I. Dr. JOSEPH HALL Bishop of Norwich.

1. HE was noted for a sin­gular Wit from his youth; a most acute Rhetorician, and an elegant Poet. Two yeares toge­ther he was chosen Rhetorick-Professor in the University of Cambridge, and performed the Office with extraordinary ap­plause.

2. Whil'st he was the pri­vate Pastor first of Halsted in Suffolk, and after at Waltham in Essex, he preached thrice a [Page 2] week in a constant course; yet (as himself witnesseth) never durst clime up into the Pulpit to preach any Sermon, where­of he had not before penn'd e­very word in the same order, wherein he hoped to deliver it: although in his expressions he was no slave to syllables, neither made use of his Notes.

3. It is well known in this City, how forward he was to Preach in any of our Churches, till he was first forbidden by men, and at last disenabled by God. And when he could not Preach himself; this learned Ga­maliel was not content onely, but very diligent to sit at the feet of the youngest of his Di­sciples; as diligent an Hearer as he had been a Preacher.

3. In his employment to the Synod of Dort, he had great re­spect there from the Forreign Divines and States. And in those unhappy Disputes he shewed excellent Moderation. Concerning which, he after­ward drew up such a Collecti­on of accorded Truths, as was offered to be subscribed by some of the most eminent on both sides. Which reconciliatory Papers then unhappily buried, are very much desired, and may be hoped for in time; together with an account of his life, writ­ten by himself.

5. What Nazianzene said of Basil may be applied to him; Et eruditis pietate, & pits erudi­tionis laude antecelluit. Those that were most eminent for [Page 4] Learning he excelled in Piety, and those that were most fa­mous for Piety he excelled in Learning.

6. He was a rare Mirrour of Patience under all his Crosses, which toward his latter end were multiplied upon him. I have heard him oft bewail the spoils of the Church, but very seldome did he so much as men­tion his own losses.

6. Besides his spiritual Almes of Prayers, godly Admonitions, Comforts and holy Counsells, whereof he was very liberal, his bodily Almes were con­stant and bountifull: he gave a weekly contribution to poor Widdows, to his dying day; and by his Will, a good summe of money to the Town [Page 5] where he was born, and to this City where he died.

8. For his Children, I may say, as Ambrose of Theodosius, Non totus recessit, &c. He is not all gone; he hath left us his Sons, in whom we may yet see him and enjoy him. For his Works, I may with reverence say of them as the Psalm [...]st o [...] God's, They all praise him, because all men praise them.

II. Dr. JOHN DONNE Dean of St. Paul's.

1. HE was born in London, of good and virtuous Parents: his Father lineally de­scended from a very ancient [Page 6] Family in Wal [...]s; his Mother from the Family of the famous Sr. Thomas More, somtimes Lord Chancellour of England. But his own Learning and o­ther multipli'd merits may justly seem sufficient to dignifie both himself and posterity.

2. Being nine years of age he was sent to the University of Oxofrd; having at that time a command of the French and Latin Tongues, when others can searce speak their own.

About the fourteenth year of his age, he was transplanted to Cambridge; where (that he might receive nourishment from both soils) he stay'd til his seaventeenth year. All which time he was a most laborious Student, often changing his [Page 7] Studies. Then was he removed to London, and entred into Lin­coln's Inne, where he gave great testimonies of wit, learning, and improvement in the study of the Law.

3. About his nineteenth year, being unresolved in Religion, waving the Law, he began to survey the Body of Divinity, controverted between the Re­formed and Roman Church, and in that search & disquisiti­on, he proceeded with humility and diffidence in himself, by the safest way of frequent Prayers, and indifferent affection to both Parties. And indeed Truth had too much light a­bout her, to be hid from so sharp an enquirer; and he had too much ingenuity, not to ac­knowledge [Page 8] he had seen h [...].

4. About the twentieth year of his age, he travelled, and re­turned not into England, till he had stay'd a convenient time, first in Italy, and then in Spain; where he made many usefull observations of those Coun­treys, their Lawes and Govern­ment, and returned into Eng­land perfect in their languages.

5. Not long after his return, that exemplary pattern of wis­dome and gravity, the Lord Elsmore, Lord keeper of the Great Seal, taking notice of his Learning, Languages and other abilities, and much affe­cting both his person and con­dition, received him to be his chief Secretary, supposing it might be an Introduction to some more weighty employ­ment [Page 9] in the State: for which his Lordship often protested, he thought him very fit; and at his dismission said, he was a Se­cretary fitter for a King then a Subject.

6. Afterward, he lived many yeares with his noble Kinsman Sr. Francis Wally of Pirford, where he studied the Civil and Canon Laws: in which he acquired such a perfection, as was judged to hold some pro­portion with many, who had made that study the employ­ment of their whole life.

7. Sr. Francis being dead, he was importuned and perswa­ded by his friends, to make his residence in London: where that Honourable Gentleman Sr. Robert Drury assigned him [Page 10] a very convenient House Rent­free, next his own in Drury-Lane; and was also a dayly che­risher of his studies.

8. His Majesty had formerly both known and much valued him, and had given him some hopes of a State-employment, being much pleased, that Mr. Donne attended him, especially at his meales; where there was usually many deep discourses of Learning, and disputes of Reli­gion: and particularly at that time, concerning the Oath of Supremacy and Allegiance; which was the occasion of Mr. Donne's writing his [...]seudomar­tyr.

9. When the King had read and considered that Book, he perswaded Mr. Donne to en­ter [Page 11] into the Ministry: & though many friends mediated with his Majesty to prefer him to some Civil employment, to which his Education had apted him; yet the King denyed their requests, and having a discern­ing spirit, replyed: I know Mr. Donne is a Learned man, an excellent Divine, and will prove a powerfull Preacher.

10. Yet he deferred to enter into sacred Orders for the space of three yeares: all which time he applied himself to an inces­sant study of Textuall Divinity, and attained a greater perrfecti­on in the Learned Languages, Greek and Hebrew. And then declaring his intention to his dear friend Dr. King, the then worthy Bishop of London, that [Page 12] Reverend Bishop most gladly received the newes, and with all convenient speed ordained him Deacon and Priest.

11. Now all his studies (which were occasionally dif­fus'd) were concentred in Di­vinity: Now he had a new cal­ling, new thoughts, new em­ployment for his wit and elo­quence. Now all his earthly affections were changed into divine love, and all the facul­ties of his Soul were engaged in the conversion of others, in preaching glad tidings, remis­sion to repenting sinners, and peace to each troubled Soul: preaching the word so, as shew­ed he was possest with those joys that he laboured to distill into others: a preacher in ear­nest; [Page 13] weeping sometimes for [...]is Auditory, sometimes with [...]hem; alwayes preaching to [...]imself like an Angel from a Cloud, though in none; carry­ [...]ng some (as Paul was) to heaven [...]n holy raptures; enticing o­ [...]hers by a sacred art and court­ [...]hip to amend their lives; and [...]ll this with a most particular grace, and an unimitable fa­shion of speaking.

12. Presently after he entred into his holy Profession, the King made him his Chaplain in Ordinary, and gave him o­ther encouragements, promi­sing to take a care of him: And that summer attending his Ma­jesty at Cambridge, the King was pleased to recommend him to be made Doctor in Divinity; [Page 14] which the University presently granted, expressing a gladnesse, they had an occasion to entitle and write him theirs.

13. His abilities and indu­stry in his profession were so e­minent, and he so much loved by many persons of quality, that within one year after his entrance into sacred Orders, he had fourteen Advousons of several Benefices sent him: but he desired rather some prefer­ment that might fix him in Lon­don

14. And there he was im­portuned by the grave Ben­chers of Lincoln's-Inne (once the friends of his youth) to ac­cept of their Lecture, which by reason of Mr. Gataker's removal, was then void: of [Page 15] which he accepted: nor did he preach onely, but was an ocular direction to them, by a holy and harmlesse conversation.

15. Three yeares after, by a special command from his Ma­jesty, Dr. Donne attended the Ambassadour sent by the King, to reconcile some differences in Germany: and about a year after his return, the Deanary of Paul's being vacant, the King appointed him to wait upon him at dinner the next day: and his Majestie being set down, be­fore he eat any meat, said after his pleasant manner; Dr. Donne. I have invited you to dinner, and though you sit not down with me, yet I will carve to you of a dish that I know you love: you love London well; I doe therefore [Page 16] make you Dean of Paul's: Take your meat home to your study, say grace, and much good may it doe you.

16. He was once (and but once) clouded with the King's displeasure, occasioned by some malicious whisperer, who assured the King, D. Donne had preached a Sermon that im­plyed a dislike of his Govern­ment, particularly of his late direction, that the Evening Le­ctures on Sundayes should be turned into Catechizing. The King sent presently for the Do­ctor, and required his answer; which was so satisfactory, that the King said, he was glad he rested not under that suspition: and calling some Lords of his Council, added with much [Page 17] earnestnesse; My Doctor is an honest man: and, my Lords, I was never more joyed in any thing that I have done, then in making him a Divine.

17. He was made Dean in the fiftieth year of his age, and in the fifty fourth a dangerous sicknesse seized upon him, which turned to a Spotted Fea­ver: But God preserved his Spirit, keeping his intellectuals clear and perfect; and as his health encreased, so did his thankfulnesse, testified in his Book of Devotions, a Compo­sition of Holy Extasies, occasi­oned and appliable to the E­mergencies of that sicknesse.

18. The latter part of his life was a continued study, Sa­turdays only excepted, which he [Page 18] usually spent in visiting friend [...] and resting himself under the weary burthen of his weeks Meditations: And he gave himself this rest, that thereby he might be refreshed and enabled to doe the work of the day fol­lowing, not negligently, but with courage and cheerfulness.

19. Nor was his Age onely so industrious, but in his most unsettled youth, he was (being in health) never known to be in bed after four of the clock in the morning, nor usually out of his Chamber till ten; and employed that time constantly (if not more) in his study. The recreations of his youth were Poetry: in which he was so happy, as if nature with all her varieties had been made to ex­ercise [Page 19] his great wit and high [...]ncy. But, in his penitential [...]eares, viewing some of those [...]ieces loosly scattered in his [...]outh, he wisht they had been [...]bortive. And yet was he not [...]o faln out with heavenly Po­ [...]try, as to forsake it, no not in [...]isdeclining age, witnessed then [...]y many divine sonnets, and [...]ther high, holy and harmoni­ [...]us Composures.

20. He left the Resultance of 1400 Authours, most of [...]hem analyzed with his own hand: He left 120 Sermons al­so, all writ with his own hand: A large and laborious Treatise called [...], wherein all the Laws violated by that Act of Self-murther are diligently sur­veyed, and judiciously censu­red; [Page 20] a Treatise written in hi [...] youth. All businesses of con­sequence in this and the neigh­bouring Kingdomes, he abbre­viated, and kept by him for [...] Memorial: so did he the Co­pies of divers Letters and Case [...] of Conscience that had concer­ned his friends, with his soluti­ons. A private yearly account, wherein he computed first his Revenue, then his Expenses, then what was given to th [...] poor and pious uses, lastly what rested for him and his: blessing each yeares remainder with a thankfull prayer. As, An [...] 1626.—So this year God hath blessed me and mine with— Multiplicatae sunt super nos misericordiae tuae, Domine. D [...], Domine, ut quae ex immensa bo­nitate [Page 21] tua nobis clargiri dignatus [...]s, in quorumcunque manus de­ [...]enerint, in tuam semper [...]da [...]t [...]loriam. Amen.

21. He redeemed many out [...]f Prison, that lay for small [...]ebts or for their sees: He was [...] continuall giver to poor [...]chollars, both of this and For­eign Nations: Besides what he [...]ave with his own hand, he [...]sually sent a servant to all the Prisons in London, to distribute [...]is charity at all Festival times [...]n the year. He gave 100 l. at [...]ne time to a Gentleman decay­ed. He repaired the Chappell of his House. He was a happy reconciler of differences among his friends and kindred.

22. In his last sicknesse he sent for many of his most con­siderable [Page 22] friends, of whom he took a solemn and deliberate Farewell; commending to their considerations some sen­tences particularly usefull for the regulation of their lives, and dismist them with a spiri­tuall Benediction. At his last hour he said, I were miserable, if I might not die: and closed many periods of his faint breath with these words, Thy King­dome come, Thy will be done: And as his last breath departed, and his Soul ascended, he clo­sed his own eyes, and then dis­posed his hands and body into such a posture, as required no alteration of those that came to shroud him..

Ob. ult. Mart. 1631. aetat. 59.

III. Sir W [...]ILIAM COKAIN Alderman of London.

1. THough he were of Pa­rents of a good, of a great Estate, yet his possibility and his expectation from them did not slacken his own instustry; which is a Canker that eats in­to, nay that hath eat up many a Family in this City, that rely­ing wholly upon what the Fa­ther hath done, the Son doth nothing for himself. And truly it falls out too often, that he that labours not for more, does not keep his own. God imprin­ted in him an industrious dispo­sition, though such hopes from his Parents might have excused [Page 24] some slacknesse: and God pros­pered his industry so, as that when his Fathers Estate came to a distribution by Death, he needed it not.

2. God gave him a large and a comprehensive under­standing, and with it a publick heart: and such, as perchance in his way of Education, and in our narrow and contracted times, in which every man de­termines himself in himself, and scarce looks farther, it would be hard to find many examples of such largenesse.

3. You have, I think, a phrase of driving a Trade; and you have, I know, a practise of driving a way Trade, by other use of Money: & you have lost a man, that drove a great Trade the right way, [Page 25] in making the best use of our Home-Commodity. To fetch in Wine, and Spice, and Silk, is but a drawing of Trade; the right driving of Trade, is to vent our own outward. And yet for the drawing in of that, which might justly seem most behovefull, i. e. of Arts and Ma­nufactures, to be employed up­on our own Commodity, with­in the Kingdome, he did his part diligently, at least, if not ve­hemently, if not passionately.

4. This City is a great Thea­tre, and he acted great and vari­ous parts in it; and all well. And when he went higher (as he was often heard in Parliaments, at Council Tables, and in more private accesses to the late King of ever blessed memory) as, for [Page 26] the comprehension of those businesses, which he pretended to understand, no man doubts (for no man lacks arguments and evidences of his ability therein.) So, for his manner of expressing his intentions, and digesting and uttering his pur­poses, I have somtimes heard the greatest Master of Lan­guage and Iudgement, which these Times, or any other did, or do, or shall give (that good and great King of ours) say of him, That he never heard any man of his breeding, handle busi­nesses more rationally, more per­tinently, more elegantly, more perswasively. And when his purpose was, to do a grace ro to a Preacher of very good abi­lities, and good note in his own [Page 27] Chappell, I have heard him say, That his Language and accent, and manner of delivering him­self was like this Man.

5. God multiplied his Estate so, as was fit to endow many and great Children: and he multiplied his Children so, both in their number and in their quality, as they were fit to re­ceive a great Estate. God w [...]s with him all the way; in a pil­lar of fire, in the brightnesse of prosperity; and in the pillar of clouds too, in many dark and sad and heavy Crosses. So great a Ship required a great ballast; so many blessings, many Cros­ses: And he had them, and sailed on his course the steadier for them. The Cloud as well as the Fire was a Pillar to him: His [Page 28] Crosses as well as his Blessings establisht his assurance in God.

6. The Lord was with him at his death too. He was served with the processe here in the City, but his cause was heard in the Countrey. Here he sick­ned, there he languished, and died there. In his sicknesse there, those that assisted him are wit­nesses of his many expressings of a religious & a constant heart towards God, and of his pious joining with them, even in the holy Declaration of kneeling; then, when they, in favour of his weaknesse, would diswade him from kneeling. I must not defraud him of this Testimony from my self, that into this place where we are now met, I have observed him to enter with [Page 29] much reverence, and compose himself in this place with much declaration of devotion.

7. In his sicknesse he had but one dayes labour, and all the rest were Saboths: one day he converted to busi­nesse, thus; he called his Fa­mily and Friends together; thankfully he acknowledged God's manifold Blessings, and his own sins as penitently. And then, to those who were to have the disposing of his Estate, joint­ly with his Children, he recom­mended his servants, and the Poor, and the Hospitals, and the Prisons; which, according to his purpose, have been all taken into consideration. And after this (which was his Vale­diction to the World) he seem­ed [Page 30] alwayes loath to return to a­ny worldly businesse.

8. His last commandement to Wife and Children, was Christ's last commandement to his Spouse the Church, in the Apostles, To love one another. He blest them, & the Estate de­volved upon them, unto them: and by God's grace shall prove as true a Prophet to them in that Blessing, as he was to him­self, when in entring his last Bed, two days before his death, he said, Help me off with my earthly habit, and let me go to my last Bed. Where, in the second night after, he said, Little know ye what pain I feel this night, yet I know I shall have joy in the mor­ning: And in that morning he died.

9. The form in which he implored his Saviour, was ever­more towards his end, this; Christ Iesus, which di [...]d on the Crosse, forgive me my sins! He, have mercy upon me! And his last and dying words were the repetition of the Name Iesus. And when he had not strength to utter that Name distinctly and perfectly, they might hear it from within him, as from a man a far off; even then, when his hollow & remote naming of Iesus, was rather a certifying of them, that he was with his Iesus, then a Prayer that he might come unto him.

IV. Sr. THOMAS BODLEY.

1. I was born at Exeter in De­vonshire 2 Mar. 1544. de­scended both by Father and Mother of worshipful Parents. My father, in the time of Queen MARY, being noted & known to be an enemy to Popery, was so cruelly threatned, and so nar­rowly observed, by those that maliced his Religion, that for the [...]afeguard of himself and my Mother, who was wholly affe­cted as my Father, he knew no way so secure as to fly into Germany.

2. My Father fixed his abode in the City of Geneva; where, as far as I remember, the Eng­lish [Page 33] Church consisted of some hundred persons. I was at that time of twelve yeares of age, but through my Fathers cost and care, sufficiently instructed to become an Auditour of Che­vallerius in Hebrew, of Beroal­dus in Greek, of Calvin and Be­za in Divinity, and of some o­ther professors in that Univer­sity (which was newly then ere­cted) besides my domestick Teachers in the House of Phili­bertus Saracenus, a famous Phy­sitian in that City, with whom I was boarded; where Rober­tus Constantinus, that made the Greek Lexicon, read Homer to me.

3. In the first of Queen Eli­zabeth, my Father returned, & settled his dwelling in the City [Page 34] London. It was not long after, that I was sent away from thence to the University of Ox­ford, recommended to the teaching and tuition of Dr. Humfrey. In the year 1563 I took the degree of Batchelor of Arts; within which year I was also chosen Probationer of Mer­ton Colledge, and the next year ensuing admitted Fellow. After­wards, in the year 1565 by spe­cial perswasion of some of my Fellows, and for my private exercise, I undertook the pub­lick reading of a Greek Lecture in the same Colledge Hall, without requiring or expecting any stipend for it: Neverthe­lesse it pleased the Fellowship of their own accord to allow me soon after four marks by the [Page 35] year, and ever since to continue that Lecture to the Colledge.

4. In the year 1566 I pro­ceeded Master of Arts, and read for that year in the School­streets natural Philosophy. Af­ter which time, within lesse then three yeares space, I was won by intreaty of my best af­fected friends, to stand for the Proctorship, to which I and my Collegue were quietly elected in the year 1569, without any competition or counter-suit of any other. After this for a long time, I supplied the Office of University Oratour, and be­stowed my time in the study of sundry faculties, without any inclination to professe any one above the rest; insomuch as at last I waxed desirous to travel [Page 36] beyond the Seas, for attaining to the knowledge of some spe­cial modern Tongues, & for the encrease of my experience in the managing of affairs; being wholly then addicted to em­ploy my self and all my cares in the publick service of the State.

5. After my return, in the year 1585, I was employed by the Queen to the King of Den­marke, and to the German Prin­ces: Next, to Henry the 3 King of France: After this, in 88, for the better conduct of her Highnesse affairs in the Provin­ces United, I was thought a [...]it person to reside in those parts, and was sent thereupon to the Hague in Holland; where, accor­ding to the Contract that had formerly past between her [Page 37] Highnesse and the States, I was [...]dmitted for one of their Coun­ [...]il of Estate, taking place in [...]heir assemblies next to Count Maurice, and yielding my suf­ [...]rage in all that was proposed. During all that time, what ap­ [...]robation was given of my [...]ainfull endeavours by the Queen, Lords in England, by the States of the Country there, and [...]y all the English Soldiery, I re­ [...]er it to be notified by some o­ [...]her's Relation.

6. I received from her Ma­ [...]esty many comfortable Letters of her gracious acceptance of my diligence and care: and a­mong the Lords of the Coun­ [...]il had no man more to friend, [...]hen was the Lord Treasurer Burleigh. For when occasion [Page 38] had been offered of declaring his conceit as touching my ser­vice, he would alwayes tell the Queen (which I received from her self and some other Ear [...] witnesses) that there was not a­ny man in England so meet as my self to undergo the Office o [...] the Secretary. And sithence, his son, the present Lord Treasurer, hath signifi'd unto me in private conference, that when his Fa­ther first intended to advanc [...] him to that place, his purpose was withall to make me his Collegue: But that the day­ly provocations of the Earl o [...] Essex were so bitter and sharp a­gainst him, and his compari­sons so odious when he put [...] in a ballance, as he though [...] thereupon he had very grea [...] [Page 39] reason to use his best means, to put any man out of hope of raising his fortune, whom the Earl with such violence, to his extreme prejudice, had en­deavoured to dignifie.

7. When I had well consi­dered, how ill it did concurre with my natural disposition, to become or to be counted ei­ther a stickler or partaker in any publick faction; how well I was able, by Gods good bles­sing, to live of my self, if I could be contented with a competent lively hood; I resolved thereup­on to possesse my soul in peace all the residue of my dayes, to take my farewell of State-em­ployments, and so to retire me from the Court.

8. Now although after this, [Page 40] by her Majesties direction, I was often called to the Court, by the now Lord Treasurer, then Secretary, and required by him, & also divers times since, by or­der from the King, to serve as Ambassadour in France, and to negotiate in other very ho­nourable employments, yet I would not be removed from my former final resolution; but have continued at home my retired course of life, which is now methinks to me as the greatest preferment the State can afford.

9. This I must confesse of my self, that though I did never repent me yet of my often re­fusals of honourable offers, in respect of enriching my private Estate, yet somewhat more of [Page 41] late I have blamed my self and my nicety that way, for the love that I bear to my Reverend Mother the University of Ox­ford, and to the advancement of her good by such kind of means as I have since undertaken.

10. Having examined what course I might take, I conclu­ded at the last to set up my staff at the Library door; being throughly perswaded, that in my solitude and surcease from the Commonwealth a [...]airs, I could not busie my self to bet­ter purpose, then by reducing that place (which then in eve­ry part lay ruined and wast) to the publick use of Students.

11. For the effecting where­of, I found my self furnished in a competent proportion, of [Page 42] such four kinds of aids, as un­lesse I had them all, there was no hope of good successe. For without some kind of know­ledge, as well in the learned mo­dern tongues, as in sundry other sorts of Scholastical literature; without some purse ability to go through with the charge; without very great store of ho­nourable friends to further the design, and without special good leisure to follow such a work, it could but have pro­ved a vain attempt and incon­siderate.

12. But how well I have sped in all my endeavours, and how full provision I have made for the benefit and ease of all frequenters of the Library; that which I have already performed [Page 43] in sight; That besides, which I have given for the mainte­nance of it; and that which hereafter I purpose to adde, by way of enlargement to that place (for the project is cast, and and whether I live or die, it shall be, God willing, put in full execution) will testifie so truly and abundantly for me, as I need not be the publisher of the dig­nity and worth of mine own institution. Written with mine own hand, Anno 1609. Decem­ber 15.

Ob. Ian. 29. 1612.

V. Dr. JOHN JEWEL Bishop of Sarum.

1. AS the price and happi­nesse of Aurelius Augu­stinus his Labours and Works, the industrious vigilancy of Gregory, the heavenly gifts of Theodosius, the divine spirit of Ambrose, the golden mouth of Chrysostome, the sweet vein of Lactantius, the shining style of Fulgentius, are very conspicu­ous in their names; so here Grace in Iohn, and eminent Perfection in Iewell.

2. He was born of virtuous and religious Parents, in the County of Devon (Anno 1522. May 24) a fertile soil of many [Page 45] good Wits, and two other most eminent, of the same Colledge after him, Dr. Reynolds and Mr. Hooker.

3. His singular promptnesse of Wit and Industry accompa­nied with ingenuity and mode­sty, begat an exceeding love of him in his Master Bowin; whom afterwards, when he was Bishop, he forgat not, but most highly esteemed and bountifully rewarded all Bowins for his Masters sake.

4. He was sent to Oxford at the age of thirteen, and taken by Mr. Parkhurst of Merton Colledge to be his Postmaster, who perceiving his capacity let fall a prophetical speech of him; Surely Paul's Crosse will one day ring of this boy.

[Page 46]5. From Merton Colledge he was transplanted into Cor­pus-Christi, and there chosen before all his Seniors to read the Humanity Lecture; which he did with such diligence and facility, that many came from divers other Colledges to be­hold Rhetorick so richly set forth; among others, his Tutor Mr. Parkhurst of Merton, who after the Lecture ended, saluted Iewell with this Distick.

6. So industrious he was, that for the greatest part of the day he did himself in his Study, and so much recalled his senses from all external objects, that Chrysippus-like, he needed a Melissa to put him in mind of [Page 47] his meat. His onely Recreati­ons from studies were studious being either in instructing his Scholars, or disputing, or me­ditation.

7. As for his life and conver­sation in this slippery age, take the testimony of an adversary (equall to a general consent) the Dean of the Colledge: I should love thee, Iewell (said he) if thou wert not a Zuinglian; In thy Faith I hold thee an Heretick, but surely in thy life thou art an An­gel.

8. Peter Martyr, in the time of Edward 6. being called over, and appointed by the King Professor of Divinity in Oxford, our Iewell was his Auditour, copied out his Lectures & Ser­mons, was his Notary in that [Page 48] tumultuary disputation abou [...] the Real Presence, and in tim [...] became most intimate with him.

9. In those dayes of Peace he was noted also for an Orati­on in English pronounced in the Colledge in praise of the Foun­der, and two S [...]rmons in Latin Ad Clerum, and for his preach­ing at Sunning well, whither he went on Foot at least every fortnight.

10. At his departure from the Colledge in the conclusion of his Speech, Pardon me, good Sirs, said he, if it do grieve me to leave the place where I have been brought up, where I have lived hitherto, where I have been in some place and reckoning. But why do I stick [Page 49] to kill my heart with one word? Alass that I must speak it, as with grief I must; Valcant stu­dia, valeant haec tecta, valcat sc­des cultissimalitcrarum, valcat jucundissimus conspectus vestri, valetejuvenes, valcte soc [...]i vale­tefratres, valcte oculi mei, valcte omnes, valcte. Thus he burst out of his Speech, and his hearers burst out into tears.

11. After his expulsion, la­mentable in the manner, but glorious in the cause, he stayed himself at Broadgates Hall; where Fame of his Learning drew many Scholars unto him. In the mean time, the Colledge, by their unjust ejection of him, were punished not onely with losse, but with disgrace: For, when the Dean boasted of their [Page 50] care in preserving the Colledge­vestments and Treasure, the Arch-Deacon of Oxford answe­red, Ye have done so indeed, but ye have wilfully lost one Orna­ment and great Treasure, far more precious then any of these: alluding to the saying of Corne­lia, Mother of the Gracchi, H [...] sunt ornamenta mea, shewing her Sons to another Lady, that shewed her pearles and costly attire.

12. At this time the Uni­versity chose him for their Ora­ratour; in whose name he cu­riously penned a gratulatory Letter to Queen MARY, con­sisting of exclamations of grief for the Funeralls of King ED­WARD, and acclamations of joy for her happy Coronation. [Page 51] By which Letter, it seemeth, Mr. Iewell & others conceived good hope, that Queen MARY would not altogether change Religion. Which hope stayed him so long in Oxford, till the Inquisition caught him, and ur­ged subscription under pain of prescription and torture.

13. Here I [...]well brought in­to a strait, having no other Counsellours, but horrour without and frailty within, say­ing to them, Do you desire to see my hand, and will you try how well I can write? took the Pen and hastily writ his name, whereby he seemed to approve some Articles of Popery: But this subscribing procured not his safety; for he had been taken again, had he not by Gods pro­vidence [Page 52] gone a wrong way to London, and so escaped their hands that waited for him in the usual way: as St. Austin by the errour of his guide escaped the Donatists.

14. Pope Marcellinus wash­ed out his stian of Idolatry with tears of repentance and blood of Martyrdome: Cranmer pur­ged the polluted hand that had subscribed, with fire, before he was made an Holocaust. Ori­gen and Iewell repealed their publick subscription by publick confession and contrition. Af­ter he came to Frankford, he made an excellent Sermon, and confessed his fall, and was re­ceived there and embraced as amost dear Brother, nay, as an Angel of God.

[Page 53]15. From Frankford he was invited by the kind Letters of Peter Martyr to Argentine, where he conversed with Grin­dal, Sandys, Cheek, and other English Exiles for Religion; and assisted Martyr in the Edition of his Commentary upon Iud­ges: In whose house he spent the greatest part of his time, as a Companion of his studies, en­deavouring also sometimes to cōpose the contentions among his Brethren, somtimes to com­fort them in their afflictions, re­peating usually these words, Haec non dur abunt aetatem.

16. After his return, he was sent for to a Disputation at West­minster. The Theses were, 1. That it is repugnant to the Word of God, and custome of the Pri­mitive [Page 54] Church, that Church-ser­vice and Liturgy should be per­formed in an unknown Tongue. 2. That every Church hath power to alter Rites and Ceremo­nies for her better edification. 3. That the propitiatory sacrifice of the Masse for quick and dead hath no warrant in the Word of God. But the Disputation was broke off, & Religion settled by the Parliament.

17. Iewell was appointed for the Visitation of the Western Churches: and so it fell out ve­ry fitly, that he presented his first labours in the Ministry af­ter his return, in Devonshire and parts adjacent; there first break­ing the bread of life, where first he received the breath of life. After which Visitation, he was [Page 55] consecrated Bishop of Sarisbu­ry with much reluctancy, often repeating the Apostle's words, Qui desiderat Episcopatum, de­siderat opus.

18. And surely, if ever to any, then unto him was his Bi­shoprick a continual work: such was his care, that his Church should sustain no losse; such his pains in Governing and in Preadhing, that abuses might not grow by the negligence or corruption of Officials. He sate often himself with his Chancel­lour, and was president in his Consistory: where though he were a strict executor of Ec­clesiastical Lawes, yet no doubt he temper'd severity with that lenity which he exhorted B. Parkhurst to in a certain Letter: [Page 56] Let your Chancellour (saith he) be harder, but you easier; let him wound, but do you heal; let him lance, doe you plaister. Wisecle­mency will doe more good, then rigid severity: One man may move more with an Engine, then six with the force of their hands.

19. When his friends ad­monished him to lighten his over-heavy burden of ruling & instructing every particular Church in his Diocese, by Sub­stitutes and Coadjutors, he re­plyed; Vnlearned men can doe me no good, and to the Learned I can doe no good: I have no Be­nefices in my gift to maintain them: Capon my predecessour hath devoured all. This Capon, unhappily understanding that of St. Paul, as one is said to have [Page 57] read it, Qui desider at Episcopa­tum bonum, opes desider at, made havock of all the good Livings in his Diocese, enriching himself, & leaving the Bishoprick poor.

20. In all the time of his Bishoprick, scarce any year passed, which was not made noble and illustrious by some work of his. The year 1560. began with his noble challenge at Paul's Cross [...], and ended with his confutation of Dr. Cole. His Apology, begun in the year 61, and per [...]ected 62, was made so much of by all Protestants, that it was translated almost into all Tongues. The years 64 and 65, were renowned for his and Mr. Harding's contentions a­bout the forenamed challenge: In which time also he was so­lemnly [Page 58] created Doctor, and bare the part of a Moderatour in those famous Acts, conclu­ded with a divine speech of Queen ELIZABETH: His Defense fell in the years 66 and 67. After which time divers Learned Books were dedicated to him by Martyr, Bullinger and others: and himself inten­ded divers other excellent Works; but death prevented the birth of them,

20. He recreated himself at his meals (a Chapter being first read) with School-disputes of young Boyes, whom he main­tained at his Table. After din­ner, his doors and eares were open to all suits and causes. After businesses dispatcht, he re­tired to his study: About nine [Page 59] he called all his Servants to ac­count, how they had spent the day; and after prayers admoni­shed them accordingly: Then to his study again, oft-times till midnight; and so to Bed: wherein after some part of an Authour read unto him by the Gentleman of his Bed chamber, commending himself to the protection of his Saviour, he took his rest.

21. His memory was admi­rable, raised by Art to the high­est pitch. For he could repeat faithfully any thing he had pen­ned, as he had penned it, after once reading; and therefore usually at the ringing of the Bell, began to commit his Ser­mons to heart. Many barba­rous hard names and strange [Page 60] words, after once or twice reading and short meditating, he could repeat backward and forward. This Art of Memory he taught his old Tutor Mr. Parkhurst beyond the Sea; so that in a short time, spending but one hour in a day at it, he learned all the Gospel back­ward and forward by this arti­ficial Memory.

22. His continual labours brought his body so low, that as he rode abroad to preach, a Gentleman advised him to re­turn home for his health sake, saying, it was better the people should want one Sermon, then be deprived of such a Preacher; but he replyed, It becomes a Bi­shop to dye in the Pulpit. To one weeping at his bed side, he used [Page 61] the words of Ambrose; I have not so lived, that I am ashamed to live longer; neither doe I fear to die, because we have a merci­full Lord.

23. In his Will, he considered his Brother and friends with some kind remembrances, but bestowed the rest most li­berally upon his servants, schol­lars, and the poor of Sarum.

24. Before his death, he called his houshold about him, and after an exposition of the Lord's Prayer, among others used these words; It was my Prayer alwayes to almightie God, since I had any understanding, that I might honour his Name with the sacrifice of my flesh, and confirm his Truth with the oblation of this my body unto [Page 62] death in the defense thereof; which seeing he hath not gran­ted me in this, yet I some what rejoice and solace my self, that it is worn away and exhausted in the labours of [...]y holy Calling. Mr. R [...]dley, the Steward of his House, shut his eyes in the year of our Lord 1571. Sept. 22. a­bout three of the clock in the afternoon.

Anno aetat. 50.

VI. Mr. GEORGE HERBERT.

1. BEing nobly born, and a [...] ­eminently endued with gifts of the mind; and having by industry and happy educati­on [Page 63] perfected them to a great ex­cellency (whereof his Fellow­ship in Trinity Colledge in Cam­bridge, & his Oratourship in the University; together with that knowledge the Kings Court had taken of him, are eviden­ces:) quitting all opportuni­ties that he had for worldly pre­ferment, he betook himself to the Sanctuary, choosing rather to serve at God's Altar, then to seek the honour of State-em­ployments.

2. To testifie his indepen­dency upon all others, and to quicken his diligence in the Mi­nistry, he used in his ordinary speech, when he made menti­on of the blessed name of Iesus Christ, to adde, My Master.

3. Next God, he loved that [Page 64] which God himself hath mag­nified above all things, i. e. his Word: so as he hath been heard to make solemn Protesta­tion, That he would not part with one leaf thereof for the whole World, if it were offered him in exchange.

4. His obedience and con­formity to the Church and the discipline thereof, was singular­ly remarkable. Though he a­bounded in private devotions, yet went he every morning and evening with his Family to the Church; and by his example, exhortations and encourage­ments drew the greater part of his Parishioners to accompany him dayly in the publick cele­bration of Divine service.

5. As for worldly matters, [Page 65] his love and esteem to them was so little, as no man can more ambitiously seek, then he did earnestly endeavour the re­signation of an Ecclesiasticall dignity, which he was possessor of. But God permitted not the accomplishment of his desire, having ordained him his Instru­ment, for r [...]edifying the Church belonging thereunto.

6. With the remembrance whereof, as of an especial good work, when a friend went a­bout to comfort him on his death bed, he made answer; It is a good work, if it be sprinkled with the blood of Christ.

7. We conclude with his Motto, with which he used to conclude all things, that might seem to tend any way to his own [Page 66] honour; Lesse then the least of Gods mercies.

VII. Dr. JAMES USSHER Arch-Bishop of Armagh.

1. HE had constantly prayers in his Family four times a day. At six in the morning, and eight at night, they were such, wherein the gifts of those who were his Chaplains were exercised: but before dinner & supper in the Chappell, the Li­turgy was constantly observed▪ which he had in estimation to his last.

2. A form of Prayer, not onely by way of direction, but [Page 67] punctually composed, he ever [...]udged to conduce to the pub­ [...]ik benefit, especially in the Ad­ministration of Baptism and the Communion: as well for the shnning and preventing the disorder and scandalous con­ [...]usion found in some mens per­formance of them, as the testi­ [...]ying of an unity and unanimi­ [...]y among us, which St. Paul [...]refers as the more excellent way, before the vanity of all spi­rituall gifts whatsoever. Con­cerning which, he wished the [...]udgement of Calvin (in his Letter to the Protectour) were more known then it is, in re­gard of his esteem with such as have opposed it.

3. For Ordination, or an ordained Ministry, such was his [Page 68] judgement of the necessity of it▪ that he took it to be a Fund­mental, and one of those pri [...] ­ciples of Christian Doctri [...] ( Heb. 6. 2.) called, laying on [...] hands. The great neglect [...] which he much lamented, [...] fearing it would prove to b [...] the undermining the founda [...] ­on of our Church; which [...] Cartwright, in his Comment [...] ­ry upon the place, confirms t [...] the full, and in a higher expre [...] ­sion, as if it were the overthro [...] of Christianity.

4. What his judgement was [...] the use of the Lords Prayer, h [...] practise shewed it in the co [...] ­stant concluding of his Pray before Sermon with it. And h [...] approbation of that gesture [...] kneeling at the Communio [...] [Page 69] as often apparent before ma­ [...] witnesses.

5. For Confirmation of chil­ [...]en (which Calvin, Beza and o­ [...]ers much commend, & wish it [...]ere restored) he was not want­ [...]ng in observation of it, as an an­ [...]ent laudable custome. And [...]s Benediction was seconded [...]ith good and spirituall instru­ [...]ion, that stuck to the children [...]hen they came to further years.

6. The Church Catechism, [...]espised by some for its plainess, [...]e thought therefore to be the [...]ore profitable to the vulgar, [...]nd gave order it should every [...]ords day in the afternoon be [...]xplained.

7. He was indeed, as Eras­ [...]us saith of St. Austin, Vivi­ [...]um quoddā exemplar Episcopi, [Page 70] omnibus virtutū numeris absolu­tum. And I wish all that have [...] reverent opinion of him, would show it, in taking his spirit o [...] Moderation for their Copy.

VIII Mr. JOHN HALES.

1. MR Iohn Hales, some­time (Fellow of Merto [...] Colledge &) Greek Professou [...] of the University of Oxford, long Fellow of Eton Colledge, and at last also Prebendary of Windsore, was a man, I think, of as great a sharpnesse, quick­nesse, and subtilty of Wit, as e­ver this, or perhaps any Nation bred.

[Page 71]2. His industry did strive, if [...] were possible, to equall the [...]argeness of his capacity: where­ [...]y he became as great a Master [...] polite, various and universal [...]earning, as ever yet converst with Books.

3. Proportionate to his Read­ [...]ng was his Meditation, which [...]urnished him with a judgement [...]eyond the vulgar reach of [...]an, built upon unordinary Notions, raised out of strange [...]bservations and comprehen­ [...]ive thoughts within himself. So that he really was a most pro­ [...]igious example of an acute & [...]iercing Wit, of a vast and illi­ [...]mited knowledge, of a severe [...]nd profound judgement.

4. Yet, had he never under­ [...]tood a Letter, he had other. [Page 72] Ornaments sufficient to endear him. For he was of a nature (as we ordinarily speak) so kind, so sweet, so courting all mankind; of an affability so prompt, so ready to receive all conditions of men, that I con­ceive it were as easie a task for any one to become so know­ing as so obliging.

5. As a Christian, none more ever acquainted with the nature of the Gospel, because none more studious of the know­ledge of it, or more curious in the search; which being strengthned by those great ad­vantages before mentioned, could not prove other then highly effectual.

6. He took indeed to him­self a liberty of judging, not of [Page 73] others, but for himself: and if ever any man might be allow­ed in these matters to judge, it was he, who had so long, so much, so advantageously con­sider'd; & which is more, never had the least worldly design in his determinations.

7. He was not only most truly and strictly just in his se­ [...]cular transactions, most ex­ [...]emplarily meek and humble, notwithstanding his perfecti­ons, but beyond all example charitable, giving unto all, pre­serving nothing but his Books, to continue his learning and himself: which, when he had before digested, he was forced at last to feed upon, at the same time the happiest and most un­fortunate helluo of Books; the [Page 74] grand example of Learning, and of the Envy and contempt which followeth it.

8. While he lived none was ever more sollicited and urged to write, and thereby truly to teach the world, then he; none ever so resolved (pardon the expression, so obstinate) against it. His facile and courteous na­ture learnt only not to yield to that sollicitation. And yet he cannot be accused for hiding of his Talent, being so commu­nicative, that his Chamber was a Church, and his Chair a Pul­pit.

9. Onely that there migh [...] some Taste continue of him▪ some of his Remains were col­lected, such as he could not but write, and such as when [Page 75] written, were out of his power to destroy. These consist of two parts, of Sermons, and of Letters: and each of them proceeded from him upon respective obligations. The Letters, though written by himself, yet were wholly in the power of that Honourable person to whom they were sent, and by that means they were preserv'd. The Sermons preached on several occasions were snatcht from him by his friends, and in their hands, the Copies were continued, or by transcription disperst.

10. As to those Cut of Mr. Fa­ringtons Letter. Letters written from the Synod of Dort, take notice that in his younger days he was a Calvinist, and even [Page 76] then when he was employed at that Synod, and at the well pressing Io, 3. 16. by Episcopus, There I bid Iohn Calvin Good Night, as he has after told me. I have drawn in my mind the model of his Life: but I am like Mr. Hales in this, which was one of his defects, not to pen any thing, till I needs must.

IX. R. EVELYN.

D. ARTHUR LAKE, Bishop of Bath and Wells.

1. THis Holy man was nour­sed up from his tender age in the exercises of true pie­ty, and in the studies of various and exquisite learning, and in his riper years advanced to di­vers eminent places of dignity in the Church, not by any am­bitious suit or seeking of his own, but by the special provi­dence of God, beyond his ex­pectation or desire raised to the height of Episcopal Dig­nity.

2. He was first placed a Child in the famous School of Win­chester, thence elected Fellow in New Colledge in Oxford, and after Fellow in the Col­ledge [Page 87] neer Winchester: thence again recalled by the conspiring Votes of that numerous Socie­ty to the Warden-ship of New Colledge. Afterward, prefer­red first to the prefecture of the Hospital of S. Crosses neer Win­chester, then to the Deanry of the Cathredral Church of Wor­cester. And lastly to the Bishop­rick of Bath and Wells where he dyed.

3. He continued the same in his Rocket, which he had been in his Scholars Gown, ha­ving so well studied Humility (the basis of all vertue) in his younger years, that in the whole course of his life there was no tumour of pride appeared, but as well in his actions as in his speeches, equalling himself [Page 88] with the lowest; not withstand­ing the many temptations he had both from the eminency of his place & excellency of his parts to do & speak otherwise. From this did proceed that sin­gular Affability and easinesse of accesse, which he ever retained to all sorts of men, & to those of his own Coat especially: so that no man can say, he was ever sleighted, or superciliously used by him.

4. Adde hereunto his rare Tranquillity and Contentednesse of minde. He retained the same temper in all the alterations of his estate; So that whatsoever outwardly befell him, either to the better or the worser part, he seemed very little to be affe­cted, surely nothing disquieted [Page 89] there withall. A strange serenity of mind in him; whereof I take it also to have been a good ar­gument, that (as I have often heard him say) so long as he was in perfect health of his body, he did never dream.

5. His Temperance was such, that at the greatest and best fur­nished tables, whereat the con­dition of his place required his presence, his feeding was com­monly upon one dish and that none of the daintiest. And when he was not hindred by resort of strangers unto him, he fasted usually four times in the week from his supper, and spent that time in framing some Meditation or other upon a piece of Holy Scripture.

6. Unlesse it were in the [Page 90] company of Scholars, and in such ingenious & pleasant Dis­courses as are incident thereto (wherein he would sometimes expresse much freedome of in­nocent mirth) a man could not observe, that he took much delight in any worldly thing whatsoever: an evident argu­ment, that his intellectual part had the predominancy over his sensual, or rather indeed that Grace ruled them both, and that the Man in him was sub­ordinate to the Christian.

7. As he had been alwayes liberal, from the time he had a­ny thing to give; so upon the increase of his fortunes he im­proved that virtue, even to a kind of Magnificence. And though his forwardnesse in gi­ving [Page 91] never let him stay till his purse was full, so that he attain­ed not to the doing of any pom­pous work: yet his ordinary largesse to the poor at his Ga [...]e and in the streets; his Contri­butions to pious works of all sorts; his Exhibitions to poor Scholars both abroad and in the University; his encreasing the allowance of the poor Bre­thren of S. Cross; his maintan­ing of two Lectures in New Colledge in Oxford, one for the Hebrew Tongue, another for the Mathematicks; (A great part of his books, he disposed to the Library of New Colledge by a deed of gift, divers years before his death, reserving the use of them onely for his life time.) his leading the way to the [Page 92] founding of a Library at Wor­cester, and another at Wells, are sufficient instances of his ex­ceeding Bounty.

8. His Contempt of VVealth I may reckon as a part of his Magnanimity. I dare say, that in all Elections of Scholars, Collation of Orders, and Bene­fices, Dispositions of Offices, and Grants of Colledge and Church-Leases, that passed through his hands (as there passed in his time very many) he never fouled them with the least touch of a Gehaz [...]'s re­ward, which integrity of his, together with his open▪hand▪dednesse and House-keeping, were the onely Causes that he left no greater Estate behind him.

[Page 93]9. His Ability to teach, as it was very great, so did it never appear more, then after he was a Bishop. For though the acts of government alone may seem sufficient to take up a man in that place: yet he never ceas'd to adorn the Pulpit with his no less frequent and assiduous, then learned and pious labours. Witnesse his ordinary preach­ing in the Cathedral Church of VVells; his frequent excursions into the Parishes adjoyning; and indeed his leaving of no place, where he came, if it were a fit time of preaching, unsup­plyed. Besides all which his or­dinary Discourses were in one kind or other as good as Le­ctures to those that heard them.

10. Besides his ordinary Cha­pell [Page 94] hours, which he saw due­ly and by all frequented; he caused many of his houshold to assist every morning at the six a clock prayers in the Cathredral' Church adjoyning: He never sa [...]e down at his meals, but he had, according to the ancient fashion of Bishops, a Chapter of the Bible read by one whom he kept for that purpose; and lastly, at the close of the night, he called his whole Family in­to his ordinary Dining room, and there, in his own person, most devoutly commended them by his prayers to Almigh­ty God.

11. He never conferred ho­ly Orders upon any person, whom he did not first examine strictly according to the Ca­nons [Page 95] of the Church; neither did he trust herein any Chap­lain or other Deputy, but him­self personally performed the office. And as he was provi­dent to plant a good Ministrie in his Diocess, so was he no less carefull to cherish those who were already planted. The most eminent among them for pie­ty and learning, he did not only use most familiarly, but studied to draw them nearest to him­self by providing them of Pre­bends in his Church: and to the weaker sort of them, he spared not to give his advice and dire­ctions upon all occasions, how they might enable themselves for the better discharge of their Calling.

12. In the exercise of the [Page 96] Discipline of the Church, he carried himself so, that by his own practice he wrought a great reverence thereof, even in those who were otherwise not well affected thereunto. For when any enormous Of­fender was censured in his Con­sistory, whose punishment and penance was fit should be per­formed in the Cathedral Church, as incestuous persons, notorious adulterers, notori­ous schismaticks or the like; Himself was usually the prea­cher at such times: and this he did often and upon divers oc­casions, and in such his Sermons did so open the grievousnesse of those Offences, and the Au­thority of the Censurers and Discipline of the Church, as for [Page 97] the most part wrought great Contrition in the parties puni­shed; and after Sermon before the whole Congregation, him­self gave them Absolution. All which he performed with that gravity, learning and power, as gave great comfort to all, and bred, no doubt, a general reve­rence and awe of the Censures and Authority of the Church.

13. His Trienniall Visita­tions, he alwayes kept in his own person; and kept them so, that (to say no more) he was ever welcome where he came. They resorted and flockt to him in every place, tanquam ad salutare & beneficum sidus; yea, they brought their Chil­dren and whole Families to re­ceive his blessing, and to be [Page 98] confirmed by him. Which act he performed, not in a tumul­tuary manner, and as we use to say, hand over head, but with advised deliberation and choice, admitting onely those, whom either by the Certificate of their Minister, or the exami­nation of his own Chaplains he found to be sufficiently instru­cted in the Principles of Reli­gion, and so by the intention of our Church capable of the benefit of that sacred Action.

14 In the Cathedral Church of VVells, whether it were so that himself preacht or no, after the Sermon done and the Psalme sung as the manner is, Himself standing up in the E­piscopal Seat gave the Benedi­ction to the people, after the [Page 99] example of the High Priest in the old Testament, Num. 6. 23. which thing as he performed like himself. i. e. In a most grave and fatherlike manner; So any man that had but seen, with what attentive and devout ge­stures all the people received it, what apparent comfort they took in it, and how carefull e­very particular man was, not to depart the Church without it, could not but conclude, That there is a secret Virtue in the prayers and blessings, as of na­tural, So of Spiritual Parents.

15. In his last Testament, amongst other pious recom­mendations of his soul to God, he hath these words: I desire to end my life in that faith, which is now established in the [Page 100] Church of England, whereof I am a member, and have been by Gods blessing well nigh thirty years a Preacher. And my Souls unfeined desire is, that it may e­ver flourish, and fructifie in this kingdome and in all his Maje­sties Dominions, and from thence be propagated to other Coun­tries, which sit in darknesse and in the shadow of death, whether Infidels or Hereticks. Amen.

16. Having some few hours before his departure made a zealous and devout Confession both of his faith and sins to the Bishop of Ely there present, from whom also he received Absolution, according to the Order of our Church; and be­ing assisted to the last gasp with the comfortable and heavenly [Page 101] prayers of that divine Prelate; after he had taken particular leave of all about him, and gi­ven them respectively both his counsel and benediction, He speedily yielded up his soul to God.

I. EDWARD PEYTO Esq;

1. HE was a person, who liv'd a great deal of life in a little time; especially dating it (as he did) from the memorable pains of his renovation. When I consider him in his child­hood at the Vniversity of Oxf. exciting others by his example, to minde the end of their being there; how strict and studious he appeared throughout his course; how much farther he went before, in point of profi­ciency, [Page 103] then he came behind others in point of years; how much applauded he was by all, for his publick exercises in Lent, both as an oratour at the Desk, and as a Philosopher in the Schools; adding honour to his Degrees. When I re­flect upon his progress through much variety of learning, through every part of the Ma­thematicks, especially through Algebra the most untroden part of them: and when I com­pare with all this, the great So­briety of his temper, his unaffe­cted humility, and (after a pub­lick aberration) his perfect re­turn into the way, out of which for some years he had unhappi­ly been seduced; last of all, when I remember, how whilest [Page 104] nothing but prosperity made some in the world to hug their errour, he hated his so much the more, the more he had pro­sper'd by its delusion (which was an argument of the most generous and Christian tem­per:) I may fitly affirm of him, That being made perfect in a short time, he fulfilled a long time.

2. I do the rather think it a duty, to praise him after his de­cease, the less he was able to en­dure it, whilest yet alive. And I conceive my self the fitter, to speak a little in his absēce of his perfections, because so long as he was present I onely told him of his faults (never leaving him as a Monitor, untill I thought he left them.) For having [Page 105] found him my noble friend, I could not but afford him my reprehensions (yet still attend­ed with respect) in whatsoever regard I could think them use­ful. And 'twas the mark of an excellent judicious Spirit, that he valued me most for my greatest freedome in that parti­cular, even then when our Heads were most at enmity (by their over great influence of his Fathers perswasion up­on his own) there still remain­ed in both our Hearts a most inviolable Friendship. He had impartially considered that sa­cred Aphorism, That to refuse instructions, is to despise ones own Soul.

3. The manner of his de­parture did most remarkably [Page 106] resemble Sir Spencer Compton's (a person so singularly qualifi­ed by grace and nature and e­ducation, that however his ex­traction was highly noble, I may confidently say, it was the lowest thing in him:) who dy­ed at Bruges about the time, wherein the man of our desires expir'd at Compton. Never did I hear of a more heavenly Va­lediction to all the content­ments. of the earth, then was given by these two at their dis­solutions. Never yet did I hear of any two farewells so much alike. Never were any more admired by those that saw them whilest they were going, or more desired when they were gone.

4. As he deserves a noble [Page 107] Elegy, so he needs none at all: being one of whom I have seldome or never heard an ill word spoken. And he was so much the lesse obnoxious to the dishonesty of the tongue, because (as far as his Quality would give him leave) he ever delighted in that obscurity, which most young Gentlemen are wont to shun. For al­though his extraction was no­ble, and his Fortune extreamly fair; though his natural parts and abilities were truly great, as well as greatly improved by art and industry; yet still his modesty and his meeknesse were so much greater then all the rest, that, in a perfect con­trariety to the vain glorious and hypocritical, he ever turn'd [Page 108] his worst side outward.

5. It was, no doubt, an ef­fect of those two Virtues (his Modesty and his meeknesse) that he so constantly observed that precept of S. Iames: For he, if any man living, was swift to hear, but slow to speak. And when he thought it his turn to speak, it was rather much, then in many words. As the speech of Menelaus [...]. de­scrib'd by Homer: so perfectly free were his Discourses, from the fault of impertinencie or superfluity.

6. So far was he from sitting down in the chair of the scorn­full (as too many of his Quality are wont to do:) nay so far from walking in the Counsels of the ungodly (from the time that [Page 109] he found them to be such) that he made it his care and chiefest caution (in his later years more especially) not so much as to stand in the way of sinners.

7 He was a true Nathaniel, an Israelite indeed, in whom was no guile: a right honest man, which is a nobler title then right honourable; though I may say very truly, that he had many due titles of honour too. For not to speak of his Ance­stors, who came in hither with the Conquest, and that from the City Po [...]ton in France, from whence they derive the name of Peyto: I think it more for his honour, to have been many wayes [...]. good: viz. a good Hus­band, and a good Father; a [Page 110] a good Master, and a good Friend; a good Neighbour, and a good Landlord; a good Christian, and a good Man. And, which is a sign of more goodnesse then all the rest, he never thought he was good enough; especially in the first, and in the two last Particulars.

8. He was so eminently so­ber, that I believe he was never known to have sin'd against his own body in any kind; so emi­nently righteous, that he was in pain, till he had rendered to every man his due. Being so sober, and so righteous, he is inferred to have been Godly too. For the most material part of Godlinesse is moral ho­nesty; nor was there any thing more conspicuous in the life [Page 111] of our blessed Lord. The se­cond Table is the touchstone of our Obedience to the first.

2. He enjoyed that Eutha­nasia, that happy calmnesse of death, which the Emperour Augustus was wont to pray for: and that in both accep­tions of the word. For first, however he was sick of a burn­ing Fever, yet without the least taint of deliration. That knot of union betwixt his body and his soul, was not violently bro­ken, but very leisurely untyed; they having parted like two friends, not by a rude falling out, but a loving Farewell. And secondly, whereas two things make death terrible, suddēness and sin,: he was so armed a­gainst the first, that he did not [Page 112] onely take care for the set­ting of his house in order, but sent for the Divine to assist his devotion, and farther told his Physitian, that God had sent him his Summons. And he used the help also of our Englissh Leta­ny, which prompts us to pray a­gainst suddain death, which he commanded one of his ser­vants to assist him with upon his death bed, bestowing upon it (when he had done) a great deal of holy admiration.

10. Again, so well was he prepared against the second, that for the tendernesse of his Conscience and his deep re­sentment of all his sins, those of the times more especially, in which he deplored his unhap­pinesse that he had had a share: [Page 113] next for his hatred of himself in the remembrance of them, and his stedfast resolutions of better life, and of making am­ple satisfaction for every ill that he had done: and last of all for his sollicitude, that all his Fa­mily might live in the fear of God: in all these respects, I say, he appears a more then ordina­ry Example.

11. Marks of his sincerity were: 1. That he lookt upon his failings, as through a macros­cope, which made them seem nearer and very much greater then they were. 'Twas his own expression, That all the sins of his former life did even kick in his very face; warning all those who stood about his sick bed, to beware of those sins which [Page 114] the world cals little; and of the no-little sins, which the world calls none; yea of the least ap­pearances and opportunities of sin 2. That he was not meerly a death bed penitent, but began the great work in his time of health. 3. That he insisted on the nature of true repentance, w ^ch still importeth an amend­ment and reformation of life: abhorring and deploring those desperate notions of repen­tance, which the world is so cōmonly mistaken in. 4. That after some Conflicts he had with the Ghostly enemy (that so he might be happier in a Victori­ous, then he could possibly have been in an untempted in­nocence) God was pleas'd ve­ry signally to speak peace unto [Page 115] his Conscience, and to give him a foretast of Glory. 5. That he extended his care to the souls of others, with as true a Charity as to his own; exhort­ing one against the love of this world, charging another to be watchfull against intem­perance, exciting a third un­to frequent and servent pray­er. In general and in special, he was by his precepts as well as practice, a true preacher of Re­pentance.

12. In imitation of good old Iacob, before he was ga­thered to his Fathers, he gave a blessing to all his Children. And farther gave it in charge to his virtuous Consort, not to edu­cate his Children, so much to learning and other accomplish­ments, [Page 116] as to the knowledge and service and fear of God: and that they should be season­ed with those his last principles, which by his later experience he found the best.

Ob. 8. Cal. 7. An. 1658. aet 31.

Dr. WILLIAM LAUD, Arch. B. of Canterbury

1. HE was by many suspe­cted and charged not onely as popishly affected him­self, but as a poisoner of the whole stream and current of the reformed religion in En­gland: at last he was treated ei­ther as a heretick or a traitor, or both, to Church and State.

[Page 117]2. As to this aspersion of his [...]eing popish in his judgment (which reflected, in the repute and event, upon all the Bishops of England) truly his own Book may best of any, and suf­ficiently vindicate him to be a great Antipapist: great I say; because it seems by that learn­ed dispute, that he dissented from Popery, not upon popu­lar Surmises and easie Prejudi­ces, but very learned and solid grounds, which true reason and religion make good, agree­able to the judgement of the Catholick Church in the pur­est and best times. And in this the Aarch B. doth to my judg­ment, so very impartially weigh the state and weight of all the considerable differences be­tween [Page 118] the Papists and the En­glish Protestants (not such as are simple, futile and fanatick, but learned, serious and sober) that he neither gratifies the Ro­manist nor exasperates him be­yond what is just; neither warp­ing to a novel and needlesse super-reformation, wich is a de­formity on the right hand, nor to a sub-reformation which is a deformity on the left; but keep­ing that golden mean, which was held by the Church of En­gland, and the greatest defend­ers of it.

3. I am indeed prone to think, that he wished there could have been any fair close or accommodation between all Christian Churches (the same which many grave and [Page 119] earned men have much desir­ed:) And it may be, he thought himself no unfit Instrument to make way for so great and good a work, considering the eminencies of parts, power and favour which he had. Haply he judged (as many learned and moderate men have) that in some things be­tween Papists and Protestants, differences are made wider, & kept more open, raw and sore then need be, by the private pens and passions of some men, and the interests of some little parti's, whose partial policies re­ally neglect the publick & true interest of the Catholick Church and Christian religion, which consists much in peace as well as in purity, in Charity as in U­nity.

[Page 120]4. He was neither Calvinist, nor Lutheran, nor Papist, as to any side or party, but all, so far as he saw they agreed with the reformed Church of England, either in fundamentals, or in­nocent and decent superstru­ctures. Nor did he esteem any thing as the Voice of the Church of England, which was not publickly agreed to and de­clared by King and Parliament, according to the advice and determinate judgement of a National Synod and lawfull Convocation convened and approved by the chief Magi­strate, which together made up the compleat Representa­tive, the full sense and suffrage of this Church.

5. After his confinement, [Page 121] having occasion to wait on him, I heard him protesting with a serious attestation of his [...]ntegrity before Gods omni­science, that however he might mistake in the mean and me­thod, yet he never had any o­ther design then the glory of God, the service of his Maje­stie, and the good order peace and deconcy of the Church of England: that he was so far from complying with Papists, in order to confirm them in their errours, that he rather chose such methods to advance the honour of the Reformed Religion in England, as he be­lieved might soonest silence the cavils of fiercer Papists, in­duce the more moderate Re­cusants to come in to us, as ha­ving [Page 122] lesse visible occasion gi­ven them by needlesse distan­ces and disputes to separate from us.

6. He added, that he had (further) a desire, as much as he could, to relieve the poor and distressed condition of ma­ny Ministers, whom he had to his grief observed in Wales and England, where their discou­ragements were very great by reason of the tenuity and in­competency of their Livings: That he found the sordid and shamefull aspect of religion, and the Clergy gave great ad­vantages to those that were Popishly inclined, who would hardly ever think it best for them to joyn with that Church, which did not maintain either [Page 123] [...]ts own honour or its Clergy to [...]ome competency and come­ [...]inesse.

7. Doubtlesse this Prelate [...]ad more in him of Charity, Liberality, Munificence and Magnificence (as appears by [...]he works he undertook to found, to build or to repair) [...]hen ever I saw in any of those, who are the having and get­ [...]ing from, not the giving ene­mies to, Episcopacy.

III. ARCH-BISHOP USHER.

1. Dr. Iames Vsher, lat [...] Arch-bishop of Ar­magh and Lord Primate of Ire­land, I reckon as ours, because not onely his ashes and morta [...] remains are deposited with us, but he lived his last years o [...] Exile, and ended his mortality amongst us in England. Wher [...] besides his constant pains i [...] preaching, even to his last, h [...] [Page 127] hath left as many of his learned works, which are enjoyed by, and highly esteemed of all worthy men, who were blest with the example of his great and unspotted worth, which no envy, no malice can, I think, be so impudent as to blemish.

2. The real excellencies of this Bishop every way were such, that they exceeded all or­dinary measures of humane commendation and capacity, extending to something of ad­miration [...] and ecsta­cy. None but those whose minds are en­larged to some proportion of his accomplishments can be a­ble to comprehend his worth and amplitude: So vast, so tran­scendent, so astonishing was his [Page 128] learning and understanding in all kinds of knowledge, divine and humane, that he was as the Cynosure by which all great Di­vines steered, and as the Sun-Dial by which all great Scho­lars set their watches.

3. So accurate was he in all usefull and learned Languages, occidental and oriental; So clear a prospect he had of all Hi­story and Chronology, of all Controversies, antient and mo­dern, that nothing escaped him: nor was he onely as a Reader and spectatour, but as a Judge and Censor, as an Arbi­trator and Dictator in Disputes, as one that sate in a Tribunal of Soveraign Learning over all. Nothing was new or hid­den to him in Philology, Phy­losophy, [Page 129] Geography, Astrono­my, Mathematicks, and least of all in Theology or Divinity: he had conquered all others, but in this he triumphed, which was the Trophie, Crown and Centor of all his other studies.

4. There was scarce any Book, printed or manuscript, worth reading, in private or publick Libraries throughout all Christendome, which he had not read, either in the Co­py or Original, and digested in­to the method or design of his studies; yea, and to a miracle remembred, as to the main contents of it. To the immen­sity of his learning there was ad­ded excellent Principles of Po­litick Prudence, as a Gover­nour of the Church, and as a [Page 130] Counsellour of State, taken from that great experience he had gotten, and many excel­lent Observations he had made out of all Histories, as well hu­mane as divine; though he al­ways laid the greatest weight upon the grounds and instan­ces of holy Scripture, which gives the truest judgement of Wisdome or Folly.

5. His whole life, as to the Conversable part of it, was so civil, so sacred, so affable, so am [...]ble to all persons of any worth or ingenuity that came to him, that nothing was more Venerable. I never saw him either morose or reserved, much lesse sower or supercili­ous. If he were sad, it made him not silent, but onely more [Page 131] solemn: if he were chearfull, he abhorred not such facetious and ingenious elegancies of dis­course, as shewed that holiness was no enemy to Cheerfulness, but great Graces might safely smile, and innocent Virtues might sometimes laugh with­out offence.

6. Whose humble and ho­ly Industry was such, that be­sides his vast designes for wri­ting and printing, he never fail­ed, since he was Presbyter, Prelate or Primate, to preach once every week, if health per­mitted him; besides many times on the week dayes upon occasion: Nor was it any great pains to a person of his fulnesse, who did not pump for, but pour out his Sermons like a [Page 132] pregnant spring, with a strange plenty, clarity and vivacity. If all Bishops hearts and mouthes had been as open as his, sure they had stopped the mouthes and silenced the tongues of all their Adversaries.

7. However, He held a fra­ternal Correspondency and a­ctual Communion (as occasion offered) with those Reformed Churches, and those Ministers, who approved, yea desired E­piscopacy, though they could not enjoy any Bishops, properly so called, after the custome of all antient Churches; yet, with S. Cyprian Sine sp [...] sunt, & perditio­nem maximam Dei indignati­one acquirunt, qui schi smata serunt, & relicto Episcopo suo, ultro sibi foras pseudo [...] Epi­scopum constituunt. Epist. 61. Lib 1. he flatly condem­ned, and branded [Page 133] with the sin and scandal of Schism, all those who wilfully cast off, injustly separated from their lawfull Bishops, who pro­fessed the same Orthodox Faith and reformed Religion; affirming that he would not re­ceive the Sacrament at such Ministers hands.

8. This excellent Bishop, who deserved to be esteemed one of the Primates of all Lear­ning, Piety and Virtue in the Christian world, was, by Gods wonderfull dispensations, made a Primate in sufferings. He li­ved to see, yea to feel, his Ve­nerable Person by some men shamefully slighted, his Fun­ction as a Bishop exautorated, decryed, depressed, dispised; his Revenues first stopped, then [Page 134] alienated and confiscated; his moderate stock of moveables (all, except his excellent Libra­ry) and at last a reserve of some moneys, seized and swept away by the Irish. After this, the pro­fits of the Bishoprick of Carlile (then vacant) being conferred on him by the late King, for the support of his age and exile, even these were taken from him by those that took all Church-revenues from all Bi­shops: and a Pension allowed him, which, after a year or two, was never paid him.

9. At last this great Perso­nage, the Primate of Armagh (whom Cardinal Richelieu, with many other great Princes and States, had invited with very honorary Propositions to [Page 135] make onely his residence with them, as an honour to their Countrey) was reduced to a smal Stipend or Salary, which he was to earn by preaching, as long as his sight and strength served him. These failing him (& in him all the learned & bet­ter world) he lived upon Gods providence and the Contribu­tions (for the most part) of some noble Personages (where­in I was happy to do him some service:) among whom none hath merited and erected a more lasting Monument of ho­nour, then the Countesse of Peterborough; under whose gratefull and hospitable roof this mortal Angel, this incom­parable Bishop left, as the En­glish, so all the world, which was not worthy of him.

IV. THOMAS BRANDESTON

1. A Rich Clothier of Berg­holt (commonly, Bar­fold) in Suffolk, and more rich in good works, for which his Memory is fresh, and will ever be preserved there. Whose example is worthy to be com­mended to all the Clothiers in England.

2. He well knew, that thrift and diligence must bring in fewell for munificence: and was both himself a laborious man in his Calling, and an exact Overseer of his Workfolks, [Page 137] not enduring idlenesse, no nor any vain expences.

3. His manner was, as he walked along the street to ob­serve the painfulnesse of the poorer sort, and at the Houses where he heard them diligent at their business, to cast in at the doors his money liberally, and so knockt and away. Which custome of his the people were so acquainted with, that they knew his knock, and would hasten to the door and gladly take up his Almes.

4. Often did he visit the poor Houses, and look into their Cupboards, and finding but slender provision there, leave money with them to buy them bread: and if he percei­ved them to want Clothes, [Page 138] took care they should be better apparelled at his charge.

5. It was his Custome also to provide many Sutes of ap­parel, and give them to some friend or servant to be distribu­ted. Go, said he, and dispose of these Commodities, and that they may go off the better, take mony with you, and give so much to one, and so much to another, that they may ac­cept of the Clothes the more willingly. Sometimes he would send for the Taylors and cause them to cut out apparel for the poor out of a whole broad Cloth. For such Clothiers the Lord provides bright shining Robes of Glory in his King­dome.

6. He used to go to the week­ly [Page 139] Lecture at Manigtree, & there had two purses full of money: the one he would empty to the poor that came there to his chamber; the other to others that would wait for him on the way as he returned home. This was his way to lay up his Trea­in heaven, where no theeves can break through and steal.

7. At Barfold on the Lecture day the Ministers that met at Church were constantly enter­tained at his house and feasted, being pleased no lesse with his company and good discourse then with his good chear: And in another fair room were fed at the same time a good num­ber of poor people, that were his welcome guests at all times.

8. He would sometimes de­light [Page 140] himself in a relation, how his liberality once sa­ved him a thousand pounds. For, coming from London with this great charge of money, and alone, he was set on by rob­bers, and distributing among them readily at the first de­mand four or [...]ive pounds, they were so taken with his chearfull Bounty, that they did not search him, but guarded him on his way homeward till he was past danger of the rest of their Confederates; for which civility he freely gave them forty shillings more.

9. This good man had one sore affliction in his eldest Daughter, troubled some space of time with a great Tempta­tion, believing God would [Page 141] damn her: with whom after he had used all fair means to dis­deceive her and administer comfort (but in vain) he took this course. He calls her into his private chamber, and with a stern countenance said thus. Thou thinkest God has no mercy for thee, but will surely damn thee: come on then, and blaspheem that God. The daughter was amazed at this command of her Father, and when he still pressed it (to try her) fell down at his feet and cryed out: Though you be my Father, yet I dare not at your command sin against my God: I dare not blaspheem his holy name. Thou fool, said the Father, with tears in his eyes: and canst thou think, that that [Page 142] God whom thou fearest to displease, whom thou darest not sin against, can be so cruel as to damn thee. Avoid Sa­tan, The poor Daughter re­ceived comfort presently, and the good Father was over­joyed.

10. To leave the rest to the remembrance of those that knew him, I adde but one thing more. Every Lords day after morning Sermon, he retired to his chamber and spent his Dinner-time in Meditation: but, at Supper, he feasted his Family, and his Children, that were placed out and married in the Town; and thus did both receive much joy himself, and maintained unity, and amity amongst them. Farewell, brave [Page 143] Clothier! May thy Example [...]ever be forgoten.

IV. Mr. JOHN DOD.

[...]. HE was born at Shotledge in Cheshire, (the young­est of seventeen children) bred [...]n Iesus Colledge in Cam­bridge. At a Disputation at one Commencement, he was so facetiously solid, that Oxford-men there present courted him home with them, and would have planted him in their Uni­versity.

2. He was a passive Non­conformist, not loving any one the worse for difference in judgement about Ceremonies, and acknowledged how God [Page 144] under the government of Bi­shops had given a marvelous encrease to the Gospel, and that godly men might Compo [...] therewith comfortably. And to his dying day is conceived (though roughly used) to have stuck to what he had written on the five Cōmentaries of O­bedience to lawfull Authority.

3. Some Gallants at Sr. A. Cope's Table forbore swearing in reverence of Mr. Dod being present: and confessing so much, he took occasion thence to discourse of the power of Gods restraining grace: and how it would keep us from wickedness, were we not want­ing to our selves.

4. He would sit along while in contemplation of a flower, [Page 145] & said to one inviting him to see a fair house, I can see much of God, even in this little flower: more then in your stately build­ings.

5. When the Souldiers had plundered him of his linnen, he in their absence to search af­ter more, took a pair of the sheets, and clapt them under him in his chair, and so con­ceals them and saves them from the Souldiers, much pleasing himself after their departure, that he had, as he said, plun­dered the plunderers, and by a lawfull felony saved somewhat of his goods.

6. He was an exquisite He­brician, and with his society and directions in one Vacation taught that tongue to Mr. Iohn [Page 146] Gregory that rare linguist, Chaplain of Christ Church, who survived him but one year, dying at Kidlington Mar. 13. 1646. buried at Christ-Church in Oxford.

7. Mr. Dod dyed 1645. & was buried at Fausly in Northam­pton-shire: with whom the old Puritan may seem to expire, and in his grave to be interr'd. Humble, Meek, Patient, Ho­spital, Charitable, as in his Cen­sures of, so in his almes to o­thers, would I could truly say but half so much of the next Ge­neration.

Mr. JOSEPH MEDE

1. HIs parents were of ho­nest rank, and though not by eminency of Condi­ [...]ion, yet truly ennobled by hav­ [...]ng such a Son: of whom also Essex (near Bishops Stratford) may justly glory as the place of his Nativity.

2. His friends, encouraged by their conceived hopes of him in his blossome, plac'd him in the University of Cambridge, devoting him to learning in the service of Christ, in that Coll. that bears his name. And what pains himself took for his own improvement, may easily be imagined; and that to the rich vein of his pregnant wit, an as­siduous [Page 148] industry was not want­ing. The fruits whereof, soon appeared with that lustre, that drew upon him the eyes not onely of those in his own Col­ledge, but of the whole Uni­versity: who lookt upon him, as one eminent in all kind of learning requisite for his stand­ing.

3. He wanted that felicity of utterance, which uses to set off a sleight knowledge, having so great an hesitation in his speech, as made his expressions painful to himself, and nothing pleasing to others. wherein yet, he in time became a rare ex­ample, how much a discreet observation of such an imper­fection can work toward the cure of i [...]. For by a heedfull [Page 149] inspection into the nature of his defect, what words he most stuck at, either single, or in Conjuncture, and at what times he was more or lesse freo; he attained so great a mastery over that infirmity, that he was able to deliver a whole Sermon without any considerable he­sitation.

4. By that time he had ta­ken the degree of a Master in Arts, he had made so happy a progresse through all kind of Academical studies, as that Ti­tle was not (as with many it is) any false inscription. His name was up, and he lookt on as one extraordinary seen in all those Arts and Languages that ac­complish a Divine: an acute Logician, a profound Philoso­pher, [Page 150] a skilful Mathematician, and one not slightly versed in History and Chronology. In all which, but especially in these last studies, he after became so great a Prosicient, that for his singular knowledge and dex­trous application of Prophesie [...] to their punctual times, he was worthily admir'd by those tha [...] knew him.

5. His first shewing himsel [...] abroad was by an addresse to that great pattern and Patron o [...] learning, Andrews (after Bi­shop of Winchester) in a large discourse in Latine de Sanctuat [...] relativa. Which gained the approbation of so exact a judge­ment (as was his to whom i [...] was presented) in so high a [...] measure, that the Bishop stood [Page 151] his firm friend in a businesse at Court about his fellowship, and after that desired him for his houshold Chaplain: which place, notwithstanding he re­fused, as valuing the freedome of his studies above any hopes of preferment. And this free­dome which he enjoyed in his Cell (as he used chearfully to term it) gave him a happy advantage of encreasing his knowledge in all kinds.

6. His constant reading the Greek Lecture in the Colledge (which he obtained soon after his being chosen Fellow, and held all his life) made that tongue familiar to him: and his daily private readings to his pu­pils (to whom he was an able guide in all kind of Philosophi­cal [Page 152] and Mathematical studies) preserved these parts of Acade­mical learning. Nor were his hours of recreation (which was very seldome in bodily exerci­ses) this way unprofitable to himself and others, being for the most part spent in learned discourses with his friends; and for divers years together most­what with his worthy friend Mr. William Chappell, Hebrew Lecturer, in the same Col­ledge, keeping that language in continual exercise; and with­all, by many happy excursions into the neighbouring Lan­guages, gained no small trea­sure of knowledge in the Chal­dee, Syriac, and Arabic.

7. The time he had for re­tirement to his private studies, [Page 153] he spent principally in a curi­ous enquiring into the more abstruse parts of learning, and such as were remote from the vulgar track. As in the exact calculation of time for clear­ing the historical part of Scri­pture: to which he joyned the laborious search of Antiquities relating to Religion, Ethnick, Jewish and Christian. The fruits of which study appear vi­sible in his works.

8. Among other studies he spent no small pains in sound­ing the depths of Astrology: and was wont in familiar dis­course to determine, that (to use his own apposite and fit words) the [...] coeli does be­get in man [...] temperamen­ [...]; and this [...] temperamen­ti [Page 154] does beget [...] ing [...]nii, in the way of direct and natural subordination: but, that here the chain is broken off, because [...] ingen [...]i does beget or pro­duce [...] actionis in man only contingently, and with­out any necessity. And thus è contra, that [...] coel: does beget [...] temperamenti, and the [...] temperamenti, [...] ingen [...]; this naturally, as before: But, that this [...] inge­n [...]i should beget [...] actio­nis, this is from no necessity; because it is in mans power and liberty, who is naturally ill­disposed, through the improve­ments of art, and especially by the grace of God, to become good or better, as the divine goodnesse shall minister oppor­tunity. [Page 155] Which is as much as can be said in so few words, and might determine the question to all judicious and knowing men, concerning the power of the starrs and those celestial in­fluences.

9. From these he proceeded unto those mysterious Scien­ces, which made the ancient Chaldeans and Egyptians so fa­mous, tracing them, as far as he could have any light to guide him, in their Prophetick Schemes, Hieroglyphicks, and Oneiromancy, or interpreta­tion of dreams, for the affinity which he conceived they might have with the language of the Prophets: to the under­standing of which he shewed a most indefatigable desire: as [Page 156] witness especially those labours of his which are published up­on Daniel and the Revelation.

10. He ever seemed most delighted with those studies, where he might strain the [...]i­news of his brain: and there­fore used to set upon those dif­ficult places of Scripture, where he found errour had insconced it self with obscurity, antiquity or multitude of mistakes. By this means he became furnish­ed with variety of discourse, of things no lesse delightfull and profitable, then out of the vul­gar rode of studies. Which made his company much de­sired and frequented by Scho­lars, both of the same Colledge and from abroad. To these [...]e seemed to impart himself [Page 157] with that willingnesse, that it seemed questionable, whether had the greater desire, they to hear, or he to communicate his studies to them. Which made a familiar friend of his once mer­tily to say to some, that, having been partakers of his discourses, gave him thanks: That they might spare their thanks; for that they were not so much beholding to him for delivering himself to them, as he was to them for hear­ing him.

11. By this means he so fix­ed his notions in his memory, that he made them ever his own, and himself able at any time readily to deliver them in a compleat and well formed discourse. Such are those ex­cellent Diatribae now publish­ed, [Page 158] wherein he hath discover­ed more rarities and pieces of profound and unvulgar learn­ing, then are to be found in some vast volumes of many much admired Authours. These were Academical exer­cises calculated for the meridi­an of an University, and not fit­ted for the vulgar.

12. In popular Discourses or Sermons, he disliked the un­necessary quotation of Au­thours and the use of forreign languages and terms of Art (too much practised even among men, otherwise learned and re­ligious) as savouring of as much inconsideration, as for shoo▪ makers (it was his comparison) to bring shoos to be drawn on with their lasts in them: And would [Page 159] say, that Arts and Languages, though they were necessary and excellent helps for the framing of any d [...]scourse, & to enable men to instruct others, yet were they to be laid by in discourses to the unlearned.

13. He was so far from the vanity of ostentation, that it is heard to say, whether he was more eminent for his rare knowledge, or for his singular modesty in valuing his own a­bilities: in so much as he could, not without trouble, hear of that opinion, which some (de­servedly enough) had conceiv­ed of his great learning; own­ing onely some diligence, free­dome from prejudice and stu­dium partium as his best abili­ties. To this, as a near alliance [Page 160] of modesty may be added his a­versnesse from all ambitious thoughts, & affectation of great and publick places, to the pu [...] ­suance of which many have been spurred by the consci­ence of lesser abilities. It was indeed his highest ambition to be in tranquillitatc & s [...]c [...]ssu.

14. His great knowledge did not (as it doth with many) make him apt either to con­tend with any, or for difference in opinion to break the bond of amity: but was ever most ten­derly studious of the peace of the Church. To whose cen­sure he ever submitted his pri­vate judgement, being willing either to reform or silence any opinion, which should be found repugnant to truth, or [Page 161] inconsistent to peace. He lo­ved not to entertain discourse with them, that were impetu­ous and passionate in their opi­nions, who were resolved however to have the last word, being more addicted to that un­ingenious humour (as he was wont to call it) of Disputacity, then a sober and moderate dis­quisition after truth. And in that unhappy difference about Predestination and its Appen­dants, he would often say, that he wondred that men should, with so great animosity, con­tend about those high and ob­scure speculations, and with so severe a confidence condemn each other.

15. His Humility and Cha­rity (rare virtues in this age!) [Page 162] appeared particularly in these three instances. 1. That he was never forward (in what company soever) to catch at hints of discourse, or to declare his opinion in a way of singu­larity: and yet he was the most communicative man in the world. 2. That he would fair­ly propound, dextrously illu­strate, and ingenuously leave every man to judge for himself, being not ambitious at all to gain Proselytes, nor magisterial­ly imposing his notions upon other men, but contented eve­ry one should think or speak as himself best liked. 3. That he would speak ill of no man; but dissemble the failings & errours of his very enemies: neither would he willingly accompa­ny [Page 163] them, who in the pregnan­cy or pruriency of wit would adventure to criticize upon o­thers, to the disparagement of their parts or performances.

16. That the fear of God had a great impression upon his soul, he manifested, not onely by a religious and innocent Conversation, but in all his dis­courses: in which, he ever shewed himself tender of the honour of God, and that he could not brook the least adul­teration of his worship, nor the violation of any thing upon which his awfull name was stamped. Hence was that se­verity which he used against the Roman Church in their Saint and Image-worship. Hence likewise was his so great detestation of Sacriledge, and [Page 164] so zealous asserting the honour of Gods house, and whatsoever else is dedicated to his worship, exacting a reverence from Christians in the use of them in relation to God, to whom by a peculiar propriety they belong. This latter procured him the suspicion of Superstition with such as shew their zeal against idolatry by committing or at least by approving of Sacri­ledge, and banish all distinction between things sacred and pro­phane, and measure the truth of every point of religion by its distance from Rome. But his reputation not standing or falling arbitrio popularis aurae, it would but wrong him, to go about to vindicate him from such mens censure. Neither [Page 165] need I cleare him from the guilt of Time-serving in what he hath written for Reverence in Gods house, having declared it to be his opinion many years before the times relisht it.

17. His soul, while it con­versed in these regions of mor­tality, was invested in a come­ly and healthfull body, some­what beyond a just temper in­clined to melancholy; yet so, as that melancholy seemed ra­ther to poyse, and make it ser­viceable to his studious minde, then to distemper it with those infirmities which commonly attend the predominancy of that humour. His feeding, for the most part, was rather to suffice nature, then satisfie his appetite. No man more con­stant [Page 166] to his Colledge-Com­mons, with the smaller sort of beer, seldome and very little wine. Which made him of­ten merrily to tell them which observed the thriving of his bo­dy, that They might see what Colledg-Commons could do. And as his body with small Com­mons, so his purse, with a small Intrado, received a considera­ble improvement.

18. He was taken away with a short (for it ended the fourth day) and not very pain­full sicknesse, his understand­ing, judgement and memory continuing in vigour to his last gasp. He bequeathed towards the new building, the increase of the Library, the adorning of the Chappel: a large Legacy [Page 167] out of a Scholars purse, of 300. l. in way of a grateful return for those mercies he had so long enjoyed in that Colledge, whereof he was a member.

19. He composed his soul (which he then was onely to attend) for its addresse into the divine presence with most de­vout thoughts and humble prayers, and strengthned it with the commemoration of his death, by whom he hoped to obtain a more blessed life, in the participation of the sacred Eucharist. And having thus taken and tasted the cup of sal­vation, within a few hours he departed hence, to the more full fruition of those heavenly delicates, among those blessed ones that are called to the Sup­per [Page 168] of the Lamb, upon the se­cond of Octob. 1638. When he had lived 53 years, and spent a­bove two thirds of that time in that Colledge, to which living he was so great an ornament and dead, his worthy name shall be a lasting monument. A compleat Edition of all Mr. Mede's Works in Fol. is promised by R. R.

20. He had this happinesse in his death, that he was taken away from the evils that were then ready to come, and be­fore Truth and Peace had be­gun to suffer in this unhappy Island. And indeed he would often, in the presage of his di­vining spirit, speak of this, a year or two before he dyed, as an observation upon that in the 3. of Iudges 30. The land [Page 169] had rest four score years: ‘which now (would he say) that from the begining of blessed Queen Elizabeth's reign, we of En­gland have enjoyed: who knowes whether our period may not be near at hand? And whether it be so, or not, whosoever shall live but a year or two may know it of a cer­tain.’

VII. Mr. JOSIAS SHUTE.

HIs very name is as a sil­ver Trumpet to his re­ [...]utation, sounding out a Quic­ [...]uid doctiorum est, assurgite [Page 170] huic tam colendo nomini: with whom 'twas, as with Iob appea­ring, ch. 29. The young men hid themselves, and the aged arose and stood up: when the ear heard him, then it blessed him; and when the eye saw him, it gave witnesse to him. His name, I say, is an Aromatick oyntment, diffusing a more rich perfume then the choicest of our broken boxes.

2. He was descended of a Learned Race, the son of an eminent Divine in Yorkshire, and one of [...]ive famous brother­preachers. A man of that lati­tude of learning, that length of apprehension, that depth of judgement and height of spe­culation, so compleat in all de­mensions, that I may justly re­new [Page 171] that admiration of Naz. concerning Basil [...]. Where was there such a mix­ture of rare parts and graces? what kind of learning was he unacquainted with? what kind was he not excellent in, as if he had studied that alone.

3. And though he were a man of but a single heart, yet was he one of divers tongues, able to read the Scriptures without the spectacles of Tran­slatours; he both drank and de­rived those holy waters out of their sweeter Fountains, the Originals. And even Bellar­mine acknowledges, the Ori­ginal is in several cases to be u­sed. Luther and Melancthon valued their skill in the Origi­nals above Kingdomes, saith [Page 172] Amama in paraen. L. H. Our grave Authour, like a wise Merchant, was well skild in the tongue of the place he traded to: being Master of those three grand mother Languages, in­scribed on the Crosse of Christ, besides some others of their Progeny.

4. Filius Ecclesiae in patribus Versatissimus: This son of the Church of England was most familiar with the antient Fa­thers both of the East & West. Of the Greek, Chrysostom lay in his bosome, even till he did patrizare, become like unto him in his flowing style and golden eloquence. Among the Latine, St. Augustine, that maul of hereticks, was in chief esteem with him.

5. He was an exact Histo­rian, for Ecclesiasticals especi­ally, those Records of the Church: the ignorance where­of is the mother of many of our growing errours and indevoti­ons: Nor was he lesse acquaint­ed with the Schooles; (though more delighted with the wa­ters of Siloah then of Meriba;) even a Master of the Master of the Sentences, and à Secretiori­bus unto the Councils, even of their Cabinet.

6. And because the flock is not onely to be [...]ed but cured sometime; he was a singular Casuist, and spiritual Chyrur­gion, that knew well [...], to set in joint again, and to bind up the broken heart: a Soul-Chyrurgion right, for all those [Page 174] properties of heart, and hand, and eye: no lesse sweet and soft in his exhortations & consola­tions, then sharp and impartial in his reproofs and reprehen­sions. He was indeed another Apollos, an eloquent man and mighty in the Scriptures: And as a nother Basil, he did thun­der in in his doctrine, and ligh­ten in his life. His light shined before men; not onely that of knowledge, but that of exam­ple also, in his Piety and Chari­ty, in his gravity and sweet a [...]a­bility.

7. He was at last dignified with the Arch deaconry of Col­chester; and having been above three and thirty years Rector of S. Mary Woolnoth in Lum­bard-street, London; an indefa­tigable, [Page 175] most faithful and most beloved preacher of the Gos­pel there; Lamenting the Di­stractions, fallen upon the Church, he departed hence to rest with God, Iu [...]. 23. 1643.

VIII. FRANCIS BACON Lord Verulam.

1. FRancis Bacon the Adorner and Ornament of Learn­ing, was born in Yorkshire Ian. 22. 1560. His father was Sir Nicholas Bacon, Lord Keeper, that prudent Counsellour to Queen Elizabeth: His Mother the Daughter of Sir Anthony [Page 176] Cook, a Lady eminent for Piety and Learning. These being the Parents, you may easily ima­gine, what [...]ssue was like to be.

2. He was so pregnant in his Childhood, that the Queen took notice of him and de­lighted much, then, to confer with him, and to prove him with Questions; unto whom he delivered himself with ma­turity above his years, that her Majestie would often term him, The young Lord Keeper.

3. Whilest he was commo­rant in Cambridge, in Trinity Colledge, under the Tuition of Dr. Whitgift (afterward the re­nowned Arch-B. of Cant.) being about sixteen years of age, he first fell into the dislike of Aristotles Philosophy (yet still [Page 177] attributing high Attributes to the Authour) as a Phylosopher onely strong for disputations and contentions, but barren of the production of works for the benefit of the life of man. In which mind he continued to his dying day.

4. After he had passed the circle of the liberal Arts, his Fa­ther thought fit to frame and mould him for the Arts of State, and for that end sent him over into France with the Am­bassadour. In his absence, his Father dying, left him being the youngest Son, in some streights: till after some years he succeed­ed in the estate of his dearest brother Sir Anthony Bacon, a Gentleman equall to him in height of wit, though inferiour in learning.

[Page 178]5. Being returned from tra­vel, he applyed himself to the study of the Canon Law, which he took upon him to be his profession, and seated him­self for the Commodity of his Studies and Practice in Greys Inne, where he erected that e­legant pile or structure, com­monly known by the name of The Lord Bacons Lodgings. In which house he carried him­self with that Comity and Ge­nerosity, that he was much re­verenced and loved by the Readers and Gentlemen of the House.

6. His Birth and Capacities qualified him, above others of his profession to have ordinary Accesses at Court, and to come frequently into the Queens eye, [Page 179] who received from him great satisfaction not onely in busi­nesse of Law, but also about Affairs of State. Yet was he kept back from preferment in the Queens time by the policie of a great States-man, then: lest, if he had risen, he might have obscured his Glory. One­ly she gave him a dry Rever­sion of the Registers Office in Star-Chamber (which fell not till after her Majesties time) of which he used to say: That it was like another mans ground, bu [...]tting upon his house; which might mend his prospect, but it did not fill his Barn.

7. After the coming in of his new Master King Iames, he made a great progresse: Solli­citour, Atturney, Counsellour, [Page 180] Keeper, and lastly Chancellour: (which two last places, though they be the same in Authority and power; yet they differ in Patent,) since whose time, none of his Successours did e­ver bear the Title of Lord Chancellour. But since the writing hereof, the Nation is happy in the right Honourable Edward [...] Hide L. high Chancellour of England.

8. Towards his rising years, not before, he entered into a married estate, and took to wife one of the daughters and co heirs of Alderman Barnhim. Children he had none, yet he had other Issues to perpetuate his name; the Issues of his Brain; in which he was ever happy and admired. Neither did the want of children detract from the good usage of his Consort, whom he prosecuted [Page 181] with much conjugal Love and Respect.

9. The last five years of his life, being withdrawn from Civil affairs and from an active life, he employed wholly in Contemplation and studies, a thing whereof his Lordship would often speak, during his Active life: as if he affected to die in the Shade, and not in the Light. In which time, he composed the greatest part of his Books and Writings, both in English and Latine. Some of them are these: King Henry the Seventh. Natural History. The Advancement of Learn­ing. Essayes. Miscellanies, and the chiefest in his account, In­stauratio magna &c.

10. Those Abilities which commonly go single in other [Page 182] men were all conjoyned, & met in him. These are, sharpnesse of Wit, Memory, Judgement, and Elocution. Sir Walter Ra­leigh said of him by way of Comparison: That the Earl of Salisbury was an excellent Spea­ker, but no good Pen-man; That the Earl of Northampton was an excellent Pen-man, but no good speaker; But that Sir Fran­cis Bacon was eminent in both.

11. In the composing of his Books, he did rather drive at a masculine and a clear Expres­sion, then at any sinenesse or affectation of phrases; and would often ask, if the mean­ing were expressed plain e­nough, as being one that ac­counted words to be but subser­vient or ministerial to matter, [Page 183] and not the principal. And if his stile were polite, it was be­cause he could do no other­wise.

12. His meals were refecti­ons of the ear, as well as of the stomack: wherein a man might be refreshed in his mind and understanding, no lesse then in his body. In which Con­versations he would not appro­priate the Speech wholly to himself, but draw out others and allure them to take their turns, and speak upon such a subject as he knew they were skilfull in. Neither contemned he any mans Observations, but would light his torch at every mans candle.

13. When his office called him to charge any offenders, [Page 184] though it was his duty to charge them home, yet he ne­ver insulted over them, but was alwayes tender hearted, and carried, himself decently to­ward the parties; as one, that looked upon the example with the eye of severity, but upon the person with the eye of pity and compassion. And in Civil Businesse, as he was Councel­lour of Estate, he had the best way of advising, not engage­ing his Master in any precipitate or grievous Courses; and the King gave him this testimony, that he ever dealt suavibus mo­dis, in a moderate and fair way.

14. He was a good Master to his Servants, and rewarded their long attendance with good places freely, when they [Page 185] fell into his power. Which was the cause that so many young Gentlemen of bloud and quality sought to list them­selves in his retinue. And if he were abused by any of them in their places, it was onely the errour of the goodnesse of his Nature, but the badge of their indiscretions and intemperan­ces.

15. This Lord was religi­ous: for though the world be apt to suspect and prejudge great wits and politicks to have somewhat of the Atheist; yet he was conversant with God, as appeareth by several passages throughout the whole Current of his writings. Otherwise, he should have crossed his own principle, That a little Phyloso­phy [Page 186] maketh man apt to forget God, as attributing too much to second Causes; but depth of Phi­losophy brings a man back to God again. He repaired frequently, to the service of the Church, to Sermons, to the Sacrament, & dyed in the true Faith establish­ed in the Church of England.

16. He was free from Ma­lice, which (as he said himself) He never bred, nor fed. He was no revenger of injuries: no heaver of men out of their pla­ces, as delighting in their ruine; no defamer of any man to his Prince. His Fame is greater and sounds louder in forreign parts abroad, then at home in his own Nation. Several per­sons of quality crossed the seas on purpose to gain an opportu­nity [Page 187] of seeing him and discours­ing with him. He dyed at High gate Apr. 9. An. 1626. [...]at. 66. of a gentle Feaver, ac­companied accidentally with a great Cold, and was buried at S. Albans.

IX. THOMAS JACKSON, D. D.

1. HE was first planted in Queens Colledge un­der the Tuition of Dr. Cracan­thorp, and from thence remo­ved to Corpus-Christi. Though he had no notice of the vacan­cy of the place till the day be­fore the Election, yet he an­swered with so much readiness [Page 188] and applause, that he gained the admiration as well as the Suffrages of the Electours, and was chosen with full consent, although they had received let­ters of favour from great men for another Scholar; the Mandamus of the pious Foun­der, Nec prece nec pretio, pre­vailing more then all other sol­licitations.

2. He preserved the high opinion which was conceived of him, by a studious and exem­plary life, not subject to the u­sual intemperances of that age. Certainly the devil could not finde him idle, nor at leisure to have the suggestions of vice whispered in his ear. And al­though many in their youthful times have their deviations and [Page 189] exorbitancies, which after­wards prove reformed and ex­cellent men; yet it pleased God to keep him in a constant path of piety and virtue.

3. He was furnished with all the learned Languages, Arts and Sciences, as the praevious dispositions or beautiful Gate, which led him to the Temple; but especially Metaphysicks, as the next in attendance, and most necessary handmaid to Di­vinity; which was the mistress, where all his thoughts were fi­xed, being wholly taken up with the love and admiration of Jesus Christ, and him cruci­fied. The Reading to young­er Scholars, and some employ­ments imposed by the Found­er, were rather Recreations [Page 190] and Assistances, then divertise­ments from that intended work. The Offices he under­took (out of duty, not desire) were never the most profitable▪ but the more ingenious; no [...] such as might fill his purse, bu [...] encrease his knowledge. When he was chosen into Office, the Governour of the Colledge was wont to give this testimo­ny of him, That he was a man most sincere in Elections, and that in a dubious Victory o [...] younger wits, it was the safes [...] experiment for an happy choice, to sollow the omen o [...] his judgement.

4. He read a Lecture of Di­vinity in the Colledge every Sunday morning, and another day of the week at Pembrok [...] [Page 191] Colledge (then newly erected) by the instance of the Masters and Fellowes there. He was chosen Vice-President for ma­ny years together, who by his place was to moderate the Di­sputations in Divinity. In all these he demeaned himself with great depth of learning, ac­companied with all gentleness, curtesy, humility and modera­tion.

5. From the Colledge he was preferred to a Living in the Bishoprick of Durham (in their donation) and from thence re­moved to the Vicarage of New-Castle. This was the place where he was first appointed by his friends to be a Merchant; but he chose rather to be a Fa­ctor for heaven. Here he a­dorned [Page 192] the Gospel which he preached, with an humble and charitable Conversation; gi­ving usually to the poor, when he went abroad, what money he had, who at length flocked so unto him, that his servant took care he should not have too much in his pocket. After some years, he was invited back again to the Colledge, being chosen President in his absence, at so great a distance, so unex­pectedly without any suit or petition upon his part, that he knew nothing of the vacancy of the place, but by the same let­ters that informed him, it was conferred upon himself.

6. Upon his return to Ox­ford, and admission to his Go­vernment, they found no alte­ration [Page 193] by his long absence, and more converse with the world, but that he appeared yet more humble in his elder times; and this not out of coldnesse and re­mission of Spirit, but from a prudent choice & experience of a better way. He ruled in a most obliging māner, no man depar­ted from him with a sad heart, except they had by some willing errour created trouble to him. The Friends as well as the Me­mory of his Predecessors, he used fairly. A lover and maker of peace, silencing and compo­sing all differences, displeasures and animosities by a prudent impartiality, and the example of his own sweet disposition. It was a new and peculiar Art of Discipline, but successeful­ly [Page 194] practised by him, that those under his Authourity were kept within bounds and order, not so much out of fear of the penalty, as out of love of the Governour. He took notice of that which was good in the worst men, and made that an occasion to commend them for the goods sake; and living himself very strictly, yet reser­ved large Pardons for imper­fections of others.

7. He willingly admitted, and was much delighted in the acquaintance and familiarity of hopeful young Divines, not despising their Youth, but ac­counting them as Sons and Brethren, encouraging and ad­vising them what Books to read, and with what holy pre­parations, [Page 195] lending them s [...]ch Books as they had need of. This was one of the special ad­vices and directions which he commended to young men: Quod dubit as nefeceris; Heare the dictates of your own Con­science. He was as diffusive of his knowledge, counsel and advice, as of any other his works of mercy.

8. In all Histories of learned, pious and devout men, you shall scarcely meet with one that disdained the world more generously: not out of igno­rance of it, as one brought up in Cells and darknesse, for he was known and endeared to men of the most resplendent fortunes; nor out of melan­choly disposition, for he was [Page 196] he was chearful and content in all estates; but out of a due and deliberate scorn, knowing the true value, that is, the vanity of it. As preferments were heaped upon him without his suit, or knowledge, so there was no­thing in his power to give, which he was not ready and willing to part withall, to the deserving or indigent man. He knew, it was a more blessed thing to give then to receive; in all places of his abode, distri­buting to the poor with a free heart, a bountiful hand, a com­fortable speech, and a chearful eye. How disrespectful was he of Mammon, the god of this world, the golden image which Kings and Potentates have set up: before whom the [Page 197] Trumpets play for war and slaugh [...]er, and Nations and Languages fall down and wor­ship, besides all other kind of Musick for jollity and delight, to drown (if it were possible) the noise of bloud, which is most audible and cryes loudest in the ears of the Almighty. How easily could he cast that a­way, for which others throw away their lives and salvation, running headlong into the place of eternal skreekings, weeping and gnashing of teeth. If it were not for this spirit of Cove [...]ousnesse, all the world would be at quiet. Certainly (although the nature of man be an apt soil for sin to flourish in, yet) if the love of money be the root of all evill, it could not [Page 198] grow up in him, because it had no root: and if it be so hard for a rich man to enter into the Kingdome of God and the narrow way which leads unto life, then he that stooped so low by humblenesse of minde, and emptied himself so neerly by mercifulnesse to the poor, must needs find an easier pas­sage. Doubtlesse, they that say and do these things, shew plainly that they seek another Countrey, that is, an Hea­venly: for if they had been mindful of This, they might have taken opportunity to have used it more advantagi­ously.

9. His Devotions towards God were assiduous and exem­plary, both in publick and [Page 199] private. When he went the yearly progresse to view the Colledge Lands, and came in­to the Tenants House, it was his constant custome (before any other businesse, discourse or care of himself, were he ne­ver so wet or weary) to call for a retiring room to pour out his Soul unto God, who led him safely in his Journey. And this he did not out of any spe­cious pretence of Holinesse, to devour a Widows house with more Facility, rack their Rents, or enhance their Fines; for excepting the constant Reuenue to the Founder (to whom he was a strict accoun­tant) no man ever did more for them, or lesse for him­self.

1. As he was alwayes a Re­conciler of Differences in his private Government, so he seriously lamented the publick breaches of the Kingdome. He well knew that war was commonly attended with ruin and calamity, especially to Church and Church-men. But God took him from the evils to come. It was a suffi­cient degree of punishment to him to foresee it: it had been more then a thousand deaths unto him, to have beheld it with his eyes. When his death was approaching, he was ever heard repeating to him­self with a soft voice these and the like ejaculations: I wait for the Lord &c. Gratious is the Lord &c. Return unto thy [Page 201] rest, O my Soul, &c. And hav­ing thus spoken, soon after he rendered up his Spirit to Him that gave it.

X. The LADY FALKLAND.

1. THis elect Lady set out early in the wayes of God, in the dawn of her age. She came not from her Nurses armes without some knowledge of the Principles of Christian Religion.

2. Her obedience to her Parents was so exact, that her Mother would say, She remembred not any one particular, wherein at any time, she disobe [...]ed her self or her Father.

3. When she was very young, she wrought a purse for her own Almes and would importunately begge her Mothers single money to fill it, that she might empty it again to the poor.

[Page 202]4. She was ost tims at a book in her closet, when she was thought to be a bed. Hours of private prayer she constantly observed, and if stran­gers were in her own room, she would retire into some other for that purpose.

5. After her Marriage, though she acknowledged Gods great good­nesse to her for her temporal prefer­ments, yet was not her heart any whit perceiv'd to be exalted with joy for them.

6. Ʋpon the death of her Lord, she addresses her self to a Divine of great eminency for piety and learn­ing; and from him she takes dire­ction for a more strict course of life in this her widdowhood.

7. Her grand employment was to understand and practice our Saviours Sermon in the Mount, and she be­gan with those virtues, to which the beatitudes are annexed, Humility, Meeknesse &c.

[Page 203]8. She excelled in mercifulnesse, Some of her neighbours that were very old, and not able to work, or very young, and not fit to work, were wholly maintained by her. To other poor Children she contributed much, both for their spiritual and temporal well-being, by erecting a School for them, where they were to be taught both to read and to work. And she accounted that the best contrivement of her estate, which set most poor people to work.

9. When it was objected that idle beggers were relieved at her doors, she said, I had rather relieve five unworthy vagrants, then that one member of Christ should go empty away.

10. She was wont to send plenti­ful relief privately to prisons and needy persons, with a strict charge, that it should not be known from whence it came. And she failed not to relieve her enemies as oft as occasion required.

[Page 204]11. She used to provide Cordials for the sick and to visit them her self (even the poorest) and carry with her some [...]ook of spiritual exhortation and read to them.

12. The morning and evening prayers of the Church were constant­ly used in her family, and her ser­vants charged to be present. And on the Lords day she rose earlier then ordinary, and enjoyned her self much private duty besides the publick.

13. She had two Cautions for her Tongue: Never to speak evill of any, but onely to reclaim him: and that her words should not be idle but tend­ing to edification.

14. She agreed with her fami­liar friends, to take the liberty of reproving one another, saying, There is no true friendship without this. If you suffer me to be undone for ever, how are we friends?