MEMORIALS OF WORTHY PERSONS: Two Decades. By CL. BARKSDALE. The Memory of the Just is blessed. LONDON, Printed by I. R. 1661. The Names of the Persons. Dr. Joseph Hall Bishop of Norwich. Dr. John Donne, Dean of S. Paul's. Sir. Will. Cokain Ald. of London. Sir Thomas Bodley. D. John Jewel B. of Sarum. Mr. George Herbert. Dr. James Usher A B. of Armagh. Mr. John Hales of Eton. R. Evelyn. Dr. Art. Lake B. of Bath and Wells. Edward Peyto Esq; Dr. Will. Laud A Bishop of Cant. Arc-Bishop Usher. Thomas Brandeston. of Barfold. Mr. John Dod. Mr. Joseph Mede. Mr. Josias Shute. Francis Bacon L. Verulam. Dr. Thomas Jackson. Lady Falkland TO HIS Honourable Friend, GEORGE MOUNTAGU Esq; SIR, THat you have in your Family Three Knights of the Garter, is a great honour; but 'tis a greater honour, that there be in your Family many more, excelling in Courtesy, and Valour, and Loyalty, and Prudence, and in that which is the Head of Wisdom, the Fear God. Where the fear of God is, there also dwells a Reverence to the Ministers of God, the Fathers and Doctors of the Church: Of which Quality are most of the Persons remembered in these papers, which I have guilded, as it were, and beautified with your flourish,ing Name. Some Gentlemen are here mixed with the Churchmen. And I hearty pray, they may be always conjoined, and lovingly united, for their mutual, both temporal and eternal, happiness. These Memorials are of the Deceased only. I believe we have their Equals of both sorts now Living. Whom God in mercy hath rescued from the late Calamities, and reserved for Himself and for his Vicegerent our most Cracious Sovereign, that they might serve Him in this blessed Restauration of Church and State. May they happily go on; and You, Right Noble Sir, among the first Ranks, to deserve that Glory, which, if they receive not at present from an Ingrateful Age, Posterity will surely render to their Memories. Your most obliged and most affectionate servant CL. BARKSDALE. April 23. TO THE READER, Reader, I Purpose, God willing, to go on in this way of Collection, to revive the Memory and spread the Fame of excellent Men and Women of our Church, conceiving this also to be a means to gain the Affections, and reconcile those that stand at a distance from us; when they see what holy persons this Church hath been (and is) adorned with. Know, that the Authors at the end, should have been cited at the beginning of every Memorial respectively. The most considerable Errata, be pleased, before reading of the book, to correct with the pen, thus: Errata. 22. ult. Iz. W. 76. 5. often. 87. 14. Rochet. 101. 10. the P. 102. 8. ●oint. 109. 16. Poit●u 123. 13. add out of Dr. Gauden's Suspir. 126 5. out of Mr. Fuller's Church hist. 136. 2. Suspiria. 119. 1. Man●●ree. ●44. 9 fift Command. 178. 3. Common. I. Decad. 〈◊〉. Dr. Joseph Hall B. of Norwich. 1. ●I. Dr. John Donne, Dean of St. Paul's 15. ●II. Sir William Cokain Ald. of Lond. 23. ●V. Sir Tho. Bodley. 32. V Dr. John Jewel Bishop of Sarum. 44. VI Mr. Geo. Herbert. 62. VII. Dr. James Usher A B. of Armagh. 66. VIII. Mr. John Hales of Eton. 70. ●X. R. Evelyn. 76. X. Dr. Arthur Lake B. of Bath and Wells. 86. TWO Decad. I. Edward Peyto Esq; 10● II. Dr. William Laud A B. o● Canterbury. 116 III. Arch-B. Ussher. 126 IU. Tho. Brandeston of Barfold. 136 V Mr John Dod. 14● VI Mr. Joseph Mede. 14● VII. Mr. Josias Shute. 16● VIII. Francis Bacon L. Verulam. 17● IX. Dr. Tho Jackson. 18● X. Lady Falkland. 20● FINIS 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 years together he was chosen Rhetorick-Professor in the University of Cambridge, and performed the Office with extraordinary applause. 2. Whilst he was the private Pastor first of Halsted in Suffolk, and after at Waltham in Essex, he preached thrice a week in a constant course; yet (as himself witnesseth) never durst climb up into the Pulpit to preach any Sermon, whereof he had not before penned 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 only, 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 Foreign Divines and States. And in those unhappy Disputes he shown 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 Learning he excelled in Piety, and those that were most famous for Piety he excelled in Learning. 6. He was a rare Mirror 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 seldom did he so much as mention his own losses. 6. Besides his spiritual Alms of Prayers, godly Admonitions, Comforts and holy Counsels, whereof he was very liberal, his bodily Alms were constant and bountiful: he gave a weekly contribution to poor Widows, to his dying day; and by his Will, a good sum of money to the Town 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, etc. 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 Psalmist o● God's, They all praise him, because all men praise them. Out of his Funeral Sermon by Mr. John Lightfoot, 1656. 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 Family in Wal●s; his Mother from the Family of the famous Sr. Thomas More, sometimes Lord Chancellor of England. But his own Learning and other multiplied merits may justly seem sufficient to dignify 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 stayed till his seaventeenth year. All which time he was a most laborious Student, often changing his Studies. Then was he removed to London, and entered into Lincoln's Inn, 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 he had seen h●●. 4. About the twentieth year of his age, he traveled, and returned not into England, till he had stayed a convenient time, first in Italy, and then in Spain; where he made many useful observations of those countries', their Laws and Government, and returned into England perfect in their languages. 5. Not long after his return, that exemplary pattern of wisdom 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 in the State: for which his Lordship often protested, he thought him very fit; and at his dismission said, he was a Secretary fit for a King than a Subject. 6. Afterward, he lived many years with his noble Kinsman Sr. Francis waly 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 persuaded by his friends, to make his residence in London: where that Honourable Gentleman Sr. Robert Drury assigned him a very convenient House Rent-free, next his own in Drury-Lane; and was also a daily 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 meals; 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 persuaded Mr. Donne to enter 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 denied their requests, and having a discerning spirit, replied: I know Mr. Donne is a Learned man, an excellent Divine, and will prove a powerful Preacher. 10. Yet he deferred to enter into sacred Orders for the space of three years: all which time he applied himself to an incessant study of textual 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 Reverend Bishop most gladly received the news, and with all convenient speed ordained him Deacon and Priest. 11. Now all his studies (which were occasionally diffused) 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 shown he was possessed with those joys that he laboured to distil into others: a preacher in earnest; weeping sometimes for ●is Auditory, sometimes with ●hem; always preaching to himself like an Angel from a Cloud, though in none; carrying some (as Paul was) to heaven ●n holy raptures; enticing o●hers by a sacred art and courtship to amend their lives; and ●ll this with a most particular grace, and an unimitable fashion of speaking. 12. Presently after he entered 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; which the University presently granted, expressing a gladness, 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 which he accepted: nor did he preach only, but was an ocular direction to them, by a holy and harmless conversation. 15. Three years after, by a special command from his Majesty, Dr. Donne attended the Ambassador 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 Majesty 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 do therefore make you Dean of Paul's: Take your meat home to your study, say grace, and much good may it do 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 employed a dislike of his Government, particularly of his late direction, that the Evening Lectures on Sundays should be turned into Catechising. 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 suspicion: and calling some Lords of his Council, added with much earnestness; 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 sickness seized upon him, which turned to a Spotted Fever: But God preserved his Spirit, keeping his intellectuals clear and perfect; and as his health increased, so did his thankfulness, testified in his Book of Devotions, a Composition of Holy Ecstasies, occasioned and appliable to the Emergencies of that sickness. 18. The latter part of his life was a continued study, Saturdays only excepted, which he usually spent in visiting friend's and resting himself under the weary burden of his week's Meditations: And he gave himself this rest, that thereby he might be refreshed and enabled to do the work of the day following, not negligently, but with courage and cheerfulness. 19 Nor was his Age only 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 his great wit and high ancy. But, in his penitential ●eares, viewing some of those ●ieces loosely scattered in his ●outh, he wished they had been ●bortive. And yet was he not ●o fallen out with heavenly Poetry, as to forsake it, no not in ●isdeclining age, witnessed then ●y many divine sonnets, and ●ther high, holy and harmonious Composures. 20. He left the Resultance of 1400 Authors, 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-murder are diligently surveyed, and judiciously censured; a Treatise written in hi● youth. All businesses of consequence in this and the neighbouring Kingdoms, 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, than his Expenses, than what was given to th● poor and pious uses, lastly what rested for him and his: blessing each year's remainder with a thankful 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 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 debts or for their sees: He was 〈◊〉 continual giver to poor scholars, 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 Chapel of his House. He was a happy reconciler of differences among his friends and kindred. 22. In his last sickness he sent for many of his most considerable friends, of whom he took a solemn and deliberate Farewell; commending to their considerations some sentences particularly useful for the regulation of their lives, and dismissed them with a spiritual 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 Kingdom 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 Out of his Life, written by Jerem. Walton. 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 some slackness: and God prospered his industry so, as that when his Father's 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 public 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 largeness. 3. You have, I think, a phrase of driving a Trade; and you have, I know, a practice of driving a way Trade, by other use of Money: & you have lost a man, that drove a great Trade the right way, 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 behooveful, i. e. of Arts and Manufactures, to be employed upon our own Commodity, within the Kingdom, 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 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 sometimes heard the greatest Master of Language and judgement, 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 Chapel, 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 brightness 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 Crosses as well as his Blessings established his assurance in God. 6. The Lord was with him at his death too. He was served with the process here in the City, but his cause was heard in the Country. Here he sickened, there he languished, and died there. In his sickness 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 weakness, would dissuade him from kneeling. I must not defraud him of this Testimony from myself, that into this place where we are now met, I have observed him to enter with much reverence, and compose himself in this place with much declaration of devotion. 7. In his sickness he had but one day's labour, and all the rest were Saboths: one day he converted to business, 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 always loath to return to any worldly business. 8. His last commandment to Wife and Children, was Christ's last commandment to his Spouse the Church, in the Apostles, To love one another. He blessed 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 entering 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 jesus, which di●d on the Cross, forgive me my sins! He, have mercy upon me! And his last and dying words were the repetition of the Name jesus. 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 jesus, was rather a certifying of them, that he was with his jesus, than a Prayer that he might come unto him. Out of his Funeral Sermon by Dr. Donne, Decemb. 23 1626. 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 threatened, and so narrowly observed, by those that maliced his Religion, that for the safeguard 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 Church consisted of some hundred persons. I was at that time of twelve years of age, but through my Father's cost and care, sufficiently instructed to become an Auditor 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 domestic Teachers in the House of Philibertus Saracenus, a famous Physician 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 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. Humphrey. In the year 1563 I took the degree of Bachelor of Arts; within which year I was also chosen Probationer of Merton College, and the next year ensuing admitted Fellow. Afterwards, in the year 1565 by special persuasion of some of my Fellows, and for my private exercise, I undertook the public reading of a Greek Lecture in the same College Hall, without requiring or expecting any stipend for it: Nevertheless it pleased the Fellowship of their own accord to allow me soon after four marks by the year, and ever since to continue that Lecture to the College. 4. In the year 1566 I proceeded Master of Arts, and read for that year in the School-streets natural Philosophy. After which time, within less than three year's space, I was won by entreaty of my best affected friends, to stand for the Proctorship, to which I and my Colleague 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 Orator, and bestowed my time in the study of sundry faculties, without any inclination to profess any one above the rest; insomuch as at last I waxed desirous to travel beyond the Seas, for attaining to the knowledge of some special modern Tongues, & for the increase of my experience in the managing of affairs; being wholly then addicted to employ myself and all my cares in the public service of the State. 5. After my return, in the year 1585., I was employed by the Queen to the King of Denmark, and to the Germane Princes: Next, to Henry the 3 King of France: After this, in 88, for the better conduct of her Highness' 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 passed between her Highness and the States, I was admitted for one of their Councils of Estate, taking place in ●heir assemblies next to Count Maurice, and yielding my suffrage in all that was proposed. During all that time, what approbation 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 Majesty many comfortable Letters of her gracious acceptance of my diligence and care: and among the Lords of the Councils had no man more to friend, ●hen was the Lord Treasurer Burleigh. For when occasion had been offered of declaring his conceit as touching my service, he would always tell the Queen (which I received from herself and some other Ear● witnesses) that there was not any man in England so meet as myself to undergo the Office o● the Secretary. And since, his son, the present Lord Treasurer, hath signified unto me in private conference, that when his Father first intended to advance him to that place, his purpose was withal to make me his Colleague: But that the daily provocations of the Earl o● Essex were so bitter and sharp against him, and his comparisons so odious when he put 〈◊〉 in a balance, as he thought thereupon he had very grea● 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 dignify. 7. When I had well considered, how ill it did concur with my natural disposition, to become or to be counted either a stickler or partaker in any public faction; how well I was able, by God's good blessing, to live of myself, if I could be contented with a competent lively hood; I resolved thereupon to possess my soul in peace all the residue of my days, to take my farewell of State-employments, and so to retire me from the Court. 8. Now although after this, by her Majesty's direction, I was often called to the Court, by the now Lord Treasurer, than Secretary, and required by him, & also divers times since, by order from the King, to serve as Ambassador 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 confess of myself, 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 late I have blamed myself 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 persuaded, that in my solitude and surcease from the Commonwealth affairs, I could not busy myself to better purpose, then by reducing that place (which then in every part lay ruined and waste) to the public use of Students. 11. For the effecting whereof, I found myself furnished in a competent proportion, of such four kinds of aids, as unless I had them all, there was no hope of good success. 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 in sight; That besides, which I have given for the maintenance of it; and that which hereafter I purpose to add, 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 testify 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. jan. 29. 1612. Out of his Life, written by himself, Printed at Oxford 1647. V Dr. JOHN JEWEL Bishop of Sarum. 1. AS the price and happiness 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 chrysostom, the sweet vein of Lactantius, the shining style of Fulgentius, are very conspicuous in their names; so here Grace in john, and eminent Perfection in jewel. 2. He was born of virtuous and religious Parents, in the County of Devon (Anno 1522. May 24) a fertile soil of many good Wits, and two other most eminent, of the same College after him, Dr. Reynolds and Mr. Hooker. 3. His singular promptness 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 forgot not, but most highly esteemed and bountifully rewarded all Bowins for his Master's sake. 4. He was sent to Oxford at the age of thirteen, and taken by Mr. Parkhurst of Merton College to be his Postmaster, who perceiving his capacity let fall a prophetical speech of him; Surely Paul's Cross will one day ring of this boy. 5. From Merton College 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 Colleges to behold Rhetoric so richly set forth; among others, his Tutor Mr. Parkhurst of Merton, who after the Lecture ended, saluted jewel with this Distich. Olim Discipulus mihi, chare Juelle, suisti: Nune ero Discipulus, te renucn●c, tuus. 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 his meat. His only 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 (equal to a general consent) the Dean of the College: I should love thee, jewel (said he) if thou wert not a Zuinglian; In thy Faith I hold thee an Heretic, 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 jewel was his Auditor, copied out his Lectures & Sermons, was his Notary in that tumultuary disputation's abou● the Real Presence, and in tim● became most intimate with him. 9 In those days of Peace he was noted also for an Oration in English pronounced in the College 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 College 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 to kill my heart with one word? Alas 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 College, by their unjust ejection of him, were punished not only with loss, but with disgrace: For, when the Dean boasted of their care in preserving the Colledgevestments and Treasure, the Archdeacon of Oxford answered, Ye have done so indeed, but ye have wilfully lost one Ornament and great Treasure, far more precious than any of these: alluding to the saying of Cornelia, Mother of the Gracchis, H●● sunt ornamenta mea, showing her Sons to another Lady, that shown her pearls 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 Funerals of King EDWARD, and acclamations of joy for her happy Coronation. By which Letter, it seemeth, Mr. jewel & 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 Iowell brought into a straight, having no other Counselors, but horror 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 God's providence gone a wrong way to London, and so escaped their hands that waited for him in the usual way: as St. Austin by the error of his guide escaped the Donatists. 14. Pope Marcellinus washed out his stian of Idolatry with tears of repentance and blood of Martyrdom: Cranmer purged the polluted hand that had subscribed, with fire, before he was made an Holocaust. Origen and jewel repealed their public subscription by public 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. 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 judges: In whose house he spent the greatest part of his time, as a Companion of his studies, endeavouring also sometimes to compose the contentions among his Brethren, sometimes 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 custom of the Primitive 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 Mass for quick and dead hath no warrant in the Word of God. But the Disputation was broke off, & Religion settled by the Parliament. 17. jewel 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 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 Bishopric a continual work: such was his care, that his Church should sustain no loss; such his pains in Governing and in Preadhing, that abuses might not grow by the negligence or corruption of Officials. He sat often himself with his Chancellor, and was precedent in his Consistory: where though he were a strict executor of Ecclesiastical Laws, yet no doubt he tempered severity with that lenity which he exhorted B. Parkhurst to in a certain Letter: Let your Chancellor (saith he) be harder, but you easier; let him wound, but do you heal; let him lance, do you plaster. Wiseclemency will do more good, then rigid severity: One man may move more with an Engine, than 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 replied; Unlearned men can do me no good, and to the Learned I can do no good: I have no Benefices in my gift to maintain them: Capon my predecessor hath devoured all. This Capon, unhappily understanding that of St. Paul, as one is said to have read it, Qui desider at Episcopatum bonum, opes desider at, made havoc of all the good Live in his Diocese, enriching himself, & leaving the Bishopric poor. 20. In all the time of his Bishopric, 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 perfected 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 created Doctor, and bore the part of a Moderator 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 Boys, whom he maintained at his Table. After dinner, his doors and ears were open to all suits and causes. After businesses dispatched, he retired to his study: About nine he called all his Servants to account, how they had spent the day; and after prayers admonished them accordingly: Then to his study again, ofttimes till midnight; and so to Bed: wherein after some part of an Author 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 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 road 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 replied, It becomes a Bishop to die in the Pulpit. To one weeping at his bed side, he used the words of Ambrose; I have not so lived, that I am ashamed to live longer; neither do I fear to die, because we have a merciful Lord. 23. In his Will, he considered his Brother and friends with some kind remembrances, but bestowed the rest most liberally upon his servants, scholars, and the poor of Sarum. 24. Before his death, he called his household about him, and after an exposition of the Lord's Prayer, among others used these words; It was my Prayer always to almighty 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 death in the defence thereof; which seeing he hath not granted me in this, yet I some what rejoice and solace myself, 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. Out of his Life, prefixed to his-Works. VI Mr. GEORGE HERBERT. 1. BEing nobly born, and a●eminently endued with gifts of the mind; and having by industry and happy education perfected them to a great excellency (whereof his Fellowship in Trinity College in Cambridge, & his Oratourship in the University; together with that knowledge the King's 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 testify 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 jesus Christ, to add, My Master. 3. Next God, he loved that 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 daily in the public celebration of Divine service. 5. As for worldly matters, his love and esteem to them was so little, as no man can more ambitiously seek, than he did earnestly endeavour the resignation of an Ecclesiastical dignity, which he was possessor of. But God permitted not the accomplishment of his desire, having ordained him his Instrument, for re-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 honour; Less than the least of God's mercies. Out of the Preface to his Sacred Poems. VII. Dr. JAMES USSHER Archbishop 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 Chapel, the Liturgy was constantly observed▪ which he had in estimation to his last. 2. A form of Prayer, not only by way of direction, but punctually composed, he ever ●udged to conduce to the public 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 men's performance of them, as the testifying of an unity and unanimity among us, which St. Paul ●refers as the more excellent way, before the vanity of all spiritual gifts whatsoever. Concerning which, he wished the ●udgement of Calvin (in his Letter to the Protector) were more known than it is, in regard of his esteem with such as have opposed it. 3. For Ordination, or an ordained Ministry, such was his judgement of the necessity of it▪ that he took it to be a Fundmental, and one of those principles 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 foundation of our Church; which 〈◊〉 Cartwright, in his Commentary upon the place, confirms t● the full, and in a higher expression, as if it were the overthrew of Christianity. 4. What his judgement was 〈◊〉 the use of the Lords Prayer, h●● practise showed it in the constant concluding of his Pray before Sermon with it. And h● approbation of that gesture 〈◊〉 kneeling at the Communion as often apparent before ma●● witnesses. 5. For Confirmation of children (which Calvin, Beza and o●●ers much commend, & wish it ●ere restored) he was not wanting in observation of it, as an an●●ent laudable custom. And ●s Benediction was seconded ●●ith good and spiritual instruction, that stuck to the children ●hen they came to further years. 6. The Church Catechism, despised 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 explained. 7. He was indeed, as Eras●●us saith of St. Austin, Vivi●●um quoddam exemplar Episcopi, omnibus virtutum numeris absolutum. And I wish all that have 〈◊〉 reverend opinion of him, would show it, in taking his spirit o● Moderation for their Copy. Out of Dr. Bernard. VIII Mr. JOHN HALES. 1. MR john Hales, sometime (Fellow of Merto● College &) Greek Professor of the University of Oxford, long Fellow of Eton College, and at last also Prebendary of Windsor, was a man, I think, of as great a sharpness, quickness, and subtlety of Wit, as ever this, or perhaps any Nation bred. 2. His industry did strive, if 〈◊〉 were possible, to equal the largeness of his capacity: whereby he became as great a Master 〈◊〉 polite, various and universal ●earning, as ever yet conversed with Books. 3. Proportionate to his Reading was his Meditation, which ●urnished him with a judgement beyond the vulgar reach of ●an, built upon unordinary Notions, raised out of strange observations and comprehensive thoughts within himself. So that he really was a most prodigious example of an acute & piercing Wit, of a vast and illi●mited knowledge, of a severe ●nd profound judgement. 4. Yet, had he never understood a Letter, he had other. 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 easy 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 strengthened 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 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 considered; & 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 grand example of Learning, and of the Envy and contempt which followeth it. 8. While he lived none was ever more solicited and urged to write, and thereby truly to teach the world, than he; none ever so resolved (pardon the expression, so obstinate) against it. His facile and courteous nature learned only not to yield to that solicitation. And yet he cannot be accused for hiding of his Talon, being so communicative, that his Chamber was a Church, and his Chair a Pulpit. 9 Only that there might some Taste continue of him▪ some of his Remains were collected, such as he could not but write, and such as when 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 preserved. The Sermons preached on several occasions were snatched from him by his friends, and in their hands, the Copies were continued, or by transcription dispersed. 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 then when he was employed at that Synod, and at the well pressing Io, 3. 16. by Episcopus, There I bid john 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. Out of Dr. pearson's Preface to his Golden Remains. IX. R. EVELYN. 1. HE was taught to pray as soon as he could speak, and he was taught to read as soon as he could pray. At three years old, he read any character or letter whatsoever used in out printed books, and within a little time after any tolerable writing hand; and had gotten by heart, before he was five years of age, seven or eight hundred Latin and Greek words, together with their Genders and Declensions. 2. His Promptitude in this nature was prodigious, so that I have been ready to cry out, Horrori mihi est hoc ingenium. So infatiable were his desires of knowledge, that upon a time hearing one discourse of Terence and Plautus, and being told (upon his enquiry concerning those Authors) that the books were too difficult for him, he wept for very grief and would hardly be pacified. 3. To tell you how exactly he read French, how much of it he spoke and understood, were to let you only know, that his Mother did instruct him without any confusion to the ●est. Thus he learned a Gatechisme & many prayers, & read divers things in that Language. 4. His usual Recreations were especially the Apologu●s of Aesop: most of which he could so readily recount, with divers other stories, as you would admire from whence he produced them. But he was never without some book or other in his hand. He often delighted himself in reciting of Poems and Sentences, some whereof he had in Greek fragments of Comedies, divers verses out of Herbert; and amongst the Psalms, his beloved and often repeated, Ecce quam bonum! 5. I might add the incomparable sweetness of his countenance and eyes, the clean fabric of his body, and prett● addresses: how easily he forgot injuries, when at any time I would break and cross his passions, by sometimes interrupting his enjoyments in the midst of some delicious things which alured him. But above all, extremely conspicuous was his affection to his younger brother, with whose impertinencies he would continually bear, saying, he was but a child and understood no better. 6. There are better things behind, and those are his early Piety and how ripe he was for God. Never did this child lie in bed (by his good will) longer than six or seven, Winter or Summer: and the first thing he did being up, was to say his French prayers, & our Church-Catechisme; after breakfast that short Latin prayer, which having encountered at the beginning of our Lilies Grammar, he had learned by heart without any knowledge or injunction of mine. 7. Wonderful was it to observe the Chapters which himself would choose, and the Psalms and Verses that he would apply upon occasions, and as in particular he did to some that were sick in my family a little before him; bidding them to consider the sufferings of Christ, how bitter they were and how willingly he endured them. 8. The last time he was at Church (which was as I remember at Greenwich) at his return I asked him, what he brought away from the Sermon? He replied, that he had remembered two good things, Bonum gratiae, and Bonum gloriae: which expressions were indeed used, though I did not believe he had minded them. 9 When about Christmas a kinsman of his related to us by the fire side some passages of the presumptuous fasting of certain Enthusiasts about Colchester, whilst we were expressing some admiration at the passage, That, says the Child, is no such wonder; for it is written, Man shall not live by bread alone, etc. 10 When the Lords day fortnight before he died, he repeated to me our Church-Catechisme, he told me, That he now perceived that his Godfathers were disengaged; for that since he himself did now understand what his Duty was, it would be required of him and not of them for the future. 11. How divinely did this pious Infant speak of his being weary of this troublesome world (into which he was scarcely entered) and whilst he lay sick, of his desires to go to heaven, that the Angels might convey him into Abraham's bosom, passionately persuading those that tended him to die with him. 12. The day before he took his leave of us, he called to me, and pronounced it very soberly: Father, says he, You have often told me, that you would give me your house and your land, your books, and all your fine things: but I tell you, I shall have none of them; you will leave them all to my brother. 13. That very morning, not many hours before he fell into that sleep which was his ●last, being in the midst of his Paroxysm, he called to me, and asked me, whether he should not offend, if in the extremity of his pain, he mentioned so often the name of God, calling for ease? And, whether God would accept his prayers if he did not hold his hands out of bed in the posture of praying? Which when I had pacified him about, he prayed, till his prayers were turned into eternal praises. Out of his Father's Epistle before chrysostom, of Education. Grot. ad Patrem. Carere liberis durum non est, nisi his qui habuerunt. I shall only add the Epitaph written upon this admirable Child by that excellent Scholar and his kinsman. Mr. Christopher Wase. EPITAPHIUM. R. EVELYN. I. F. Quieseit hoe sub ma●more, Unà quieseit quicquid est amabile, Patres quod optent, aut quod orbi lugeant. Genas insontes non, ut ante, risus Lepore condit ampl us. Morum venustus, quanta paucis contigit Desidetatur omnibus. Linguae, Latina. G●llica, Quas imbibit ●um lacte materno, ta●ent, Tentarat A●tes, A●tiumque principis Pi●tatis elementa hause●at. Lib●is inhaesit improbo labore, Ut sola mo●s divelleret, Quid indoles, quid dis●iplina, quid labor Possint, ab uno disceres. Puer stupendus! qualis! lie esset senex, Si fata vitae subministrassent iter! Sed aliter est visum Deo. Correptus ille febricula levi jacet: ●acent tot unà spes parentum. Vixit An. V. M. V. III. super D. Eheu! Delicias breves! Quicquid placet mortale non placet diu, Quicquid placet mortale ne placeat nimis D. ARTHUR LAKE, Bishop of Bath and Wells. 1. THis Holy man was nursed 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 College in Oxford, and after Fellow in the College near Winchester: thence again recalled by the conspiring Votes of that numerous Society to the Warden-ship of New College. Afterward, preferred first to the prefecture of the Hospital of S. Crosses near Winchester, then to the Deanery of the Cathredral Church of Worcester. And lastly to the Bishopric of Bath and Wells where he died. 3. He continued the same in his Rocket, which he had been in his Scholar's Gown, having so well studied Humility (the basis of all virtue) 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 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 easiness of access, 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 slighted, or superciliously used by him. 4. Add hereunto his rare Tranquillity and Contentedness of mind. He retained the same temper in all the alterations of his estate; So that whatsoever outwardly befell him, either to the better or the worse part, he seemed very little to be affected, surely nothing disquieted there withal. 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 hindered 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. Unless it were in the company of Scholars, and in such ingenious & pleasant Discourses as are incident thereto (wherein he would sometimes express much freedom 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 always 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 forwardness in giving 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 increasing the allowance of the poor Brethren of S. Cross; his maintaning of two Lectures in New College in Oxford, one for the Hebrew Tongue, another for the Mathematics; (A great part of his books, he disposed to the Library of New College by a deed of gift, divers years before his death, reserving the use of them only for his life time.) his leading the way to the founding of a Library at Worcester, and another at Wells, are sufficient instances of his exceeding Bounty. 8. His Contempt of Wealth 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 College 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 only Causes that he left no greater Estate behind him. 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 ceased to adorn the Pulpit with his no less frequent and assiduous, then learned and pious labours. Witness his ordinary preaching in the Cathedral Church of Wells; his frequent excursions into the Parishes adjoining; 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 Chapel hours, which he saw duly and by all frequented; he caused many of his household to assist every morning at the six a clock prayers in the Cathredral' Church adjoining: 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 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 Ministry in his Diocese, so was he no less careful 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 prebend's 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 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 schismatics 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 grievousness of those Offences, and the Authority of the Censurers and Discipline of the Church, as for 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 Triennial Visitations, he always kept in his own person; and kept them so, that (to say no more) he was ever welcome where he came. They resorted and flocked 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 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 only 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 Wells, whether it were so that himself preached or no, after the Sermon done and the Psalm sung as the manner is, Himself standing up in the Episcopal Seat gave the Benediction to the people, after the 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 careful every particular man was, not to departed 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 Church of England, whereof I am a member, and have been by God's blessing well nigh thirty years a Preacher. And my Souls unfeigned desire is, that it may ever flourish, and fructify in this kingdom and in all his Majesty's Dominions, and from thence be propagated to other Countries, which sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, whether Infidels or Heretics. 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 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. Libenter mortalis sum, qui sum futurus immortalis. Out of his Preface to his Sermons. The second Decad. I. EDWARD PEYTO Esq; 1. HE was a person, who lived 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 University of Oxf. exciting others by his example, to mind 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, than he came behind others in point of years; how much applauded he was by all, for his public exercises in Lent, both as an orator 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 Mathematics, especially through Algebra the most untrodden part of them: and when I compare with all this, the great Sobriety of his temper, his unaffected humility, and (after a public 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 whilst nothing but prosperity made some in the world to hug their error, he hated his so much the more, the more he had prospered 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, whilst yet alive. And I conceive myself the fit, to speak a little in his absence of his perfections, because so long as he was present I only told him of his faults (never leaving him as a Monitor, until I thought he left them.) For having 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 freedom in that particular, even then when our Heads were most at enmity (by their over great influence of his Father's persuasion 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 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 died at Bruges about the time, wherein the man of our desires expired at Compton. Never did I hear of a more heavenly Valediction to all the contentments. of the earth, than 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 whilst they were going, or more desired when they were gone. 4. As he deserves a noble Elegy, so he needs none at all: being one of whom I have seldom or never heard an ill word spoken. And he was so much the less 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 extremely 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 meekness were so much greater than all the rest, that, in a perfect contrariety to the vain glorious and hypocritical, he ever turned his worst side outward. 5. It was, no doubt, an effect of those two Virtues (his Modesty and his meekness) that he so constantly observed that precept of S. james: 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 * 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. described by Homer: so perfectly free were his Discourses, from the fault of impertinency or superfluity. 6. So far was he from sitting down in the chair of the scornful (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 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 than 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 ways * 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. good: viz. a good Husband, and a good Father; a 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 goodness than 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 sinned 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 Godliness is moral honesty; nor was there any thing more conspicuous in the life of our blessed Lord. The second Table is the touchstone of our Obedience to the first. 2. He enjoyed that Euthanasia, that happy calmness of death, which the Emperor 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 untied; they having parted like two friends, not by a rude falling out, but a loving Farewell. And secondly, whereas two things make death terrible, suddenness and sin,: he was so armed against the first, that he did not only take care for the setting of his house in order, but sent for the Divine to assist his devotion, and farther told his Physician, that God had sent him his Summons. And he used the help also of our Englissh Litany, which prompts us to pray against sudden 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 tenderness of his Conscience and his deep resentment of all his sins, those of the times more especially, in which he deplored his unhappiness that he had had a share: next for his hatred of himself in the remembrance of them, and his steadfast resolutions of better life, and of making ample satisfaction for every ill that he had done: and last of all for his solicitude, that all his Family might live in the fear of God: in all these respects, I say, he appears a more than ordinary Example. 11. Marks of his sincerity were: 1. That he looked upon his failings, as through a macroscope, which made them seem nearer and very much greater than 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 the world calls 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 merely a death bed penitent, but began the great work in his time of health. 3. That he insisted on the nature of true repentance, which still importeth an amendment and reformation of life: abhorring and deploring those desperate notions of repentance, which the world is so commonly mistaken in. 4. That after some Conflicts he had with the Ghostly enemy (that so he might be happier in a Victorious, than he could possibly have been in an untempted innocence) God was pleased very signally to speak peace unto his Conscience, and to give him a foretaste 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 watchful against intemperance, exciting a third unto frequent and servant 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 jacob, 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, 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. Out of his Funeral Sermon by Mr. Thomas Peirce. Dr. WILLIAM LAUD, Arch. B. of Canterbury 1. HE was by many suspected and charged not only 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 heretic or a traitor, or both, to Church and State. 2. As to this aspersion of his ●eing popish in his judgement (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 easy Prejudices, but very learned and solid grounds, which true reason and religion make good, agreeable to the judgement of the Catholic Church in the purest and best times. And in this the Aarch B. doth to my judgement, so very impartially weigh the state and weight of all the considerable differences between the Papists and the English Protestants (not such as are simple, futile and fanatic, but learned, serious and sober) that he neither gratifies the Romanist nor exasperates him beyond what is just; neither warping to a novel and needless super-reformation, which 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 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 partis, whose partial policies really neglect the public & true interest of the Catholic Church and Christian religion, which consists much in peace as well as in purity, in Charity as in Unity. 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 publicly agreed to and declared by King and Parliament, according to the advice and determinate judgement of a National Synod and lawful Convocation convened and approved by the chief Magistrate, which together made up the complete Representative, the full sense and suffrage of this Church. 5. After his confinement, having occasion to wait on him, I heard him protesting with a serious attestation of his ●ntegrity before God's 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 Majesty, 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 errors, that he rather chose such methods to advance the honour of the Reformed Religion in England, as he believed might soon silence the cavils of fiercer Papists, induce the more moderate Recusants to come in to us, as having less visible occasion given them by needless 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 Live: That he found the sordid and shameful 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 join with that Church, which did not maintain either ●ts own honour or its Clergy to ●ome competency and comeliness. 7. Doubtless 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 getting from, not the giving enemies to, Episcopacy. Additions of ARCHBISHOP LAUD. 1. HE was born of honest Parents at Reading in Berkshire. There he built an Almshouse and endowed it with 200 l. per an. As appears by his own Diary, which he constantly kept of all the passages of his life. 2. He was very plain in apparel, and sharply checked such Clergymen whom he saw go in rich or gaudy clothes, commonly calling them of the Church triumphant. At a Visitation in Essex reproving a Minister for his fineness, & showing his own plain apparel, he received this answer: My Lord, You have better clothes at home, and I have worse. 3. His munificence appears chief by St. john's College in Oxford (where he was bred) beautified, enlarged and enriched by him: and by St. Paul's Church, the Masterpiece of his designs. One Satirically said, He plucked down Puritans & Property, to build up Paul's & Prerogative. But now that Church, formerly approached with due reverence, is entered with fear of the falling of it: and is so far from having its old decays repaired, that it is daily decayed in its new reparations. 4. An. 1645. jan. 10. He was brought to the Scaffold, which he ascended with a cheerful Countenance, as rather to gain a Crown then lose a head: He made a Sermon-Speech on Heb. 12. Let us run with patience etc. Protested his innocence and integrity, as never intending any subversion of Laws and Liberty; declared his inward comfort; had his head stricken off at one blow, while he prayed, Lor● receive my Soul. Out of Dr. Gaudens Ecclesiae Ang. Suspiria, B. 4. ch. 23. III. ARCHBISHOP USHER. 1. Dr. james Usher, lat● Archbishop of Armagh and Lord Primate of Ireland, I reckon as ours, because not only 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● 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 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 Sundial by which all great Scholars set their watches. 3. So accurate was he in all useful and learned Languages, occidental and oriental; So clear a prospect he had of all History and Chronology, of all Controversies, ancient and modern, that nothing escaped him: nor was he only as a Reader and spectator, but as a Judge and Censor, as an Arbitrator and Dictator in Disputes, as one that sat in a Tribunal of Sovereign Learning over all. Nothing was new or hidden to him in Philology, Philosophy, Geography, Astronomy, Mathematics, and least of all in Theology or Divinity: he had conquered all others, but in this he triumphed, which was the Trophy, Crown and Center of all his other studies. 4. There was scarce any Book, printed or manuscript, worth reading, in private or public Libraries throughout all Christendom, 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 remembered, as to the main contents of it. To the immensity of his learning there was added excellent Principles of Politic Prudence, as a Governor of the Church, and as a Counsellor 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 Wisdom or Folly. 5. His whole life, as to the Conversable part of it, was so civil, so sacred, so affable, so amiable 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 less sour or supercilious. If he were sad, it made him not silent, but only more solemn: if he were cheerful, he abhorred not such facetious and ingenious elegancies of discourse, as shown 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 designs 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 days upon occasion: Nor was it any great pains to a person of his fullness, who did not pump for, but pour out his Sermons like a pregnant spring, with a strange plenty, clarity and vivacity. If all Bishop's hearts and mouths had been as open as his, sure they had stopped the mouths 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 custom of all ancient 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 with the sin and scandal of Schism, all those who wilfully cast off, injustly separated from their lawful 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 God's wonderful 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, decried, depressed, despised; his Revenues first stopped, then 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 Bishopric of Carlisle (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 make only his residence with them, as an honour to their Country) was reduced to a small 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 God's 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, than the Countess of Peterborough; under whose grateful and hospitable roof this mortal Angel, this incomparable Bishop left, as the English, so all the world, which was not worthy of him. Out of Dr. Gaudens Eccles. Ang. S●pipria B. 4. ●h. 24. 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 fuel for munificence: and was both himself a laborious man in his Calling, and an exact Overseer of his Workfolks, not enduring idleness, no nor any vain expenses. 3. His manner was, as he walked along the street to observe the painfulness 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 knocked and away. Which custom of his the people were so acquainted with, that they knew his knock, and would hasten to the door and gladly take up his Alms. 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, took care they should be better apparelled at his charge. 5. It was his Custom also to provide many Suits 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 money 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 Tailors 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 Kingdom. 6. He used to go to the weekly 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 thiefs 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 less with his company and good discourse then with his good cheer: 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 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 cheerful 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 damn her: with whom after he had used all fair means to dis-deceive 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 cried 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 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 add but one thing more. Every Lord's day after morning Sermon, he retired to his chamber and spent his Dinnertime 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 Clothier! May thy Example ●ever be forgotten. From Tradition of good hands. IV. Mr. JOHN DOD. 〈◊〉. HE was born at Shotledge in Cheshire, (the youngest of seventeen children) bred ●n jesus College 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 under the government of Bishops had given a marvellous increase 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 Commentaries of Obedience to lawful 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 ourselves. 4. He would sit along while in contemplation of a flower, & said to one inviting him to see a fair house, I can see much of God, even in this little flower: more than in your stately buildings. 5. When the Soldiers had plundered him of his linen, he in their absence to search after more, took a pair of the sheets, and clapped them under him in his chair, and so conceals them and saves them from the Soldiers, much pleasing himself after their departure, that he had, as he said, plundered the plunderers, and by a lawful 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. john 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 died 1645. & was buried at Fausly in Northamptonshire: with whom the old Puritan may seem to expire, and in his grave to be interred. Humble, Meek, Patient, Hospital, Charitable, as in his Censures of, so in his alms to others, would I could truly say but half so much of the next Generation. Out of Mr. Fuller's Church-History. 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 blossom, placed 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 industry was not wanting. The fruits whereof, soon appeared with that lustre, that drew upon him the eyes not only of those in his own College, but of the whole University: who looked 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 heedful 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 less 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 progress 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 looked on as one extraordinary seen in all those Arts and Languages that accomplish a Divine: an acute Logician, a profound Philosopher, 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 admired by those tha● knew him. 5. His first showing himself abroad was by an address to that great pattern and Patron o● learning, Andrews (after Bishop of Winchester) in a large discourse in Latin the 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 his firm friend in a business at Court about his fellowship, and after that desired him for his household Chaplain: which place, notwithstanding he refused, as valuing the freedom of his studies above any hopes of preferment. And this freedom which he enjoyed in his Cell (as he used cheerfully to term it) gave him a happy advantage of increasing his knowledge in all kinds. 6. His constant reading the Greek Lecture in the College (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 and Mathematical studies) preserved these parts of Academical learning. Nor were his hours of recreation (which was very seldom 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 most-what with his worthy friend Mr. William Chapel, Hebrew Lecturer, in the same College, keeping that language in continual exercise; and withal, 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, he spent principally in a curious enquiring into the more abstruse parts of learning, and such as were remote from the vulgar tract. As in the exact calculation of time for clearing the historical part of Scripture: to which he joined the laborious search of Antiquities relating to Religion, Ethnic, 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 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 man's power and liberty, who is naturally ill-disposed, through the improvements of art, and especially by the grace of God, to become good or better, as the divine goodness shall minister opportunity. 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 stars 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 Prophetic Schemes, Hieroglyphics, 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 shown a most indefatigable desire: as 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 sinews of his brain: and therefore used to set upon those difficult places of Scripture, where he found error had ensconced itself with obscurity, antiquity or multitude of mistakes. By this means he became furnished with variety of discourse, of things no less delightful and profitable, then out of the vulgar road of studies. Which made his company much desired and frequented by Scholars, both of the same College and from abroad. To these ●e seemed to impart himself with that willingness, 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 complete and well form discourse. Such are those excellent Diatribae now published, 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 Authors. 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 Authors and the use of foreign languages and terms of Art (too much practised even among men, otherwise learned and religious) as savouring of as much inconsideration, as for ▪ makers (it was his comparison) to bring shoes to be drawn on with their lasts in them: And would say, that Arts and Languages, though they were necessary and excellent helps for the framing of any discourse, & 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 only some diligence, freedom from prejudice and studium partium as his best abilities. To this, as a near alliance of modesty may be added his averseness from all ambitious thoughts, & affectation of great and public places, to the pursuance 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 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, than a sober and moderate disquisition after truth. And in that unhappy difference about Predestination and its Appendants, he would often say, that he wondered 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!) 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 & errors of his very enemies: neither would he willingly accompany them, who in the pregnancy or pruriency of wit would adventure to criticise 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 only by a religious and innocent Conversation, but in all his discourses: in which, he ever shown 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 awful 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 Sacrilege, and so zealous asserting the honour of God's 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 show their zeal against idolatry by committing or at least by approving of Sacrilege, and banish all distinction between things sacred and profane, 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 men's censure. Neither need I clear him from the guilt of Time-serving in what he hath written for Reverence in God's house, having declared it to be his opinion many years before the times relished it. 17. His soul, while it conversed in these regions of mortality, was invested in a comely and healthful body, somewhat beyond a just temper inclined to melancholy; yet so, as that melancholy seemed rather to poise, and make it serviceable to his studious mind, 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 satisfy his appetite. No man more constant to his Colledge-Commons, with the smaller sort of beer, seldom 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 painful sickness, 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 Chapel: a large Legacy out of a Scholars purse, of 300. l. in way of a grateful return for those mercies he had so long enjoyed in that College, whereof he was a member. 19 He composed his soul (which he then was only to attend) for its address into the divine presence with most devout thoughts and humble prayers, and strengthened 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 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 College, to which living he was so great an ornament and dead, his worthy name shall be a lasting monument. * A complete Edition of all Mr. Mede's Works in Fol. is promised by R. R. 20. He had this happiness 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 died, as an observation upon that in the 3. of judges 30. The land had rest four score years: which now (would he say) that from the beginning of blessed Queen Elizabeth's reign, we of England have enjoyed: who knows 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. Out of the View of his Life annexed to his Works. VII. Mr. JOSIAS SHUTE. HIs very name is as a silver Trumpet to his re●utation, sounding out a Quic●uid doctiorum est, assurgite huic tam colendo nomini: with whom 'twas, as with job appearing, ch. 29. The young men hid themselves, and the aged arose and stood up: when the ear heard him, than it blessed him; and when the eye saw him, it gave witness to him. His name, I say, is an Aromatic ointment, 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 complete in all dimensions, that I may justly renew 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 Kingdoms, saith Amama in paraen. L. H. Our grave Author, like a wise Merchant, was well skilled in the tongue of the place he traded to: being Master of those three grand mother Languages, inscribed on the Cross 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 ancient Fathers both of the East & West. Of the Greek, Chrysostom lay in his bosom, even till he did patrizare, become like unto him in his flowing style and golden eloquence. Among the Latin, St. Augustine, that maul of heretics, 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 errors and indevotions: Nor was he less acquainted with the Schools; (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 only to be ●ed but cured sometime; he was a singular Casuist, and spiritual Chirurgeon, that knew well 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, to set in joint again, and to bind up the broken heart: a Soul-Chyrurgion right, for all those properties of heart, and hand, and eye: no less sweet and soft in his exhortations & consolations, then sharp and impartial in his reproofs and reprehensions. He was indeed another Apollo's, 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 only 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, 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. Out of Mr. Edward Sparke's Preface to Sarah and Hagar. VIII. FRANCIS BACON Lord Verulam. 1. FRancis Bacon the Adorner and Ornament of Learning, was born in Yorkshire jan. 22. 1560. His father was Sir Nicholas Bacon, Lord Keeper, that prudent Counsellor to Queen Elizabeth: His Mother the Daughter of Sir Anthony 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 Majesty would often term him, The young Lord Keeper. 3. Whilst he was commorant in Cambridge, in Trinity College, 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 Aristotle's Philosophy (yet still attributing high Attributes to the Author) as a Philosopher only 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 Ambassador. In his absence, his Father dying, left him being the youngest Son, in some straits: till after some years he succeeded in the estate of his dearest brother Sir Anthony Bacon, a Gentleman equal to him in height of wit, though inferior in learning. 5. Being returned from travel, he applied 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' Inn, where he erected that elegant pile or structure, commonly known by the name of The Lord Bacon's 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 Queen's eye, who received from him great satisfaction not only in business of Law, but also about Affairs of State. Yet was he kept back from preferment in the Queen's time by the policy of a great Statesman, then: lest, if he had risen, he might have obscured his Glory. Only she gave him a dry Reversion of the Registers Office in Star-Chamber (which fell not till after her Majesty's time) of which he used to say: That it was like another man's 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 james, he made a great progress: Solicitor, Attorney, Counsellor, Keeper, and lastly Chancellor: (which two last places, though they be the same in Authority and power; yet they differ in Patent,) since whose time, none of his Successors did ever bear the Title of Lord Chancellor. * But since the writing hereof, the Nation is happy in the right Honourable Edward 〈◊〉 Hide L. high Chancellor 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 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 Latin. Some of them are these: King Henry the Seventh. Natural History. The Advancement of Learning. Essays. Miscellanies, and the chiefest in his account, Instauratio magna etc. 10. Those Abilities which commonly go single in other men were all conjoined, & met in him. These are, sharpness 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 Penman; That the Earl of Northampton was an excellent Penman, 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, 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 stomach: wherein a man might be refreshed in his mind and understanding, no less 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 skilful in. Neither contemned he any man's Observations, but would light his torch at every man's candle. 13. When his office called him to charge any offenders, though it was his duty to charge them home, yet he never insulted over them, but was always 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 Business, as he was Counsellor 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 fell into his power. Which was the cause that so many young Gentlemen of blood and quality sought to list themselves in his retinue. And if he were abused by any of them in their places, it was only the error of the goodness 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 politics 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 Philosophy 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, & died 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 ruin; no defamer of any man to his Prince. His Fame is greater and sounds louder in foreign parts abroad, then at home in his own Nation. Several persons of quality crossed the seas on purpose to gain an opportunity of seeing him and discoursing with him. He died at High gate Apr. 9 An. 1626. ●●at. 66. of a gentle Fever, accompanied accidentally with a great Cold, and was buried at S. Alban. Out of his Life written by Dr. Rawley. IX. THOMAS JACKSON, D. D. 1. HE was first planted in Queen's College 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 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 than all other solicitations. 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 find 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 exorbitancies, which afterwards prove reform 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 Metaphysics, 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 and Assistances, than 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● increase his knowledge. When he was chosen into Office, the Governor of the College 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 safest experiment for an happy choice, to sollow the omen o● his judgement. 4. He read a Lecture of Divinity in the College every Sunday morning, and another day of the week at Pembrok● College (than newly erected) by the instance of the Masters and Fellows 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, courtesy, humility and moderation. 5. From the College he was preferred to a Living in the Bishopric of Durham (in their donation) and from thence removed to the Vicarage of Newcastle. 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 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 College, being chosen Precedent 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 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 coldness and remission of Spirit, but from a prudent choice & experience of a better way. He ruled in a most obliging manner, no man departed from him with a sad heart, except they had by some willing error 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 successfully 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 Governor. 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, 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; Hear 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 darkness, for he was known and endeared to men of the most resplendent fortunes; nor out of melancholy disposition, for he was he was cheerful 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 withal, 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 cheerful 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 Trumpets play for war and slaughter, and Nations and Languages fall down and worship, besides all other kind of Music for jollity and delight, to drown (if it were possible) the noise of blood, which is most audible and cries 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 Covetousness, 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 evil, it could not grow up in him, because it had no root: and if it be so hard for a rich man to enter into the Kingdom of God and the narrow way which leads unto life, than he that stooped so low by humbleness of mind, and emptied himself so nearly by mercifulness to the poor, must needs find an easier passage. Doubtless, they that say and do these things, show plainly that they seek another Country, that is, an Heavenly: for if they had been mindful of This, they might have taken opportunity to have used it more advantageously. 9 His Devotions towards God were assiduous and exemplary, both in public and private. When he went the yearly progress to view the College Lands, and came into the Tenant's House, it was his constant custom (before any other business, 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 Holiness, to devour a Widow's house with more Facility, rack their Rents, or enhance their Fines; for excepting the constant Revenue to the Founder (to whom he was a strict accountant) no man ever did more for them, or less for himself. 1. As he was always a Reconciler of Differences in his private Government, so he seriously lamented the public breaches of the Kingdom. He well knew that war was commonly attended with ruin and calamity, especially to Church and Churchmen. 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 than 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 etc. Gracious is the Lord etc. Return unto thy rest, O my Soul, etc. 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 ways of God, in the dawn of her age. She came not from her Nurse's arms without some knowledge of the Principles of Christian Religion. 2. Her obedience to her Parents was so exact, that her Mother would say, She remembered not any one particular, wherein at any time, she disobeyed herself or her Father. 3. When she was very young, she wrought a purse for her own Alms and would importunately beg her Mother's single money to fill it, that she might empty it again to the poor. 4. She was 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 goodness to her for her temporal preferments, yet was not her heart any whit perceived to be exalted with joy for them. 6. Upon the death of her Lord, she addresses herself 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 widowhood. 7. Her grand employment was to understand and practise our Saviour's Sermon in the Mount, and she began with those virtues, to which the beatitudes are annexed, Humility, Meekness etc. 8. She excelled in mercifulness, 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 beggars were relieved at her doors, she said, I had rather relieve five unworthy vagrants, than 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. 11. She used to provide Cordials for the sick and to visit them herself (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 Lord's day she risen earlier than ordinary, and enjoined herself much private duty besides the public. 13. She had two Cautions for her Tongue: Never to speak evil of any, but only 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? FINIS.