would hearken to his cause, and with speedy tryal dispatch him. For which purpose he used commonly every afternoon to sit in his Hall, that if any Person watsoever had any sute unto him, they might the more boldly come into [Page 95] his presence, and open their complaints before him. To shew his integrity, he professed: If the parties will at my hands call for justice, though my Father, whom I dearly love, stood on the one side, and the Divel, whom I extremely hate, stood on the other, his cause being good, the Devil should have right.

14. The Bishops (considering his learned works in defence of religion, and knowing that (for all his Princes favour) he was no rich man, nor ad­vanced in yearly revenues, as his worthinesse de­served) agreed together in Convocation, and con­cluded upon a sum of four or five thousand pounds to recompence him for his pains. [...]onstal and some other Bishops repaired to him, and declared, That albeit they could not according to his de­serts so worthily requite him as they gladly would, but must refer that only to the goodness of God; yet for a small part of recompence, in re­spect of his estate so unequal to his worthinesse, in the name of their whole Convocation, they presented to him that sum, which they desired him to accept of. To whom he answered: That like as it was no small comfort to him, that so wise and learned men so well accepted of his doings, for which he never intended to receive reward but at the hands of God only, to whom alone was the thanks thereof chiefly to be ascribed; so also he most humbly thanked the Honors for their bountiful consideration; [Page 96] But, for all their importunity, they could not fa­sten it upon him, nor would he suffer them to be­stow it upon his wife and children.

15. He behaved himself in his office of the Chancellorship (for the space of two years and a half) so wisely that none could mend his doings, so uprightly that none could take exception against him, so dextrously that (tis to be supposed) never any man before or since did that which he did. For he had taken such order for the dispatching of all mens causes, that on a time sitting as Judge there, and having finished one cause, calling for the next to be heard, answer was made, That there was not one cause more depending. This he cau­sed to be set down upon Record.

16. After he had obtained of the King a dis­charge from his office, he fell into his Majesties displeasure about r [...] Marriage. And then was he accused for receiving a bribe from one Vaughans wife. The matter being laid to his charge before the Council, he confessed, that a g [...] Cup being (long after a certain Decree) brought him for a ne [...] years gift, and pressed on him, in courtesie he received it. Whereupon his Adversary with much joy said, Lo, my Lords, did I not tell you, that you should find the matter true? Sr Thomas desiring their Lordships [...]o hear him out, It is true, said [...]e, I did, being much urged, receive that Cup, but immediately caused my Butler to fill it with wine, [Page 97] drank to the Gentle [...]oman, and freelie gave it to her again to be presented to her husband, as a New years gift for him. This being testified presently upon oath of the party her self and others, the moun­tain was delivered of a Mouse.

17. After the King's indignation against Sir Thomas More, the Duke of Norfolk and He chanced to fall in discourse, and amongst other talk, the Duke said unto him, By the Masse, Mr More, it is perillous striv [...]ng with Princes, and therefore I would wish you somewhat to incline to the Kings pleasure. For, Indignatio Principis [...]o [...]s est. Is that all, my Lord, said Sir Thomas, Then in good faith is there no more difference betwixt your Grace and me, but that I shall dye to day and you to morrow.

18. When he was sent unto the Tower (for not swearing to the Oath of Supremacy and Suc­cession) at his entrance there, the Porter deman­ded of him his upper garment. Mr Porter, said he, here it is: and took off his Cap and gave it him: I am sorrie it is no better for thee. No Sir, said the Porter, I must have your Gown, which he gave him.

19. The Lieutenant coming into his chamber to visit him, professed himself obliged by for­mer f [...]vours to entertain him nobly: which since he could not do for fear of the Kings displeasure, he prayed him to accept of his good will, and [Page 98] such poor fare as he had: Master Lieutenant (quoth Sir Thomas) I believe you are my friend, I thank you for your good will, and I assure you I do not mislike my cheer: but whensoever I do, then thrust me out of your doors.

20. In the Tower, he had begun a Divine Treatise of the Passion of Christ, and when he came to these words of the Gospel, ( And they laid hands on him and held him) they took from him all his Books, Ink, and Paper, so that he could go on no further. Afterwards, he applyed himself holly to Meditation, keeping his Cham­ber windows fast shut and very dark; the occa­sion whereof the Lieutenant asking; It is time (said he) when all the wares are gone to shut up shop.

21. After he had received the sentence of death, he said to the Judges: My Lords, as w [...] read that Paul consented to the death of Stephen, and yet be they now both Saints in Heaven, and shall con­tinue there friends for ever; so I verily trust, and shall therefore right heartily pray, that though your Lordships have been now Judges on earth to my con­demnation, we may yet hereafter all meet together in Heaven merrily to our everlasting salvation. And s [...] I pray God preserve my Soveraign Lord the King, and send him faithful Councellors.

* See the rest, if you please, in this English Wri­ter, or in Stapleton's Latin book, De tribus Thomis.

VII. Sr HENRY WOTTON.
Out of his Life written by Mr Iz: Walton.

1 SIR Henry Wotton was born An. 1568. in Bocton-Hall, in the Parish of Bocton Malherb, in the fruitful Country of Kent: both House [...]nd Church seated within a fair Park of the Wottons, on the brow of such a hill as gives the advantage of a large prospect, and of equal pleasure to all behol [...]ers. But they are not remarkable fo [...] any thing so much, as for that the memorable Familie of the Wottons have so long inhabited the one, and now lie buried in the other, as appears by their many Monuments in that Church; the Wottons being a Family, that hath brought fo [...]th divers Persons eminent for Wisdom and Valour, whose Heroick Acts and [Page 100] Noble Employments, both in England and in Forein parts, have adorned themselves and this Nation.

2. Thomas Wotton (the Father of our Henrie) was a Gent. excellently educated and studious in all the liberal Arts: who, although he had many invitations from Queen Elizabeth to change his Countrie recreations and retirement for a Court life, offering him a Knighthood (she was then with him at his Bocton-hall) and to be but as an earnest of some more honorable and more profi­table imployment under her, yet he humbly re­fuseth both; being a man of great modestie, of a most plain and single heart, of an antient freedom and integritie of mind: A commendation, which Sir Henrie took occasion of [...]en to remember with great gladness, and thankfully to boast himself the Son of such a Father: from whom indeed he deri­ved that noble Ing [...]nuitie that was alwaies practi­sed by himself, and which he ever commended and cherished in others.

3. Of this Family was Nicholas Wotton Doctor of Law, and sometime Dean of Canterburie: a man whom God did not only blesse with a long life, but with great abilities of mind, and an inclina­tion to employ them in the service of his Coun­try; as is testified by his several imployments, having been sent nine times Embassador unto forein Princes, a Privy Councellor to [...]. Henrie 8 [Page 101] Edward 6. Q. Marie and Q. Elizabeth: who imployed him three several times for setling of peace between England, Scotland and France, who also offered him the Archbishoprick of Cant. but he refused it, and dyed not rich, though he had lived in the time of dissolution of Abbies. He dyed (saith learned Camden) full of commendation for Wisdom and Pietie.

4. The Father of Sir Henrie after the death of his first wife resolved, if he should marry again, to avoid three sorts of persons; namely, those that had children, or had law suits, or were of his kinred. And yet, following his own L [...]w­suits, he met in Westminster-hall with one Mrs Morton wido [...], (daughter to Sir William Finch of Kent) who [...]as also ingaged in several suits in Law: and observing her Comportment at the time of hearing one of her Causes before the Judges, he could not but at the same time both compas­sionate her condition, and so affect her person, that although there was in her a concurrence of all those accidents against which he had resolved, yet he sollicited her for a wife and obtained her. By her he h [...]d our Henrie, his youngest son.

5. His Mother was Tutoresse to him during his childhood: for [...]hich care and pains he paid her every day with such visible signs of future perfection in learning, as turned her imployment into a pleasing trouble. After, his Father took [Page 102] him into his particular ca [...]e, and disposed of him to a Tutor in his own house: and when time and diligent instruction had fitted him (which was very early) he was sent to Winch ster School, a place of st [...]ict Dis [...]ipline and Order, that so he might in his youth be molded into a method of living by rule. And that he might be confirmed in this Regularitie, he was at a fit age removed from that [...]hool to New Coll: in Oxford.

6. There he [...]ontinued till about the 18th year of his age, and was then transplanted into Queens Coll. where within that year he wrote a Play for their private use, the Tragedie of Tan­credo, so [...]ell, that the gravest of that Society declared, he had in a slight exercise given an early and a solid te [...]imony of future abilities. About the 19 ^th year of his age, he proceeded Master of Arts, and at that time read in Latin three Lectures De oculo: wherein, having descri­bed the fo [...]m, motion, curious composure of the eye, &c. in the conclusion he took a fair occasion to beautifie his discourse with a commendation of the blessing and benefit of seeing; so exactly and Rhetorically, as, among other admirers, caused that learned Italian Albericus Gentilis (then pro­fessor of the Civil Law in Oxford) to call him, Henrice mi ocelle; which dear expression of his was used by many other persons of note, during his stay in the Ʋniversitie.

7. After his Optick Lectare, he was taken into such a bosom friendship with Gentilis, that if it had been possible, he would have breathed all his excellent knowledge both of the Mathematicks and Law into the breast of his dear Henrie (for so he used to call him) and though he was not able to do that, yet there was in Sir Harrie such a propensity and connaturalnesse to the Italian lan­guage and those studies whereof Gentilis was a great Master, that this friendship between them did dayly increase and proved dayly advantage­ous to Sir Henrie for the improvement of him in several Sciences. Among his other friends in Oxford, I must not omit the mention of a love there begun between him and Dr Donne (whom, he of this nation, who pretends to learning or ingenuity, and is ignorant of, dese [...]ves not to kno [...].) This friendship was generously elemented, and as it was begun in their Youth in the [...]niver­sity, and there maintained by correspondent incli­nation and studies, so it lasted till Age and Death forced a separation.

8. The year after Sir Henrie proceeded Ma­ster of Arts, his Father (whom he did never mention without this or some like reverential expression, That good man my Father) changed this for a better life, leaving to Sr Henry, as to his other younger sons, a rent charge of an hundred Marks a year to be paid for ever out of one of [Page 104] his M [...]nnors of a much greater value. About two years after, being about t [...]o and twenty, and having to his great Wit added the ballast of Learn­ing, he laid aside his Books, and betook himself to travel and a more general conversation with Mankind: imploying the remaining part of his youth to purchase the rich treasure of forein know­ledg. Of which, both for the secrets of nature, the dispositions of many Nations, their several Laws and Languages, he became the possessor in a very large me [...]sure.

9. In his Travels (which was almost nine years befo [...]e his return into England) he stayed but one year in France, and most of that in Geneva: where he became acquainted with Theodore Beza, (then very aged) and with Isaac Casaubon, that most learned man. Three of the remaining eight years were spent in Germanie, the other five in Italy the stage on which God appointed he should act a great part of his life) where both in Rome, Venice, and Florence, he became acquainted with the most eminent men for learning and all manner of Arts, as Picture, Sculpture, Chymistrie, Architecture, and divers other manual Arts, even Arts of infe­riour nature: of all which he was a most dear lover, and a most excellent Judge.

12. He returned out of Italy into England [...]bout the 30 ^•h year of his Age, being then noted by many, both for his person and comportment. [Page 105] For indeed he was of a choice shape, tall of stature, and of a most pleasant behaviour: which was so mixed with sweet discourse and civilities, as gain­ed him much love from all persons with whom he entred into an acquaintance. And whereas he was noted in his youth to have a sharp wit and apt to jest; That, by time, travel and conversa­tion, was so polished and made useful, that his companie seemed to be one of the delights of man­kind. In so much as Robert Earl of Essex (then one of the darlings of fortune) invited him first into a friendship, and after a knowledge of his great Abilities, to be one of his Secretaries. After the Earls Apprehension, he passed into France and thence into Italy. After some stay in France, (where he met with his old friend Vietta, then Secretary to the great Duke) he went the fourth time to visit Rome, and injoyed the company of his friends (notwithstanding his Religion) in the English Colledge, and satisfied himself concerning some curiosities.

11. After his return to Florence, the Duke ha­ving intercepted certain Letters that discovered a design to take away the life of the then King of Scots, sent Sir Henrie to impart it to the King, under the name of Octovio Baldi an Italian. Ha­ving deliverd his Letters and Message, and pri­vately told the King that he was indeed an English-man, he abode there three months with [Page 106] much pleasure to his Majestie, and so returned to Florence with a fair account of his imployment. Queen Elizabeth, some few months after depar­ted, and King James was proclaimed. When he was come into England, he commanded the Lord Wotton to send for his Brother Henrie. Being brought to the King, he took him in his arms and bade him welcome by the name of Octovio Baldi, saying, He was the most honest, and therefore the best dissembler that ever he met with; adding, Since I know you neither want learning, travel nor experience, and that I have had so real a testimonie of your faithfulness and abilities to manage an Em­bassage, I shall make use of you in that kind here­after. And indeed the King did so, mo [...] of those 22 years of his raign: but before he dismist Octavio Baldi from his present attendance upon him, he resto [...]ed him to his old name of Henrie Wotton, by which he then Knighted him.

12. Not long after this, the King having re­solved, according to his Motto, Beati pacifici, to have a friendship with his neighbour Kingdoms of France and Spain; and also for divers weighty reasons to enter into an alliance with the State of Ven [...]ce; and to that end to send Ambassadors to these several places; did propose the choice of these employments to Sir Henrie Wotton. Who considering the smalnesse of his own estate (which he never took care to augment) and knowing the [Page 107] Courts of great Princes to be sumptuous and ne­cessarily expensive, inclined most to that of Ve­nice, as being a place of mo [...]e retirement and best suiting with his Genius, who did ever love to joyn with businesse stud [...]e and a trayal of natural experience; for which, fruitf [...]l Italy, that darling of nature, and cherisher of all arts, is so justly fa­med in all parts of the Christian World. Having therefo [...]e resolved upon Venice, and a large allow­ance being appointed by the King for his voyage thither, and a settled m [...]intenance during his stay there, he left England, nobly accompained through France to Venice by Gentlemen of the best Families an [...] Breeding that this Nation afforded. Sir Albertus Morton his Nephe [...] went his Secretarie, and William Bedel, a man of choice learning and s [...]nctified wisdom, his Chaplain.

13. An. 1605. Sir Henrie Wotton was received by the State of Venice with much honour and gladnesse, both for that he deliverd his Embassage most elegantly in the Italian Language, and came also in such a juncture of time, as his Masters friendship seemed useful for that Republick. In the contention with the Pope (which lasted seve­ral years) the Venetians still acquainted K. James with their proceedings, by the help of Sir Henrie Wotton, Mr Bedel, and Padre Paulo, whom the Venetians did then call to be one of their Con­sultors of State, and with his pen to defend their [Page 108] cause. Which was by him so performed, that the Pope saw plainly, he had weakned his power by exceeding it, and offered the Venetians Absolution upon very easie terms; which the Venetians still slighting, did at last obtain by that which was scarce so much as a shew of acknowledging it. These ontests were the occasion of Padre Paulo his knowledge and interest with K. James: for whose sake principally Father Paulo compiled that eminent Historie of the Council of Trent. Which History was, as fa [...]t as it was written, sent in several sheets in Letters by Sir H. Wotton, Mr Bedel and others unto K. James, and the then B. of Cant: in England, and there first made publick both in [...]nglish and in the Universal Language.

14. For eight years after Sir Henrie Wotton's going into Italie, he stood fair, and highly valued but at last became much clouded by this accident Being merry with his friends at Augusta (men of. the best note for learning and ingenuousness, the Virtuos [...] of that Nation) he was requested by Christopher Flecamore to write some Sentence in his Albo (a book of white paper, which for that purpose many of the German Gentry usually carry about them) and consenting to the motion, took an occasion from some accidental discourse of the present company, to write a pleasant definition of an Embassador in these very words: Legatus est Vir bo [...]us peregrè missus ad mentiendum Reipub. [Page 109] causa: which Sir Henrie could have been con­tent should have been thus Englished: An Am­bassador is an honest man sent to lie abroad for the good of his Countrie. But the word for lie (being the hinge upon which the conceit was to turn) was not so expresse in Latin as would admit (in the hands of an enemy especially) so fair a con­struction as Sir Henrie thought in English. This coming to the knowledge of K. James by the malicious pen of Caspar Scioppius, much offended his Majestie: and this caused Sir Henrie Wotton to write two Apologies, one in Latin to Velserus, and another to K. James: which were so inge­nuous, so clear, and so choicely eloquent, that his Majestie (who was a pure Judge of it) could not forbear to declare publi [...]kly, That Sir H. Wo [...]ton had commuted sufficiently for a greater offence. And now, as broken bones well set become stronger; so Sir Henrie Wotton did not only recover, but was much more confirmed in his Majesties favour.

15. And his Interest stil increased with the Duke Leonardo Donato: after whose death (as though it had been an entaild love) it was still found living in the succeding Dukes, during all the time of his employment to that State; which was almost 20 years. All whi [...]h time he studyed the Dispositi­ons of those Dukes, & the Consultors of State▪ wel knowing, that he who negotiates a continual bu­siness and neglects the studie of dispositions, usually [Page 110] fails in his proposed ends: But this Sir H. Wotton did not. For by a fine sorting of fit Presents, curious and not costly entertainments, alwaies sweetned by various and pleasant discourse, by his choice application of stories, and his so ele­gant delivery of all these, even in their Italian Language, he first got, and still preserved such interest in the State of Venice, that it was obser­ved (such was either his merit or his modestie) they never denyed him any request.

16. When he had attended the Emperour and German Princes eight months, to incline them to equitable conditions for the Restoration of the Queen of Bohemia and her Descendants to their Patrimonial Inheritance of the Palati­nate, and had brought the businesse to a probabi­lity of successe; but after a victory gotten by the Imperial Army, saw the face of peace altered; at his departure from the Emperour, he was so bold, as humbly to advise him to use his Victorie soberly, and still put on thoughts of peace. Which advice though it seemed to be spoke with some passion, yet was taken in good part by the Empe­rour, who was ever much pleased with his cari­age, all the time that he resided in his Court; and said, That though the King his Master was lookt on as an Abetter of his enemie the Palsgrave, yet he took him to be a Person of much honour and merit, and did therefore desire▪ him to accept of that [Page 111] Jewel, as a testimonie of his good opinion of him: which was a Jewel of Diamonds of more value than a thousand pounds. This was received with all circumstances and terms of honour by Sir H. Wotton: but the next morning at his departing from Vienna, at his taking leave of the Countess of Salvina, an Italian Lady, in whose house the Emperour had appointed him to be lodged and honourably entertained; He acknowledged her merits, and besought her to accept of that Jewel, as a testimonie of his gratitude: presenting her with the same that was given him by the Emperour. Which being suddenly discovered by the Empe­rour, was by him taken for a high affront, and Sir H. Wotton told so. To which (in the nobleness of his mind) he repli'd: That though he received it with thankfulness, yet he found in himself an in­disposition to be the better for any gift that came from an Enemie to his Royal Mistresse: for so the Queen of Bohemia was pleas'd he should call her.

17. Many other of his Services to his Prince and this Nation might be insisted on, as his pro­curation of Privileges and courtesies with the German Princes and the [...]epublick of Venice for the English Merchants, his releasing and relie­ving many hundred captivated English soldiers, and sending them back in a comfortable conditi­on to thank God for their lives and libertie, in [Page 112] their own Nation: but I must ha [...] to bring Sir H. Wotton in an instant from Venice to London, whither he returned that year in which K. James dyed.

18. The King had, for the reward of his for­rein service, promised him the reversion of an Office, which was fit to be turned into present money, and also granted him the Reversion of the Master of the Rolls place, if he outlived cha­ritable Sir Julius Caesar, who then possessed it, and then grown so old that he was said to be kept alive, beyond natures course, by the prayers of those many poor which he dayly relieved▪ Mean while, his condition requir'd present support. For in the beginning of these imployments he sold to his elder brother the Lord Wotton the Rent-charge left by his good Father, and (which is worse) was now at his return indebted to several persons, whom he was not able to satisfie, but by the Kings payment of his Arrears: He had brought into England many servants; of whom some were German and Italian Artists. This was part of his condition, who had many times hardly sufficient to supply the occasions of the day. (For it may by no means be said of his providence, as himself said of Sir Philip Sidney's wit, That it was the very measure of congruitie.) he being alwaies so careless of mony, as though our Saviours words, Care not for to morrow, were to be literally understood.

19. But it pleased God, that in this juncture of time, the Provostship of his Majesties College of Eaton became void by the death of Murray, for which there were (as the place deserv'd) ma­ny earnest and powerful Suitors to the King. Sir Henrie, who had for many years rolled the rest­lesse stone of a State employment, and knowing experimentally, that the great blessing of sweet content was not to be found in multitudes of men or businesse, and that a College was the fittest place to nourish holy thoughts, and to afford rest both to his body and mind, which his Age (being now almost threescore years) seemed to require; did therefore use his own and the interest of all his Friends to procure it. By which means, and quitting the King of his promised reversionary Offices (and by a piece of honest policy) he got a grant of it from his Majestie.

20. And this was a fair settlement to his mind: but money was wanting to furnish him with those necessaries which attend removes and a settle­ment in such a place. To procure that, he wrote to his old friend Mr Nicholas Pey (in whom was a radicated horestie and true gratitude to the Fa­mily, having been preferd at Court by the Lord Wotton) to use all his interest to procure five hun­dred pounds of his Arrears; for lesse [...]ould not settle him at the College, and the want of it wrinkled his face with cares ('twas his own ex­pression) [Page 114] and that being procur'd he should the next day after find him in his College, and Invi­diae remedium writ over his study door.

21. This mony being procured, and he being settled according to the desires of his heart (the College being to his mind as a quiet harbour to a Seafaring man after a tempestious voyage) his first study was the Statutes of the College: by which he conceiv'd himself bound to enter into Holy Orders, which he did, being made Deacon with convenient speed. Shortly after, as he came in his Surplice from the Church-service, an old friend, a person of quality, met him so attired, and joyed him: to whom Sir H. Wotton replyed, I thank God and the King, by whose goodnesse I now [...]m in this condition, a condition which the Emperour Charles the fifth seemed to approve, &c. I dayly magnifie my God for this particular m [...]rcie of an exemption from businesse, a quiet mind and a liberal maintenance, even in this part of my life, when my Age and infi [...]mities seem to sonnd me a retreat from the pleasures of this world, and invite me to contemplation; in which I have ever taken the grea­test felicitie.

21. After his customary publick Devotions, his use was to retire into his Study, and there to spend some hours in reading the Bible and Au­tho [...]s in Divinity, closing up his Meditations with private prayer. This was, for the most part, [Page 115] his employment in the forenoon. But, when he was once sate at Dinner, then nothing but cheerful thoughts possess'd his mind, and those still en­creased by constant companie at his Table such persons as brought thither additions both of learning and pleasure. But some part of most daies was usually spent in Philosophical conclusions. Nor did he forget his innate pleasure of A [...]gling; which he did usually call, his idle time, not idly spent: saying, He would rather live five May­months, than fortie Decembers. He was a great lover of his neighbors, and a bountiful enter­tainer of them very often at his Table: where his meat was choice, and his discourse better.

22. He was a constant cherisher of all those Youths in that School, in whom he found etiher a constant diligence, or a genius that prompted them to learning. For whose encouragement he was▪ (beside many other things of necessity and bounty) at the charge of setting up in it two rows of Pillars, on which he caused to be drawn the pictures of divers of the most famous Greek and Latin Historians, Poets and Orators; persiva­ding them not to neglect Rhetorick, Because Almightie God has left mankind Affections to be wrought upon. And he would often say, That none despised Eloquence, but such dull Souls as were not capable of it. He would also often make choice of Observations out of those Historians and Poets: [Page 116] but he would never leave the School without dropping some choice Greek or Latin Apothegm or Sentence, such as were worthy of a room in the memory of a growing Scholar. He was pleased constantly to breed up one or more hopely Youths, which he picked out of the School, and took into his own domestick c [...]re, and to attend him at his meals: Out of whose behaviour and discourse, he gathered observations for the better complea­ting of his intended work of Education: of which, by his still striving to make the whole better, he lived to leave but part of posterity.

23. He was a great enemy to wrangling Di­sputes of Religion. Having in Rome made acquain­tance with a pleasant Priest, who invited him one evening to hear their Vesper-musick at Church; the Priest seeing Sir Henrie stand ob­scurely in a corner, sends to him by a boy of the Quire this question writ in a small piece of paper, Where was your Religion to be found before Luther? To which question Sir Henrie presently under­writ, My religion was to be found then, where yours is not to be found now: in the written word of God. To another that asked him, Whether a Papist may be saved, he replyed, You may be saved without know­ing that: look to your self. To another, whose ear­nestnesse exceeded his knowledge, and was still railing against the Papists, he gave this advice; Pray Sir forbear, till you have studied the [Page 117] points better: for the wise Italians have this Pro­verb, He that understands amisse, concludes worse. And take heed of thinking, the farther you go from the Church of Rome, the nearer you are to God.

24. And to another that spake indiscreet and bitter words against Arminius, I heard him reply to this purpose: In my travels, I rested almost a year at Leyden, where I entred into an acquaintance with Arminius, then Professor of Divinitie in that Ʋniversitie, a man much talkt off in this Age, which is made up of opposition and contrariety. And indeed, if I mistake not Arminius in bis expressions (as so weak a brain as mine is may easily do) then I know and differ from him in some points: Yet, I professe my judgment of him to be, that he was a man of most rare learning; and I know him to be of a most strict life, and of a most meek spirit.—And doubtlesse many middle-witted men (which yet may mean well:) many Scholars that are not in the highest Form for learning (which yet may preach well:) do justly fall under the reproof of S. Jude, for being busie-bodies, and for medling with things they understand not.

25. This is some Account both of his Inclina­tion and the Imployment of his time in the College: where he seemed to have his Youth re­newed by a continual conversation with that learned Societie, and a dayly recourse of other friends of choicest breeding and parts: by which [Page 118] that great blessing of a cheerful heart was still maintained, he being alwaies free, even to the last of his daies, from that peevishnesse which usually attends age. Yet his mirth was some­times dampt by the remembrance of divers old debts: and finding some decaies of health, he did, about two years before his death, that none should be a looser by it, make his last Will. Con­cerning which a doubt still remains, whether it discovered more holy wit or conscionable policie: but there is no doubt, but that his chief design was a Christian endeavour, that his debts might be satisfied, ( as appeareth by this part of it.)

‘To my Lords Grace of Cant: now being, I leave my picture of divine love, rarely copied from one in the Kings Galleries of my pre­sentation to his Majestie: beseeching him to recieve it as a pledge of my humble reverence to his great wisdom. And to the most worthy L. B. of London, Lord high Treasurer of Eng­land, in true admiration of his Christian sim­plicitie [...]nd contempt of earthly pomp, I leave a Picture of Heraclitus bewailing, and Democri­tus laughing at the world: most humbly be­seeching the said Lo. Archb. his Grace, and the [...]o. B. of London, of both whose favours I have tasted in my life time, to intercede with our most Gracious Soveraign after my death, [Page 119] in the bowels of Jesus Christ, that out of compassionate memory of my long services (wherein I more studyed the publick Honour than mine own Utility) some order may be taken out of my Arrears due in the Exchequer for satisf [...]ction of my Creditors, &c.’

Accordingly, conscionable satisfaction was gi­ven for his just debts.

26. He went usually once a year, if not oft­ner, to the beloved Bocton-hall: where, he would say, he found both cure for all cares by the company (which he called the living furniture) of that place, and a restorative of his health by the connaturalnesse of that which he called his genial air. He yearly went also to Oxford: but the Summer before his death he changed that for a jorney to Winchester College. And as he returned said to his companion: How useful was that ad­vice of a holy Monk, who perswaded his friend to perform his customarie devotions in a constant place: because in that place, we usually meet with those thoughts which possessed us at our last being there. And I find it thus far experimentally true, that at my now being at that School, seeing that verie place where I sate when I was a boy, occasioned me to re­member those thoughts of my Youth which then pos­sessed me, &c.

27. After his return from Winchester, he fell into a dangerous fever which weakned him much: [Page 120] he was then also much troubled with a continual short spitting; but that infirmity he seemed to overcome in a good degree by leaving Tobacco, which he had taken somewhat immoderately. And about two months before his death ( Oct. 1639.) he again fell into a fever, which though he seemed to recover, yet these still left him so weak, that those common infirmities (which were wont like civil friends to visit him, and after some short time to depart) came both oftner, and at last took up their constant habitations with him, still weakning his body. In the beginning of a December following he fell again into a Quartane fever; and in the tenth fit, his better part, that part of Sir Henrie Wotton which could not dy, put off mortality, with as much content and cheer­fulnesse, as humane frailty is capable of, being in perfect peace with God and man.

His Epitaph by himself.

Hic jacet hujus sententiae primus Author,

Disputandi pruritus, Ecclesiarum scabies,

Nomen aliàs quaere.

Another sentence wherein he delighted:

Animas fieri sapientiores quiescendo.

Another, Amor unit omnia.

Ob. Etonae, Anno Sal. 1639. Aetat. 72.

VIII. Mr WILLIAM BEDEL, Bishop of Kilmore.
Out of Mr Iz: Walton, and Bish: Hall.

1. WHen King James sent Sr Henrie Wotton Embassador to the State of Venice, he sent also an Embassador to the King of France, and another to the King of Spain. With the Embassador of France went Joseph Hall (late B. of N.) whose many and useful Works speak his great merit: with the Embassador of Spain, Ju. Wadsworth: and with Sir Henrie Wotton, William Bedel.

2. These three Chaplains to these three Em­bassadors, [Page 122] were all bred in one Ʋniversitie, all of one College, all Beneficed in one Diocese, and all most dear and entire friends. But in Spain Mr Wadsworth met with temptations or reasons, such as were so powerful as to perswade him (who of the three was formerly observed to be the most averse to that Religion that calls it self Catholick) to disdain himself a Member of the Church of Eng­land, and declare himself for the Church of Rome, discharging himself of his Attendance on the Embassador, and betaking himself to a Monasterial life; in which he lived very regularly, and so dyed.

3. When Mr Hall came into England, he wrote to Mr Wadsworth (tis the first Epistle in his Decads) to perswade his return, or the reason of his Apostacie. The Letter seemed to have many expressions of love, and yet there was something in it that was so unpleasant to Mr Wadsworth, that he chose rather to acquaint his old friend Mr Be­del with his Motives.

4. By which means there past between Mr Be­del and Mr Wadsworth very many Letters, which be extant in print, and did well deserve it: for in them there seems to be a controversie, not of Reli­gion only, but, who should answer each other with most love and meeknesse. Which I mention the ra­ther, because it seldome falls out so in a Book-war.

5. Mr Hall in an Epistle to Mr Bedel at Venice, [Page 123] having lamented the death of our late Divines, addeth: What should this work in us, but an imitation, yea (that word is not too big for you) an emulation of their worthinesse? The Church, our Mother, looks for much at your hands: She knows how rich our common Father hath left you: She notes your graces, your oportunities, your imployments: She thinks you are gone so far, like a good Merchant, for no small gain, and looks you shall come home well laded. Let me perswade you to gratifie us at home with the publication of that your exquisite Polemical Discourse, whereto our conference with Mr Ala­blaster gave so happy an occasion. You shall hereby clear many truths, and satisfie all Readers: yea I doubt not, but an Adversarie, not too perverse, shall acknowledge the truths victory and Yours.

6. In a Letter of Sir Henrie Wotton's to the King, is mentioned a Petition to his Majestie from persons directed hither by the good wishes of the Arch-bishop of Armagh, to make Mr Be­del (then Resident upon a small Benefice in Suffolk) Governour of Dublin College for the good of that Society. And Sir Henrie himself being required to render some testimonie of Mr Bedel, long his Chaplain at Venice, in the time of his first employment there, goeth on thus: [Page 124] I am bound in all conscience of truth (so far as your Majestie will vouchsafe to accept my poor judgment) to affirm of him, that I think hardly a fitter man for that charge, could have been propounded unto your Majestie in your whole Kingdom, for singular erudition and pietie, con­formitie to the Rites of the Church, and zeal to advance the Cause of God: wherein his Travels abroad were not obscure, in the time of the excommunication of the Vene­tians.

7. Then he certifies the King: This is the Man whom Padre Paulo took, I may say, into his very soul; with whom he did communicate the inwardest thoughts of his heart; from whom he professed to have received more knowledge in all Divinitie, both Scholastical and Positive, than from any that he had ever practised in his daies. Of which all the passages were well known to the King your Father of most blessed Memory.

8. And so he concludes in these words: With your Majesties good favour I end this needlesse office: for the general fame of his learning, his life, and Christian temper, and those religious labours which himself hath Dedicated to your Majestie, do better describe him then I am able.

9. Mr Bedel was (to the great joy of Sir Henrie Wotton) made Governor of the said Colledg: and, after a fair discharge of his duty and trust there, he was thence removed to be Bishop of Kilmore. In both which places, his life was so holy, as seemed to equal the primitive Christi­ans: for, as they, so he kept all the Ember­weeks, observed (besides his private devotions) the Canonical hours of prayer very strictly; and so he did all the Feasts and Fast-daies of his Mother the Church of England: his patience and charitie were both such, as shewed his affecti­ons were set upon things above.

10: Indeed his whole life brought forth the fruits of the Spirit, there being in him such a remarkablenesse, that he had a good report of those that were without. Those that in point of Religion were of the Roman perswasion (of which there were many in his Diocese) did yet ever look upon him with respect and reverence; and testified it by a concealing and safe ptotecting him, in the late horrid Rebellion in Ireland: when the furie of the wild Irish knew no distinction of persons, yet there and then was he protected and cherished by those of a contrarie perswasion; and there and then he dyed, though not by violence.

11. With him were lost many of his learned Writings, which were worthy of preservation: and, among the rest, was lost the Bible, which, by many years labour and conference and study, he had translated into the Irish Tongue, with an intent to have printed it for publick use.

IX. M. ANT. de DOMINIS, Dean of Windsor.
Out of Dr Barwick.

1 ABout the year 1618. there came over into England that very learned, though unfortunate man, Marcus Antonius de Dominis, Arch-bishop of Spalato, Primate of Dalmatia, &c. Which, (as he was wont to glory,) was St Hieroms Native Country, as well as his.

2. This great Scholar, (after he had so pro­foundly asserted the truth of Christian Religion, as it is professed and practised in the Church of England, in so many particulars against the errors and Corruptions of the See of Rome, in his Learned and laborious books, De Republica Eccle­siastica; and had also from the Kings bounty received so great incouragements for his honora­ble supports, as the Deanry of Windsour and Mastership of the Savoy, besides many rich and yearly presents, not only from the Bishops and Clergy, but also from the Nobilitie and Gentrie.) Was so far wrought upon by that Polititian Count Gondamar, the Spanish Embassador then in Eng­land, and other instruments of the See of Rome, (that sought his ruin under some specious pre­tences,) as to take up a resolution of returning to Rome; and could not be disswaded from it by his true friends, that really endeavoured his security. Among whom Bishop Morton was neither the least nor last, who very earnestly ad­vised him, both by word and writing, no [...] to ven­ture himself upon such a hopelesse and h [...]ssardous journy.

3. The Arch-bishops pretence was very plau­sible and commendable (and how real he was in, it, must be left to God,) namely▪ to negotiate an unitie in Religion between the Church of Rome [Page 129] and the Church of England, upon those moderate grounds which he had laid down, and so well defended in his learned and laborious Works printed here at London. He applauded himself in the excellency of the work, in removing the Schism; and of the honour in becoming a Re­pairer of the breach, and of the reward which is promised to the peace makers. And he thought himself the more likely to go through with his work, by reason of the seasonable opportunitie he had at that time, when Gregorie the fifteenth was newly chosen Pope who had been of his old and intimate acquaintance, brought up in the same School and College with him. And however, he was resolved to make an attempt; because if he failed in it, he hoped he should lose nothing but his labour; for as for his Indemnitie, Count Gondamar had promised him the securitie of the King of Spain his Master. But how well that promise was perform'd, will appear by the Sequel.

4. While he was swelled up full with this promise and these hopes, Dr Morton the Bishop of Lichfield and Coventrie coming to visit him, had this ensuing discourse with him▪ (among many others) which I have often heard him repeat with pleasure, and shall therefore insert it; and the rather, because it shews us of how [Page 130] little authority the Council of Trent would be, if it were not for the terrour of the inquisition. Leichf. Domine quid tibi in animo est? Anne con­vertere Papam? Atque etiam conclave papale? Spal: Quid ni domine? Anne existimas eos dia­bolo [...] esse, ut non possint converti? Leichf: Minime Domine; nec puto dominum Spalatensum deum esse ut hoc possit praestare: Nostin enim concilium Tri­dientinum. Spal. Novi domine, & ausus sum tibi dicere, Millies Mille sunt, etiam in Italia, qui huic concilio fidem nullam adhibeant.

5. This discourse (and many other) having passed between them, they parted friendly. And not long after did this Bishop reinforce his argu­ments, with an addition of m [...]ny more, in a long and learned Epistle to him. Wherein, (among other Motives to diss [...]ade him from his journy) he used one, wherein he shewed himself a true Prophet, concerning the entertainment he was like to have at Rome. Which proved to be, that before he g [...]t to Rome Pope Gregorie the fifteenth his old friend, was dead, and a successor chosen in his pl [...]ce; by whom this Arch-bishop was impriloned in Castro St Angelo. Where he died, not without strong suspition of murder or poyson: And his body was afterward burnt, (as of an He­retick▪) in Campo Fl [...]ri.

6. I could here start a problematical question concerning this learned Arch bishop. Whether or no did he ever retract his works, which he pulished in print? If he did, why did they at Rome bu [...]n his body for Heresie? If not, then they abused him in his life time, as well as after his death, in the manifesto which they put forth in his name, which was so learnedly answered by Dr Crakanthrop. There is but one way of avoiding this Dilemma, (and that will bring them into a greater strait than either of the other,) namely, That they burnt him after his death for what he retracted in his life time; and if they own this, they must withal proclaim their unjustice▪ [...]nd cruelty to the world. Let them take it in which sense they will, his reasons and arguments laid down and urged in his learned works will more condemn their cause than the altering of his opi­nion, ( supposing but not granting that he ever altered it,) can tend to their advantage. [...]is many clear and convincing Authorities, from the holy Scriptures, Councels, argumentative to any indifferent person that is not [...]ilfully pre­possest; then his own dubious perhaps impo­sed) autho [...]ity can countervail.

7. His Manifesto, (if it was his) consisteth only in affirming or denying in bare words: in his Works, whatsoever is affirmed or denyed, [Page 132] is backt with such convincing and irrefragable arguments, as no man hath taken the boldnesse in above fortie years since they were written, to undertake the answering of them.

X. Mr ABRAHAM WHEELOCK.

1. THe excellent Mr Wheelock was de­scended of honest plain Parents in the Country: by whose pious care he was bred up at School, till he was sufficiently furnished with good learning and ripe years to salute the Universitie. At which time he was sent to Kings College in Cambridge: where he was so sedulous and studious, especially in the Or [...]ental Languages, Hebrew, Arabick, Persian, &c. that he o [...]d not sooner obtain Degr [...]es th [...]n Fame, both in the University and a­broad.

2 After he had some years enjoyed the Degree of Master of Arts in the [...]niversity, Sir Henrie Spelman, that rare Antiquary and [Page 134] lover of his Country, did allow to him an An­nual stipend of thirtie pounds, to explain the Saxon Tongue publickly in the Schools: and the Noble Sir Thomas Adams Alderman of London did, as long as M [...] Wheelock lived, con­stantly confe [...] upon him fortie pounds per annum for the maintenance of an Arabick Lecture, which M [...] Wheelock likewise read publickly. And this they did, not only out of th [...]t respect, which they owed to the Ʋniversitie, but out of the great esteem they had of Mr Wheelock's wo [...]th and merits: for, being assured of his great Abilities, they thought it not meet that so clear a l [...]ght should be hid, but shine forth for the common benefit.

3. After this, in the year 1644, he set forth Venerable Bede's Historie in Saxon and Latin, with the addition of his own learned Notes.

4. The ne [...]t thing he attempted was to tran­sl [...]te the Persian Evangelists into Latin: which he performed, and began to print some few chapters in Persian and Latin at London; whither he was called to be an helper in that great wo [...]k of the Biblia Polyglotta set out by that famous Pillar of learning and religion Dr Brian Walton, l [...]te L. Bishop of Chester. But Mr Wheelock lived only so long as to see a Specimen of the no [...] ­mentioned Biblia, and not any entire part of it published.

5. Here I must not omit, that, notwithstand­ing the eminencie of his learning, and the great esteem he had among persons of excellent worth, he was of such an humble deportment, even to the meanest of those that addressed themselves unto him, that I think, without prejudice to any other, in this particular he was the Phaenix of his age.

6. He dyed at London, being about 60 years of age, and lyeth buried in St Botolphs Church near Aldersgate.

7. I only adde the grateful Testimonie of lear­ned Wase in the Preface to his exact Dictionary: Clariss. Dominus Wheelocus, Vir mihi totique Ju­ventuti Cantabrigiensi cum honore memorandus, ut communis Doctor ac Pater; linguae [...]ax. idem ac Orientalium, imprimis vero Arabicae professor pub­licus.