THE LIFE OF The most Learned, Reverend and Pious Dr H. HAMMOND. Written By JOHN FELL D. D. Dean of Christ-Church in Oxford. The Second Edition. LONDON, Printed by J. Flesher for Jo. Martin, Ja. Allestry and Tho. Dicas, at the Bell in Saint Paul's Churchyard. MDCLXII. THE LIFE OF The most Learned, Reverend and Pious D R H. HAMMOND. DOctor Henry Hammond, whose Life is now attempted to be written, was born upon the 18 of August in the year 1605. at Chersey in Surrey, a place formerly of remark for J. Caesar's supposed passing his Army there over the Thames, in his Enterprise upon this Island, as also for the entertainment of Devotion in its earliest reception by our Saxon Ancestors; and of later years, for the Charity of having given burial to the equally pious and unfortunate Prince King Hen. VI He was the youngest Son of Dr John Hammond Physician to Prince Henry, and from that great favourer of meriting servants and their relations, had the honour at the Font to receive his Christian Name. Nor had he an hereditary interest in Learning only from his Father; by his Mother's side he was allied both unto it and the Profession of Theology, being descended from Dr Alexander Nowell, the Reverend Dean of St Pawles, that great and happy Instrument of the Reformation, and eminent Light of the English Church. Being yet in his long Coats, (which heretofore were usually worn beyond the years of Infancy,) he was sent to Eton School; where his pregnancy having been advantaged by the more than paternal care and industry of his Father (who was an exact Critic in the learned Languages, especially the Greek) became the observation of those that knew him: for in that tenderness of age he was not only a Proficient in Greek and Latin, but had also some knowledge in the Elements of Hebrew: in the later of which Tongues, it being then rarely heard of even out of Grammar Schools, he grew the Tutor of those who begun to write themselves men, but thought it no shame to learn of one whose knowledge seemed rather infused then acquired; or in whom the learned Languages might be thought to be the Mother-Tongue. His skill in Greek was particularly advantaged by the conversation and kindness of Mr Allen, one of the Fellows of the College, excellently seen in that Language, and a great assistant of Sr Henry Savile in his magnificent edition of St chrysostom. His sweetness of Carriage is very particularly remembered by his Contemporaries, who observed that he was never engaged (upon any occasion) into fights or quarrels; as also that at times allowed for Play, he would steal from his fellows into places of privacy, there to say his Prayers: Omens of his future pacific temper and eminent Devotion. Which softness of temper his Schoolmaster Mr Bush, who upon his Father's account had a tender kindness for him, looked upon with some jealousy; for he building upon the general observation, that Gravity and Passiveness in Children is not from discretion but phlegm, suspected that his Scholars faculties would desert his Industry, and end only in a laborious well-read nonproficiency: but the Event gave a full and speedy defeat to those well-meant misgivings; for he so emprov'd that at Thirteen years old he was thought, and (what is much more rare) was indeed ripe for the University, and accordingly sent to Magdalen College in Oxford, where not long after he was chosen Demie; and though he stood low upon the roll, by a very unusual concurrence of providential Events, happened to be sped: and though having then lost his Father, he became destitute of the advantage which potent recommendation might have given, yet his merit voting for him, as soon as capable, he was chosen Fellow. Being to proceed Mr of Arts, he was made Reader of the natural Philosophy Lecture in the College, and also was employed in making the Funeral Oration on the highly-meriting Precedent Dr Langton. Having taken His Degree, he presently bought a Systeme of Divinity, with design to apply himself straightway to that study: but upon second thoughts he returned for a time to Humane Learning, and afterwards, when he resumed his purpose for Theology, took a quite different Course of reading from the other too much usual, beginning that Science at the upper end, as conceiving it most reasonable to search for primitive Truth in the primitive Writers, and not to suffer his Understanding to be prepossessed by the contrived and interessed Schemes of modern, and withal obnoxious, Authors. Anno 1629. being twenty four years of age, the Statutes of his House directing, and the Canons of the Church then regularly permitting it, he entered into Holy Orders, and upon the same grounds not long after took the degree of Bachelor in Divinity, giving as happy proof of his proficiency in Sacred, as before he had done in Secular knowledge. During the whole time of his abode in the University he generally spent 13 hours of the day in Study; by which assiduity, besides an exact dispatch of the whole Course of Philosophy, he read over in a manner all Classic Authors that are extant; and upon the more considerable wrote, as he passed, Scholia and critical emendations, and drew up Indices for his private use at the beginning and end of each book: all which remain at this time, and testify his indefatigable pains to as many as have perused his Library. In the year 1633. the Reverend Dr Frewen, the then Precedent of his College, now Lord Archbishop of York, gave him the honour to supply one of his courses at the Court; where the right Honourable the Earl of Leicester happening to be an Auditor, he was so deeply affected with the Sermon, and took so just a measure of the merit of the Preacher thence, that the Rectory of Pensehurst being at that time void, and in his gift, he immediately offered him the presentation: which being accepted, he was inducted on the 22 of August in the same year; and thenceforth from the Scholastic retirements of an University life, applied himself to the more busy Entertainments of a rural privacy, and what some have called the being buried in a Living: and being to leave the House, he thought not fit to take that advantage of his place, which from Sacrilege or selling of the Founder's Charity, was by custom grown to be prudence and good husbandry. In the discharge of his Ministerial function, he satisfied not himself in diligent and constant Preaching only; (a performance wherein some of late have fancied all Religion to consist) but much more conceived himself obliged to the offering up the solemn daily Sacrifice of Prayer for his people, administering the Sacraments, relieving the poor, keeping Hospitality, reconciling of differences amongst Neighbours, Visiting the sick, Catechising the youth. As to the first of these, his Preaching, 'twas not at the ordinary rate of the Times, an unpremeditated, undigested effusion of shallow and crude conceptions; but a rational and just discourse, that was to teach the Priest as well as the Lay-hearer. His Method was (which likewise he recommended to his friends) after every Sermon to resolve upon the ensuing Subject; that being done, to pursue the course of study which he was then in hand with, reserving the Close of the Week for the provision for the next Lordsday. Whereby not only a constant progress was made in Science, but materials unawares were gained unto the immediate future Work: for, he said, be the Subjects treated of never so distant, somewhat will infallibly fall in conducible unto the present purpose. The offices of Prayer he had in his Church, not only upon the Sundays and Festivals and their Eves, as also Wednesdays and Fridays, according to the appointment of the Rubric; (which strict duty and ministration when 'tis examined to the bottom will prove the greatest objection against the Liturgy; as that which, besides its own trouble and austerity, leaves no leisure for factious and licentious meetings at Fairs and Markets) but every day in the week, and twice on Saturdays and Holiday Eves: For his assistance wherein he kept a Curate, and allowed him a comfortable Salary. And at those Devotions he took order that his Family should give diligent and exemplary attendance: which was the easilier performed, it being guided by his Mother, a woman of ancient Virtue, and one to whom he paid a more than filial Obedience. As to the Administration of the Sacrament, he reduced it to an imitation, though a distant one, of Primitive frequency, to once a month, and therewith it's anciently inseparable Appendent, the Offertory: wherein his instruction and happily-insinuating Example so far prevailed, that there was thenceforth little need of ever making any tax for the poor. Nay, (if the report of a sober person born and bred up in that Parish, be to be believed) in short time a stock was raised to be always ready for the apprentising of young Children, whose Parents condition made the provision for them an equal Charity to both the Child and Parent. And after this there yet remained a Superplusage for the assistance of the neighbour Parishes. For the Relief of the Poor, besides the forementioned Expedient, wherein others were sharers with him, unto his private Charity, the dedicating the tenth of all receipts, and the daily Alms given at the door, he constantly set apart over and above every week a certain rate in money: and however rarely his own rent-dayes occurred, the indigent had two and fifty quarter-days returning in his year. Yet farther, another art of Charity he had, the selling Corn to his poor Neighbours at a rate below the Market-price: which though, as he said, he had reason to do, gaining thereby the charge of portage; was a great benefit to them, who besides the abatement of price, and possibly forbearance, saved thereby a daies-work. He that was thus liberal to the necessitous poor, was no less hospitable to those of better quality: and as at other times he frequently invited his Neighbours to his table, so more especially on Sundays; which seldom passed at any time without bringing some of them his guests: but here beyond the Weekly treatments, the Christmas Festival had a peculiar allowance to support it. He knew well how much the application at the Table inforc'd the doctrines of the Pulpit, and how subservient the endearing of his person was to the recommending his instructions, how far upon these motives our Saviour thought fit to eat with publicans and sinners, and how effectual the loaves were to the procuring of Disciples. In accordance to which his generous freedom in Alms and Hospitality, he farther obliged his Parishioners in the setting of their Tithes and Deuce belonging to him: for though he very well understood how prone men are to give complaints in payment, and how little obligation there is on him that lets a bargain to consider the casual loss, who is sure never to share in a like surplusage of gain; yet herein he frequently departed from his right, in somuch that having set the tithe of a large Meadow, and upon agreement received part of the money at the beginning of the year; it happening that the profits were afterwards spoiled and carried away by a flood, he, when the Tenant came to make the last payment, not only refused it, but returned the former sum, saying to the poor man, God forbid I should take the Tenth where you have not the nine parts. As by public admonition he most diligently instilled that great fundamental doctrine of Peace and Love, so did he likewise in his private address and conversation, being never at peace in himself, till he had procured it amongst his Neighbours; wherein God so blest him, that he not only attained his purpose of uniting distant parties unto each other, but, contrary to the usual fate of reconcilers, gained them to himself: there having been no person of his function any where better beloved than he when present, or lamented more when absent, by his flock. Of which tender and very filial affection, in stead of more, we may take two instances: the one, that he being driven away, and his books plundered, one of his Neighbours bought them in his behalf, and preserved them for him till the end of the War: the other, that during his abode at Pensehurst he never had any vexatious law dispute about his deuce, but had his Tithes fully paid, and not of the most refuse parts, but generally the very best. Though he judged the time of Sickness an improper season for the great Work of Repentance; yet he esteemed it a most useful preparative, the voice of God himself exhorting to it: and therefore not only when desired made his Visits to all such as stood in need of those his charities, but prevented their requests by early and by frequent coming to them. And this he was so careful of, that after his remove from Penseburst, being at Oxford, and hearing of the Sickness of one of his Parishioners, he from thence sent to him those instructions which he judged useful in that Exigent, and which he could not give at nearer distance. For the institution of Youth in the rudiments of Piety, his Custom was, during the warmer season of the year, to spend an hour before Evening-prayer in Catechifing, whereat the Parents and older sort were wont to be present, and from whence (as he with comfort was used to say) they reaped more benefit than from his Sermons. Where it may not be superfluous to observe that he introduced no new form of Catechism, but adhered to that of the Church; rendering it fully intelligible to the meanest capacities by his explanations. It may be useful withal to advert, that if in those times Catechetical institution were very seasonable, 'twill now be much more; when Principles have been exchanged for dreams of words and notions; if not for a worse season of profane contempt of Christian truth. But to return; Besides all this, that there might be no imaginable assistance wanting, he took care for the providing an able Schoolmaster in the Parish, which he continued during the whole time of his abode. And as he thus laboured in the Spiritual building up of Souls, he was not negligent of the material fabric committed to his trust: but repaired with a very great Expense (the annual charge of 100 l.) his Parsonage-house; till from an incommodious ruin he had rendered it a fair and pleasant dwelling, with the adherent conveniences of Gardens and Orchards. While he was thus busy on his Charge, though he so prodigally laid out himself upon the interests of his Flock, as he might seem to have nothing left for other purposes; and his Humility recommended above all things Privacy and Retirement to him: yet when the uses of the Public called him forth, he readily obeyed the summons, and frequently preached both at St Paul's Cross, and the Visitations of his brethren the Clergy, (a Specimen whereof appears in print) as also at the Cathedral Church of Chichester, where by the unsought-for favour of the Reverend Father in God, Brian, then Ld Bishop of that See, since of Winchester, he had an interest, and had the dignity of archdeacon: which at the beginning of the late Troubles falling to him, he managed with great zeal and prudence, not only by all the charms of Christian Rhetoric, persuading to Obedience and Union, but by the force of demonstration, charging it as most indispensable duty, and (what was then not so readily believed) the greatest temporal interest of the inferior Clergy: wherein the eminent importance of the Truths he would enforce so far prevailed over his otherwise-insuperable Modesty, that in a full Assembly of the Clergy, as he afterwards confessed, he broke off from what he had premeditated, and out of the abundance of his heart spoke to his Auditory; and by the blessing of God, to which he attributed it, found a very signal reception. In the year 1639. he proceeded Doctor in Divinity, his Seniority in the University, and employment in the Church, and (what perchance was a more importunate motive) the desire of Eleven of his Friends and Contemporaries in the same House, whom not to accompany might be interpreted an affected pride and singularity, at least an unkindness, jointly persuading him to it. His performance in the Act, where he answered the Doctors, was to the equal satisfaction and wonder of his Hearers; a Country-life usually contracting at the least an unreadiness to the dextrous management of those Exercises, which was an Effect undiscernible in him. About this time he became a Member of the Convocation called with the short Parliament in 1640. as after this he was named to be of the Assembly of Divines; his invincible Loyalty to his Prince and Obedience to his Mother the Church not being so valid arguments against his nomination, as the repute of his Learning and Virtue were on the other part, to have some title to him. And now that Conformity became a Crime, and Tumults improving into Hostility and War, such a Crime as had chastisements severe enough; though the Committee of the Country summoned him before them, and used those their best arguments of persuasion, threatenings and reproaches, he still went on in his regular practice, and continued it till the middle of July 1643. At which time there being in his Neighbourhood about Tunbridge an attempt in behalf of the King, and his Doctrine and Example having had that good influence, as it was supposed, to have made many more ready to the discharge of their duty; it being defeated, the good Doctor (the malice of one who designed to succeed in his Living being withal assistant) was forced to secure himself by retirement; which he did, withdrawing himself to his old Tutor Dr Buckner; to whom he came about the 25 of July early in the Morning in such an habit as that Exigence made necessary for him, and whither not many days before his old Friend and Fellow-pupil D r Oliver came upon the same Errand. Which accident, and the necessity to leave his Flock, as the Dr afterwards frequently acknowledged, was that which did most affect him of any that he felt in his whole life: amidst which, though he was no valuer of trifles, or any thing that looked like such, he had so extraordinary a Dream, that he could not then despise, nor ever afterwards forget it. 'Twas thus; He thought himself and a multitude of others to have been abroad in a bright and cheerful day, when on a sudden there seemed a separation to be made, and he with the far less number to be placed at a distance from the rest; and then the Clouds gathering, a most tempestuous Storm arose, with thundering and lightnings, with spouts of impetuous rain, and violent gusts of wind, and whatever else might add unto a scene of horror; particularly balls of fire that shot themselves amongst the ranks of those that stood in the lesser party: When a gentle Whisper seemed to interrupt those other louder noises, saying, Be still, and ye shall receive no harm. Amidst these terrors the Doctor falling to his Prayers, soon after the Tempest ceased, and that known Cathedral-Antheme begun, Come, Lord Jesus, come away; with which he awoke. The correspondent Event of all which he found verified signally in the preservation both of himself and his friends, in doing of their duties; the which with much content he was used to mention. Beside, being himself taken to the Quires of Angels at the close of that Land- Hurrican of ours, whereof that dismal apparition was only a faint Emblem; he gave thereby too literal a completion to his Dream, and the unhappy credit of bordering upon Prophecy. In this retirement the two Doctors remained about three weeks, till an alarm was brought, that a strict enquiry was made for Doctor Hammond, and 100 l. promised as a reward for him that should produce him. Which suggestion though they easily apprehended to have a posiblity of being false, yet they concluded a necessary ground for their remove. Upon this they resolve to be gone; and Dr Oliver having an interest in Winchester, which was then in the King's Quarters, they chose that as the next place of their retreat. But being on the way thither, Dr Oliver, who had sent his Servant before to make provision for them, was met and saluted with the News that Doctor Frewen, Precedent of Magdalen College, was made Bishop of Litchfield, and that the College had pitched upon him as Successor. This unlooked-for accident (as justly it might) put Doctor Oliver to new counsels; and since Providence had found out so seasonable a relief, inclined him not to desert it, but fly rather to his Preferments and advantage, then merely to his refuge, and so to divert to Oxford. To this Dr Hammond made much difficulty to assent, thinking that too public a place, and, what he more considered, too far from his Living, whither (his desires strongly inclining him) he had hopes (when the present fury was allayed) to return again; and to that purpose had wrote to such Friends of his as were in power, to use their Interest for the procuring his Security. But his Letters meeting a cold reception, and the company of his Friend on one hand, and the appearance of deserting him on the other hand, charming him to it, he was at last persuaded; and encompassing Hantshire with some difficulty came to Oxford: Where procuring an apartment in his old College, he sought that peace in his Retirement and Study which was no where else to be met withal; taking no other diversion then what the giving Encouragement and instruction to ingenious young Students yielded him, (a thing wherein he peculiarly delighted) and the satisfaction which he received from the conversation of Learned men; who, besides the usual store, in great number at that time for their Security resorted thither. Among the many Eminent persons with whom he here conversed, he had particular intimacy with Dr Potter Provost of Qs College, to whom among other fruits of his Studies he communicated his Practical Catechism, which for his private use he had drawn up. The Provost much taken with the design, and no less with the performance, importuned him to make it public; alleging, in that lawless Age the great use of supplanting the empty form of Godliness which so prevailed, by substituting of its real power and sober duties; of silencing Profaneness, which then usurped the names of Wit and Gallantry, by enforcing the more eligible acts of the Christians reasonable service, which was not any other way so happily to be done, as by beginning at the foundation by sound, and yet not trivial, Catechetick institution. It was not hard to convince Dr Hammond that 'twere well if some such thing were done; but that his Writing would do this in any measure, or that he should suffer his Name to become public, it was impossible to persuade him. The utmost he could be brought to allow of was, that his Treatise was not likely to do harm, but had possibilities of doing (it might be) some good, and that it would not become him to deny that service to the World; especially if his Modesty might be secured from pressure by the concealing of him to be the Author. And this Doctor Potter, that he might leave no subterfuge, undertook, and withal the whole care of, and besides the whole charge of the Edition. Upon these terms, only with this difference, that Doctor Hammond would not suffer the Provost to be at the entire charge, but went an equal share with him, the Practical Catechism saw the light, and likewise the Author remained in his desired obscurity. But in the mean time the Book finding the reception which it merited, the good Doctor was by the same arguments constrained to give way to the publishing of several other Tracts which he had written upon heads that were then most perverted by popular Error; as of Conscience, of Scandal, of Will-worship, of Resisting the lawful Magistrate, and of the Change of Church-Government; his Name all this while concealed, and so preserved, till Curiosity improving its guesses into confident asseverations, he was rumoured for the Author, and as such published to the world by the London and Cambridge Stationers, who without his knowledge reprinted those and other of his Works. In the interim a Treaty being laboured by his Majesty, to compose (if it were possible) the unhappy differences in Church and State, and in order thereunto the Duke of Richmond and Earl of Southampton being sent to London; Doctor Hammond went along as Chaplain to them; where with great zeal and prudence, he laboured to undeceive those seduced persons whom he had opportunity to converse with: and when the Treaty was solemnly appointed at Uxbridge, several Divines being sent thither in behalf of the different parties, he, among other excellent men that adhered to the King, was made choice of to assist in that Employment. And there (not to mention the debates between the Commissioners, which were long since published by an Honourable hand) Doctor Steward and Master Henderson were at first only admitted to dispute; though at the second meeting the other Divines were called in: which thing was a surprise, and designed for such, to those of the King's part, who came as Chaplains and private Attendants on the Lords; but was before projected and prepared for by those of the Presbyterian way. And in this conflict it was the lot of Doctor Hammond to have Master Vines for his antagonist; who in stead of tendering a Scholastic disputation, read from a paper a long Divinity-lecture, wherein were interwoven several little Cavils and Exceptions, which were meant for Arguments. Doctor Hammond perceiving this, drew forth his Pen and Ink, and as the other was reading, took notes of what was said, and then immediately returned in order an answer to the several suggestions, which were about forty in number: which he did with that readiness and sufficiency, as at once gave testimony to his ability, and to the evidence of the Truth he asserted; which amidst the disadvantage of Extempore against Premeditation, dispelled with ease and perfect clearness all the Sophisms that had been brought against him. 'Tis not the present work to give an account of that whole Dispute, or character the merits of those Worthy Persons who were engaged in it, either in that or the succeeding meetings: especially since it was resolved by both parties, that the transactions of neither side should be made public. But notwithstanding this, since divers persons addicted to the defence of a side, without any further consideration of Truth or common Honesty, have in this particular wounded the Doctor's reputation; I shall take leave to say, that had the Victories in the field which were managed by the Sword been like this of the Chamber and the Tongue, a very easy Act of Oblivion must have atoned for them; since what never was, without much industry might be secured from being remembered. The impudent Falsity raised upon the Doctor was this, That Mr Vines utterly silenced him; insomuch that he was fain to use this unheard-of Stratagem to avoid his Adversaries demonstration, to swear by God and the holy Angels, that though at present a Solution did not occur to him, he could answer it. Concerning this we have the Doctors own account in a Letter of his bearing date Jan. 22. Ann. 1655. directed to a friend who had advertised him of this report. I have formerly been told within these few years that there went about a Story much to my disparagement, concerning the Dispute at Uxbridge (for there it was, not at Holdenby) with Mr Vines; but what it was I could never hear before: Now I do, I can, I think, truly affirm, that no one part of it hath any degree of truth, save only that Mr Vines did dispute against, and I defend, Episcopacy. For as to the Argument mentioned, I did neither then, nor at any time of my life, (that I can remember) ever hear it urged by any. And for my pretended Answer, I am both sure that I never called God and his holy Angels to witness any thing in my life, nor ever swore one voluntary Oath that I know of, (and sure there was then none imposed on me) and that I was not at that Meeting conscious to myself of wanting ability to express my thoughts, or pressed with any considerable difficulty, or forced by any consideration to wave the answer of any thing objected. A Story of that whole affair I am yet able to tell you; but I cannot think it necessary. Only this I may add, That after it I went to Mr Martial in my own and brethren's names, to demand three things; 1. Whether any Argument proposed by them remained unanswered, to which we might yield farther answer: 2. Whether they intended to make any report of the past-disputation; offering, if they would, to join with them in it, and to perfect a Conference by mutual Consent, after the manner of that between Dr Reynolds and Mr Hart: both which being rejected, the 3. was, to promise each other that nothing should be afterwards published by either without the Consent or knowledge of the other party. And that last he promised for himself and his brethren, and so we parted. But while these things were in doing, a Canonry in Christ-Church in Oxford became vacant, which the King immediately bestowed on Doctor Hammond, though then absent; whom likewise the University chose their public Orator: which Preferments though collated so freely, and in a time of Exigence, he was with much difficulty wrought upon by his Friends to accept, as minding nothing so much as a return to his old Charge at Pensehurst. But the impossibility of a sudden opportunity of going thither being evident unto him, he at last accepted; and was soon after made Chaplain in Ordinary to his Majesty. But these new Employments no way diverted him from his former tasks; for, according to his wont Method, he continued to address remedies to the increasing Mischiefs of the Times, and published the Tracts of Superstition, Idolatry, Sins of Weakness and Wilfulness, Deathbed Repentance, View of the Directory; as also in answer to a Romanist, who taking advantage of the public Ruin, hoped to erect thereon Trophies to the Capitol; his Vindication of the Lord Falkland, who was not long before fallen in another kind of War. But now the King's affairs declining every where, and Oxford being forced upon Articles to surrender to the Enemy, where after the expiration of six months all things were to be left to the lust and fury of a servile, and therefore insolent, Conqueror; though he foresaw a second and more fatal siege approaching, a leaguer of encamped inevitable mischiefs; yet he remitted nothing of his wont Industry, writing his Tracts of Fraternal Correption, and Power of the Keys, and Apologies by Letter against the Pulpit-Calumnies of Mr Cheynel, and the Exceptions taken at his Practical Catechism. In the mean time his Sacred Majesty, sold by his Scotish into the hands of his English Subjects, and brought a Prisoner to Holdenby, where stripped of all His Royal Attendants, and denied that common Charity which is afforded the worst of Malefactors, the assistance of Divines, though he with importunity desired it; He being taken from the Parliament Commissioners into the possession of the Army, at last obtained that kindness from them (who were to be cruel at another rate) which was withheld by the two Houses, and was permitted the service of some few of his Chaplains, whom he by name had sent for, and among them of Doctor Hammond. Accordingly the good Doctor attended on his Master in the several removes of Woburn, Cavesham and Hampton-Court, as also thence into the Isle of Wight, where he continued till Christmas 1647. at which time His Majesty's Attendants were again put from Him, and he amongst the rest. Sequestered from this his melancholic, but most desired, Employment, he returned again to Oxford: where being chosen Subdean, an Office to which belongs much of the Scholastic government of the College, and soon after proved to be the whole, (the Dean, for the guilt of asserting the Rights of His Majesty and University in his station of Vicechancellor, being made a Prisoner,) he undertook the entire Management of all affairs; and discharged it with great sufficiency and admirable diligence, leaving his beloved studies to interest himself not only in moderating at Divinity-disputations, which was then an immediate part of his Task, but in presiding at the more youthful Exercises of Sophistry, Themes and Declamations; redeeming still at night these Vacuities of the day, scarce ever going to bed till after midnight, sometimes not till three in the morning, and yet certainly rising to prayers at five. Nor did his inspection content itself in looking to the general performances of duty, but descended to an accurate survey of every ones both practice and ability; so that this large Society of Scholars appeared his private Family, he scarce leaving any single person without some mark or other of both his Charity and Care, relieving the necessitous in their several wants of Money and of Books, shaming the vicious to Sobriety, encouraging the ingenuous to Diligence, and finding stratagems to ensnare the idle to a love of Study. But above all he endeavoured to prepare his charge for the reception of the impending Persecution; that they might adorn their Profession, and not at the same time suffer for a Cause of Righteousness, and as Evil-doers. To this End he both admitted and solemnly invited all sober persons to his familiarity and converse; and beside that, received them to his weekly private Office of Fasting and Humiliation. But now the long-expected Ruin breaking in with its full weight and torrent, the Visitors chafed with their former disappointments and delays, coming with hunter's stomaches, and design to boot, for to seize first and then devour the prey, by a new method of judicature being to kill and then take possession; the Excellent Doctor became involved in the general Calamity. And whereas the then usual Law of Expulsion was immediately to banish into the wide world by beat of Drum, enjoining to quit the Town within 24 hours upon pain of being taken and used as Spies, and not to allow the unhappy Exiles time for the dispose either of their private affairs, or stating the accounts of their respective Colleges or Pupils; the Reverend Doctor Sheldon, now Lord Bishop of London, and Dean of His Majesty's Chapel Royal, and Doctor Hammond, were submitted to a contrary fate, and by an Order from a Committee of Parliament were restrained and voted to be prisoners in that place, from which all else were so severely driven. But such was the authority and command of Exemplary Virtue, that the person designed to succeed in the Canonry of Christ Church, though he had accepted of the place at London, and done his Exercise for it at Oxford, acting as public Orator in flattering there the then-pretending Chancellor, yet had not courage to pursue his undertaking, but voluntarily relinquished that infamous robbery, and adhered to a less scandalous one in the Country. And then the Officer who was commanded to take Doctor Sheldon and him into Custody upon their designed removal, Colonel Evelin, than Governor of Wallingford-Castle, (though a man of as opposite principles to Church and Churchmen as any of the adverse party) wholly declined the employment, solemnly protesting that if they came to him, they should be entertained as Friends, and not as Prisoners. But these remorses proved but of little effect; the Prebend of Christ-Church being suddenly supplied by a second choice, and Oxford itself being continued the place of their Confinement: Where accordingly the good Doctor remained, though he were demanded by His Majesty to attend Him in the Isle of Wight at the Treaty there, which then was again reinforced. The pretence upon which both he and the Reverend Doctor Sheldon were refused was that they were Prisoners; and probably the gaining that was the cause why they were so. But notwithstanding the denial of a personal Attendance, the Excellent Prince required that assistance which might consist with absence, and at this time sent for a Copy of that Sermon which almost a year before He had heard preached in that place. The which Sermon his Majesty, and thereby the public, received with the accession of several others delivered upon various Occasions. Doctor Hammond having continued about ten weeks in his restraint in Oxford, where he begun to actuate his design of writing Annotations on the New Testament, (nor was it disproportionate that those Sacred Volumes, a great part of which was wrote in bonds, should be first commented upon by the very parallel suffering, and that the Work itself should be so dedicated, and the Expositor fitted for his task by being made like the Authors) by the interposition of his Brother in Law, Sir John Temple, he had licence granted to be removed to a more acceptable confinement, to Clapham in Bedfordshire, the House in which his worthy Friend Sir Philip Warwick lived. Where soon after his arrival, that horrid mockery of Justice, the rape and violence of all that's Sacred, made more abominable by pretending to Right and Piety, the Trial of the King, drew on; and he being in no other capacity to interpose then by writing, drew up an Address to the General and Council of Officers, and transmitted it to them. And when that unexampled VILLAINY found this Excuse, that it was such as could be pleaded for, and men in cool blood would dare to own and justify, he affixed his Reply to the suggestions of Ascham and Goodwin. And now although he indulged to his just and almost-infinite Griefs, which were transported to the utmost bounds of sober Passion, the affectionate personal respect he bore unto that glorious Victim being added to the detestation due unto the guilt itself, of which no man was more sensible than he who had strange antipathies to all sin, he gave not up himself to an unactive dull amazement; but with the redoubled use of Fasting, Tears and solemn Prayer, he resumed his wont Studies; and besides his fitting the Annotations for the Press, and his little Tract of the Reasonableness of Christian Religion, he now composed his Latin one against Blondel in the behalf of Episcopacy. As to the first of which, (his Annotations,) the manner of its birth and growth was thus. Having written in Latin two large volumes in Quarto of the way of interpreting the New Testament, with reference to the customs of the Jews and of the first Heretics in the Christian Church, and of the Heathens, especially in the Grecian games, and above all the importance of the Hellenistical Dialect, into which he had made the exactest search (by which means in a manner he happened to take in all the difficulties of that Sacred Book:) he began to consider that it might be more useful to the English Reader, who was to be his immediate Care, to write in our vulgar Language, and set every Observation in its natural order, according to the guidance of the Text. And having some years before collated several Greek Copies of the New Testament, observed the variation of our English from the Original, and made an entire Translation of the whole for his private use; being thus prepared, he cast his work into that form in which it now appears. The reasons of it need not to be here inserted, being set down by his own Pen in his Preface to his Annotations. The Tractate against Blondel grew to its last form and constitution by not-unlike degrees, having a very different occasion from the last performance. The immediate antecedent cause is owned, and long ago presented to the World in that writing; the more remote Original is as follows. The late most Learned Primate of Armagh having received from Dau. Blondel a Letter of Exception against his Edition of Ignatius, he communicated it to Doctor Hammond, desiring his sense of several passages therein contained, relating to the Valentinian Heresy, Episcopal and Chorepiscopal power, and some emergent difficulties concerning them, from the Canons of several ancient Eastern Councils. To all this the Doctor wrote a peculiar answer, promising a fuller account if it would be useful. Upon the receipt whereof the Archbishop being highly satisfied, returned his thanks, and laid hold of the Promise: which being accordingly discharged, became the provision (and gave materials) to a great part of the Dissertations. The Primate's Letter ran in these words: I have read with great delight and content your accurate Answer to the Objections made against the credit of Ignatius his Epistles, for which I do most heartily thank you, and am moved thereby farther to entreat you, to publish to the World in Latin what you have already written in English against this Objector, and that other, who for your pains hath rudely requited you with the base appellation of Nebulo for the assertion of Episcopacy: to the end it may no longer be credited abroad, that these two have beaten down this Calling, that the defence thereof is now deserted by all men, as by Lud. Capellus is intimated in his Thesis of Church-government, at Sedan lately published, which I leave unto your serious Consideration, and all your Godly labours to the blessing of our good God, in whom I evermore rest, Rygate in Surrey, Jul. 21. 1649. Your very loving Friend and Brother, Ja. Armachanus. Now in this request the Archbishop was so concerned, that he reinforced it by another Letter of Aug. 30. and congratulated the performance by a third of Jan. 14. Both which, though very worthy to see the public light, are yet forborn, as several of the like kind from the Reverend Fathers the Bishops of this and our Sister Churches, as also from the most eminent for Piety and Learning of our own and the neighbouring Nations: which course is taken not only in accordance to the desires and sentiments of the Excellent Doctor, who hated every thing that looked like Ostentation; but likewise to avoid the very unpleasing choice, either to take the trouble of recounting all the Doctor's Correspondencies, or bear the envy of omitting some. But to return to the present task, and that of the good Doctor, which now was to perfect his Commentaries on the New Testament, and finish the Dissertations: amidst which cares he met with another of a more importunate nature, the loss of his dear Mother, which had this unhappy accession, that in her Sickness he could not be permitted, by reason of his being concerned in the Proclamation that banished those that adher'd to the King twenty miles from London, to visit her; nor while she paid her latest debt to Nature, to pay his earlier one of filial homage and attendance. A few months after, the rigour of that restraint with the declining of the year (a season judged less commodious for Enterprise) being taken off, he removed into Worcestershire, to Westwood, the House of the eminently-Loyal Sr John Pakington: where being settled, and proceeding in the edition of those his Labours which he had begun at Clapham, his Majesty coming to Worcester, by his neighbourhood to that place, the good Doctor, as he had the satisfaction personally to attend his Sovereign, and the honour to receive a Letter from his own hand of great importance, for the satisfaction of his Loyal Subjects concerning his adherence to the established Religion of the Church of England, wherein his Royal Father lived a Saint, and died a Martyr: so likewise had he on the other part the most immediate agonies for his defeat; to which was added the Calamity which fell upon the Family where he dwelled, from the Persecution and danger of the generous Master of it. But it pleased God to give an issue out of both those difficulties, especially in the miraculous deliverance of his Sacred Majesty; a dispensation of so signal an importance, that he allowed it a solemn recognition in his constant offices during his whole life, receiving that unusual interposition of Providence as a pledge from Heaven of an arrier of mercies, to use his own words, That God, who had thus powerfully rescued him from Egypt, would not suffer him to perish in the Wilderness; but though his passage be through the Red Sea, he would at last bring him into Canaan; that he should come out of his tribulations as gold out of the fire, purified, but not consumed. But notwithstanding these reflections, bottomed upon Piety and reliance upon Heaven, the present state of things had a quite different prospect in common eyes; and the generality of men thinking their Religion as troublesome a burden as their Loyalty, with the same prudence by which they changed their mild and gracious Sovereign for a bloody TYRANT, began to seek a pompous and imperious Church abroad, in stead of a pious and afflicted one at home. To which Event the Roman Missionaries gave their liberal contribution, affording their preposterous Charity to make them Proselytes who had no mind to be Confessors or Martyrs. Hereupon the Doctor thought it highly seasonable to write his Tract of Schism, and oppose it to that most popular topic whereby they amused and charmed their fond Disciples. And whereas the love of Novelty prevai'ld in several other instances, as in controlling the use and authority of the Scripture, defending incestuous Marriages, Polygamy, Divorce, the anabaptizing of Infants, the schismatical Ordination of Ministers by mere Presbyters, and disuse of the Festivals of the Church; he applied his Antidotes to each: by which means he made himself the common mark of opposition to all parties. For (besides the assaults from a whole Classis of Antagonists which the Dissertations had engaged against him, and to which he was preparing his defence) upon the Romanists part he was charged by the Catholic Gentleman and his armour-bearer S. W. on the Presbyterian account by Mr Cawdry and Mr Jeanes; and in the behalf of the Independents and Anabaptists by Master Owen and Master Tombs: not to mention several others that sought themselves a name by being his gainsayers, but failed of their purpose, by bringing only spite and passion into the quarrel, and so were to be answered only by pity and silence. Nor did he only stand and keep at bay this multiplied contest; but (as if this had not been task enough) besides the intercurrent offices of life, his reception of Visits, answering of Letters, his constant Preaching and Catechising, he found leisure to write his Tract of Fundamentals, his Paraenesis, his Review of the Annotations; and amidst all, to be in debt to his importunate Antagonists for nothing but their Railing, leaving that the only thing unanswered. Nay more than so, brought several of them even under their own hands to recognize their sense of their undue procedure used by them unto him: which their acknowledgements yet remain, and are producible upon occasion. And would to God he had met no other opposition; for in the entrance on these conflicts that strength of Body which before had faithfully attended his indefatigable Mind began to fail him, and those four torments of disease, which single have been judged a competent trial of humane sufferance, the Stone, the Gout, the Colic, and the Cramp, (the last of which was to him as tyrannous as any of the former) became in a manner the constant exercise of his Christian Fortitude and Patience; affording him from this time to the end of his life very rare and short intervals of vigorous Health. But among all his Labours, although Polemic discourses were otherwise most uneasy, as engaging to converse with men in Passion, a thing he naturally abhorred, his Paraenesis, a persuasive and practical Tract (which now he wrote, and which upon that account was exceeding agreeable to his desires) cost him most throes and pangs of birth, as having been penned first in Tears, and then in Ink. For however with great serenity he entertained all other accidents, having habituated himself to his beloved doctrine of submitting not to the Will of God alone, but to his Wisdom, both which he was used to say were perfectly one thing in that blessed Agent, (and accordingly in the most dismal appearance of Event made this constant Motto, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Even this for good;) yet in this instance the tenderness of his Soul seemed to have melted his resolution: the occasion of that Treatise being the interdict of Jan. 1655. which disabled the Loyal suffering Clergy from doing any Ministerial act, which he resented with the highest passion, not only upon the general account of God's more immediate displeasure to the Nation legible therein, but (what he had much less reason to do) in reference to his own particular, he looking on this dispensation of Providence as God's pronouncing him unworthy to do him Service, the reproaching (to use his own words) his former unprofitableness by casting him out as straw to the dunghill. Nor should any consideration that terminated on himself have persuaded him at all to regard that tyrannous injunction, had not Charity to the Family where he was made him content to admit of an Expedient that secured all real duties, whilst he for some short time forbore that attendance on the Altar which was the very joy of his life. And now, though his Physicians had earnestly forbidden his accustomed Fast, and his own weaknesses gave forcible suffrages to their advice; yet he resumed his rigours, esteeming this calamity such a one as admitted no exception, which should not be outlived, but that it became men to be Martyrs too, and deprecate even in death. While he thus earnestly implored the aides of Heaven, and exhorted unto present Duty, he omitted not a third Expedient, the securing a Succession to the Church, thereby to preserve its future being. And this he did not only in reference to the superior order of Episcopacy, which it has pleased God now to secure by another more gracious method of his favour, and even miraculous goodness; but also in the inferior attendance on the Altar: the later of which as it was an Enterprise suiting well with his heroic Mind, so was it no way answering his narrow Fortunes. The thing in his design was this; Whereas the ancient stock of Clergymen were by this Edict in a manner rendered useless, and the Church was at best like the Roman State in its first beginning, res unius aetatis populus Virorum, a Nation of ancient persons hasting to their graves, who must in a few years be wasted; he projected by Pensions unto hopeful persons in either University, to maintain a Seminary of Youth instituted in Piety and Learning upon the sober Principles and old establishment of the Anglicane Church. In which work though the assistances he presumed on failed in a great measure, yet somewhat not inconsiderable in this kind by himself and friends he did achieve, and kept on foot until his death. In his instructions to them whom he employed in this affair, he gave in charge carefully to seek out such as were piously inclined, and to prefer that qualification before unsanctified good parts; adding this as a certain Maxim, that Exemplary Virtue must restore the Church. And whereas that black Defeat at Worcester, raising the insolent Tyrant here unto that Greatness which almost out went the impudence of his hopes, made him to be feared by foreign Nations almost as much as hated by his own, the Loyal Sufferers abroad became subjected to the worst effect of Banishment, and even there expelled and driven from their flights: so paralleling in their Exigencies the most immediate objects of that Monster's fury. The Excellent Doctor, to whose diffusive Virtue the limits of the Nation were too straight a Circle, thought this a season to exert his Charity: accordingly, though this greatest duty were solemnly declared Treason, he then continued to send over several Sums for their relief. Which practice of his, by the surprise of the person entrusted, being discovered to the Tyrant, he was alarmed with the expectation of that usage which was then a certain consequent of such meritorious acts. But this adventure brought nothing of amazement or disturbance to the Doctor, his most importunate reflection being only this, that he seemed to have gained an opportunity of saying something very home to that fierce Monster concerning his foul deeds, and to discourse the appropriate ways remaining to alleviate at least, if not to expiate for them; which he purposed within himself to press to the highest advantage: and indeed this was the only issue of that so threatening accident, God's restraining power interposing here, and exemplifying upon him what in others he was wont to observe, that they who least considered hazard in the doing of their duties fared still best. And this success as it was indeed, and accordingly he frequently acknowledged it for, an eminent act of the Divine Providence; so we may likewise take it as a signal testimony of the commanding worth the Doctor had, which extorted a reverence to his person from that worst of men, and rendered him a Sanctuary, perhaps the only one this Architect of Mischief stood in awe of, and even his Sacrilege preserved inviolate. Nor did this danger being over, as with others in all likelihood it would have done, persuade to caution for the future; but with the wont diligence that formerly he used, he immediately proceeded, and cheerfully went on in the pursuit of his heroic Charity. Amidst these diversions grew up the Labours of this Hero, the issues of his Brain, being not only midwived into the world like natural births with torment and disease, but wrote, like Caesar's Commentaries, in Dangers and in War. And now besides the Replies which the importunities of Master Owen, Master Jeanes, and Master Tombs drew from him, W. S. continuing his loud clamours and impudent triumph at his own folly, the good Doctor suffered himself to be engaged on that long Answer, which proved the last of that kind he made, excepting that single sheet put out a few months before his death, as a specimen to what desperate shifts the patrons of the Roman Cause were driven: for though some of his Friends advised him to remit that Divinity Buffoon to be answered in his own way by a slighter pen; he by no means would admit of the proposal, resolving it unfit that another should do in his behalf what was indecent for himself to do; and though there was no respect to be had of W. S. yet was the Sacred Cause to be managed with reverence and awful regard. While this was in hand the second Review of the Annotations came to light, as also the Exposition on the Book of Psalms, and soon after the pacific discourse of God's Grace and Decrees, ventilated between him and his dear Friend the reverend and most learned Dr Sanderson, now Lord Bishop of Lincoln, occasioned by some Letters which had passed on that Subject between the said Doctor and the Reverend Dr Pierce. To this immediately succeeded the Latin Tract of Confirmation, in answer to the Exceptions of Mr Daillee, which was then prepared for the Press, though detained much longer upon prudential or rather charitative considerations, a respect to which was strictly had in all the Doctor's Writings; it being his care not only to publish sober and convincing, but withal seasonable, useful Truths. He was likewise enterprising a farther Commentary on the Old Testament, and begun on the Book of Proverbs, and finished a third part of it: But the Completion of this and all other the great intendments of the equally Learned, Pious, and indefatigable Author, received here a full period; it pleasing the Divine Providence to take to himself this high Example of all moral and Christian Excellencies, in a season when the Church and Nation would least have been deprived of his Aids towards the cementing of those breaches which then began to offer at a closure. 'Tis easily to be presumed the Reader will not be disobliged, if we a while divert from this remaining sadder part of the undertaken Narrative, and entertain him with a Survey of the Personal accomplishments of the Excellent Doctor. The particulars whereof would not readily have fallen into the thread of History, or at least had been disjointed there, and under disadvantage; but will be made to stand in a much fairer light, when represented to the view by way of Character and Picture. And therefore to this prospect we cheerfully invite all eyes in whose esteem Virtue itself is lovely. Section the Second. THE frame of his Body was such as suited with the noble use to which it was designed, the entertaining a most pure and active Soul, but equally to the advantages of Strength and Comeliness. His Stature was of just height and all proportionate dimensions, avoiding the extremes of gross and meager, advantaged by a graceful Carriage, at once most grave, and yet as much obliging. His Face carried dignity and attractives in it, scarce ever clouded with a frown, or so much as darkened by reservedness. His Eye was quick and sprightful, his Complexion clear and florid, so that (especially in his youth) he had the esteem of a very beauteous person; which was lessened only by the colour of his Hair: though if the sentence of other Ages and Climates be of value, that reasonably might be vouched as an accession to it. To this outward Structure was joined that strength of Constitution, patient of severest toil and hardship; insomuch that for the most part of his life, in the fiercest extremity of cold, he took no other advantage of a fire, then at the greatest distance that he could to look upon it. As to Diseases (till immoderate Study had wrought a change) he was in a manner only liable to Fevers, which too a constant temperance did in a great measure prevent, and still assisted to relieve and cure. Next to his frame of Body, if we survey his inward Faculties, we shall find them just unto the promises of his outward shape. His Sight was quick to an unusual degree; insomuch that if by chance he saw a knot of men, a flock of sheep or herd of cattle, being engaged in discourse, and not at all thinking of it, he would involuntarily cast up their number, which others after long delays could hardly reckon. His Ear was accurate and tuned to his harmonious Soul, so that having never learned to sing by book or study, he would exactly perform his part of many things to a Harpsicon or Theorbo; and frequently did so in his more vigorous years after the toil and labour of the day, and before the remaining studies of the night. His Elocution was free and graceful, prepared at once to charm and to command his audience: and when with Preaching at his Country charge he had in some degree lost the due manage of his voice, His late Sacred Majesty, by taking notice of the change, became his Master of Music, and reduced him to his ancient decent modulation; a kindness which the Doctor very gratefully acknowledged to his dying day, and reported not only as an instance of the meek and tender condescensions of that gracious Prince, but improved to persuade others by so great an Example to that most friendly office of telling persons of their Faults, without which very commonly (as here it happened) men must be so far from amending their Errors, that'tis morally impossible they should ever know them. As to his more inferior Faculties, we must allow the first place to his Invention, his richest, altogether unexhausted treasure, whose flow were with that full torrent, that for several years, after his choice of Subject, which generally he had in prospect beforehand, a little meditation on the Saturday night made up his Sermon: but in the last twelve of his life, finding the recollection of his thoughts disturb his sleep, he remitted the particular care of the Composition and Method of his future Discourse to the Sunday morning, wherein an hours consideration fitted him to the office of the day. With the like swiftness he dispatched his Writings, usually composing faster than his Amanuensis, though a very dextrous person, could transcribe after him. His Considerations of present necessity concerning Episcopacy were drawn up after ten of clock at night in a friend's Chamber, who professes, that sitting by all the while, he remembers not that he took off Pen from Paper till he had done; and the very next morning, it being fully approved by the Bishop of Salisbury, he sent it to the Press: to which work he could have no premeditation or second thoughts, he being that very night after Supper employed by the beforementioned Lord Bishop of Salisbury, now of Winchester, on that task. So likewise he began his Tract of Scandal at eleven at night, and finished it before he went to bed. Nor was this a peculiar or extraordinary thing with him, but most customary; five sheets having amidst his other diversions been sundry times his one day's work; adding to it so much of the night as he frequently borrowed from sleep and supper. And indeed such were his diversions, so many and so importunate, that notwithstanding this incredible ease of writing, 'tis hardly imaginable how he could compass the tith of what he did. For he that shall consider his laborious way, immersed in almost infinite quotations, to which the turning over books and consulting several editions was absolutely needful; his obligation to read not only Classic Authors, but the more recent abortions of the Press, wherein he proved frequently concerned; his perusal of the writings of his Friends and Strangers intended to be public; his review of his own Works, and correcting them with his own hand sheet by sheet as they came forth, which he did to all his later Tracts; his reception of Visits, whether of civility, or for resolution of Conscience, or information in points of difficulty, which were numerous, and great devourers of his time; his agency for men of quality, providing them Schoolmasters for their Children, and Chaplains in their houses, in which affair he had set up a kind of Office of address; his general correspondencies by Letter, whereof some cost him 10, others 20, 30, 40, nay 60 sheets of paper, and ever took up two days of the Week entirely to themselves; the time exhausted by his sicknesses, which in the later years of his life gave him but short and seldom truce, and always made it necessary for him not to stir from his chair, or so much as read a letter for two hours after every meal, failance wherein being certainly revenged by a fit of the Gout; his not only constant preaching and instructing the Family where he was, and his visiting the sick both there and in the Neighbourhood, but amidst all, his sure returns of Prayer, so frequent and so constant as certainly to challenge to themselves a great portion of the day: he, I say, that shall compute and sum up this, the particulars whereof are nakedly set down without any straining of the truth or flourish of expression, must be to seek what point of vacant time remained yet undisposed; I do not say to write books, but even to breath and rest a little in. After a serious reflection on the premises, and full debate thereon, the account given by that excellent person who had the happiness of being the nearest and most constant witness of the before-recited severals, seems, the best and chiefly satisfactory that possibly can be made; that he gained time for his writing Books by the time he spent in Prayer, whilst (a more than ordinary assistance attending his Devotions) his Closet proved his Library, and he studied most upon his knees. As to his Memory, 'twas serviceable, but not officious; faithful to things and business, but unwillingly retaining the contexture and punctualities of words: which defect he frequently lamented, it being harder with him to get one Sermon by heart then to pen twenty. His way of Speech and faculty of communicating notions was sufficiently happy, having only this best kind of defect, exuberance and surplusage of plenty, the tide and torrent of his matter being not easily confined by periods; whereby his style, though round and comprehensive, was encumbered sometimes by Parentheses, and became difficult to vulgar understandings: but by the use of writing, and his desire to accommodate himself to all capacities, he in his later years had mastered that defect, which was so slight, that notwithstanding it, he deserved from (the most accurate Judge and greatest Master of English Rhetoric which this age hath given) His late Sacred Majesty this Character and Testimony, That he was the most natural Orator he ever heard. His Judgement, as in itself the highest Faculty, so was it the most eminent among his natural endowments: for though the finding out the similitudes of different things, wherein the Fancy is conversant, is usually a bar to the discerning the disparities of similar appearances, which is the business of Discretion, and that store of notions which is laid up in Memory assists rather Confusion than Choice, upon which grounds the greatest Clerks are frequently not the wisest men; He had, to his sufficient Memory and incomparable Invention, a clear discerning Judgement; and that not only in Scholastical affairs and points of Learning, which the arguings, and besides them the designment of his writings manifest beyond dispute, but in the concerns of public nature both of Church and State, wherein his guess was usually as near to Prophecy as any man's; as also in the little mysteries of private manage, by which upon occasion he has unravelled the studied cheats of great Artificers in that liberal Science, wherein particularly he vindicated a person of Honour for whom he was entrusted, and assisted frequently his friends in their domestic intercurrent difficulties. As to acquired habits and abilities in Learning, his Writings having given the World sufficient account of them, there remains only to observe, that the range and compass of his knowledge filled the whole Circle of the Arts, and reached those severals which single do exact an entire man unto themselves, and full age. To be accurate in the Grammar and idioms of the Tongues, and then as a Rhetorician to make all their graces serve his Eloquence; to have traversed ancient, and yet be no stranger in modern Writers; to be studied in Philosophy, and familiarly versed in all the politer Classic Authors; to be learned in School-divinity, and a master in Church-antiquity, perfect and ready in the sense of Fathers, Councils, Ecclesiastical Historians and Liturgicks; to have devoured so much and yet digested it, is a rarity in nature and in diligence which has but few Examples. But after all we must take leave to say, and do it upon sober recollection, that the Doctor's Learning was the least thing in him; the Scholar was here less eminent than the Christian: His Speculative knowledge, that gave light to the most dark and difficult proposals, became eclipsed by the more dazzling lustre of his Practic. In the Catalogue of his Virtues, his Chastity and Temperance may claim the earliest place, as being the Sacrists to the rest, and in him were therefore only not the greatest of his Excellencies, because every thing else was so. And first, his chaste thoughts, words and carriage so disciplined his lower faculties, as not only restrained through all the heats of youth, made more than usually importunate by the full vigour of a high and sanguine constitution, (which his escape he gratefully referred unto the only mercy of Almighty God) but gave a detestation of all those verbal follies, that have not only the allowance of being harmless mirth, but the repute of wit and gaiety of humour: so that the scurrilous jest could sooner obtain his tears in penance for it, than the approbation of a smile; and all approaches to this sin he looked upon not only with an utter disallowance in his Will, but a kind of natural abhorrence and antipathy in his lower outward faculties. In his first remove to Pensehurst he was persuaded by his friends that the Matrimonial state was needful to the bearing off those household cares and other intercurrent troubles which his condition then brought with it; and on this ground he gave some ear to their advices: which he did then more readily, for that there was a person represented to him, of whose Virtue as well as other more-usually-desired accomplishments he had been long before well satisfied. But being hindered several times by little unexpected accidents, he finally laid down all his pretensions upon a ground of perfect self-denial; being informed that one of a fairer fortune and higher quality than his was, or else was like to be, and consequently one who in common account would prove the better match, had kindness for her. Having thus resolved, the charity of his Mother, who undertook the manage of his Family, became a seasonable assistant and expedient in this single state; till after several years her age making those cares too great a burden for her shoulders, he again was induced to resume his thoughts of Marriage. But the National disturbances (that afterwards broke out in War and Ruin) appearing then in ferment, he was again diverted by recollecting the Apostles advice, 1 Cor. 7. 26. enforced upon his thoughts by the reading of St Jerom's Epistle to Agereuchia, where after glorious Eulogies of Marriage, the Father concluded in an earnest dehortation from it, upon a representation of a like face of things, the Goths then breaking into Italy, as they before had done into the other near parts of the Roman Empire, and filling all with slaughter, cruelty and ruin. Upon which prospect the good Doctor casting a serious Eye, and with prophetic sorrows and misgivings fearing a parallel in this our Nation, the second time deposited his conjugal intendments, and thenceforth courted and espoused (what he preserved inviolate) unto his death the more eminent perfection of spotless Virgin Chastity. His Appetite was good, but the restraint of it was very eminent and extraordinary; for his Diet was of the plainest meats, and commonly not only his dishes, but the parts of them were such as most others would refuse. Sauces he scarce ever tasted of, but often expressed it his wonder how rational Creatures should eat for any thing but health, since he that did eat or drink that which might cause a fit of the Stone or Gout, though a year after, therein unmanned himself, and acted as a beast. So that his self-denials were quite contrary to the usual ones; for considering the time lost in Eating, and the vacancy succeeding it, his meals were the greatest pressure, and his fasting-day the most sensual part of his Week. In the time of his full and more vigorous health he seldom did eat or drink more than once in twenty four hours, and some Fruit towards night; and two days in every week, and in Lent and Ember-week three days, he eat but once in thirty six. Nor did he ever with so much regret submit unto any prescript, as when his Physicians, after his great Fever that he had in Oxford, required him to eat Suppers. Which severity of injunction he soon shook off, and returned to his beloved abstinence, until renewed infirmities brought him back unto the penance of more indulgence to himself. As he had the greatest indifference to what he eat, so had he the greatest observation too, especially when it came to be made point of diet and prescription; for in this case he was most exact, never tasting of any prohibited meats, though some of them had before the advantage of being customary towards their seeming necessary. And herein his palate was so tractable and subdued to the dictates of an higher choice, that he really thought no meat pleasant, but in proportion to its wholesomeness: even his beloved Apples he would oft say he would totally abandon, assoon as they should appear to be no more then barely innocent, and not of use. And if by chance or inadvertency he had at any time tasted of an interdicted dish, as soon as he perceived it, he discovered a dislike both with himself and what he had been surprised with. The Carving at the Table he always made his province, which he said he did as a diversion to keep him from eating overmuch: but certainly that practice had another more immediate cause, a natural distributiveness of humour, and a desire to be employed in the relief of every kind of want of every person. The report, and much more the sight, of a luxurious feeder would turn his Stomach, so that he was in more danger to be sick with other's Surfeits then his own; Charity seeming a part of his complexion, while he performed a natural spontaneous penance for his neighbour's Vice, as well as a deliberate one in sorrowing for it. His temperance in Sleep resembled that of his meats, Midnight being the usual time of his going to rest, and four or five, and very rarely six, the hour of his rising. There was scarce any thing he resented so much in his infirmities and multiplied diseases as their having abridged him of his night-studies, professing thereby he lost not only his greatest pleasure, but highest advantage in reference to business. And in his later time of weakness, when to take benefit of a gentle breathing sweat, which usually came in the morning, he had been engaged by his Physician to continue in bed till it was over; and upon complaint of costiveness he was on the other side directed to rise somewhat early in the morning; this later injunction he looked upon as a mere rescue and deliverance, often mentioning it with thanks, as if it had been an eminent favour done him. His disposal of himself in the other parts of time was to perpetual industry and diligence: he not only avoided, but bore a perfect hate, and seemed to have a forcible antipathy to Idleness, and scarcely recommended any thing in his advices with that concern and vigour, as to be furnished always with somewhat to do. This he proposed as the best expedient both for innocence and pleasure; assuring that no burden is more heavy or temptation more dangerous, then to have time lie on ones hand; the idle man's brain being not only (as he worded it) the Devil's shop, but his kingdom too, a model of and an appendage unto hell, a place given up to torment and to mischief. Besides those portions of time which the necessities of nature and of civil life extorted from him, there was not a minute of the day which he left vacant. When he walked abroad, which he did not so much to recreate himself, as to obey the prescripts of his Physician, he never failed to take a book with him, and read all the while: And in his Chamber also he had one lay constantly open, out of which his Servant read to him while he was dressing and undressing; by which one piece of husbandry in short space he dispatched several considerable Volumes. His way was still to cast into paper all his Observations, and direct them to his present purposes; wherein he had an incredible dexterity, scarce ever reading any thing which he did not make subservient in one kind or other. He was used to say, he could not abide to talk with himself, and therefore was so diligently provided of that which he called better company. In his Sicknesses, if they were not so violent to make the recollection of thoughts impossible, he never intermitted study, but rather reinforced it then as the most appropriate revulsive and diversion of pain. The Gout by its most frequent and importunate returns exceeded his other maladies; in which although the first most furious assaults were sure to beat him from his study, and for a time confine him to his bed, yet as soon as he had recovered his chair, he resumed his pen too, and plied it as hard as though he had ailed nothing. Next to downright Idleness he disliked slow and dilatory undertake, thinking it a great folly to spend that time in gazing upon business which should have served for the doing of it. In his own practice he never considered longer than till he could discern whether the thing proposed was fit or not: when that was seen, he immediately set to work. When he had perfected one business, he could not endure to have his thoughts lie fallow, but was presently consulting what next to set about. But when we reckon up and audit the expenses of the Doctor's Time, we cannot pass his constant tribute of it paid by him to Heaven in the offices of Prayer; which took up so liberal proportions of each day unto its self for the ten last years of his life, and probably the preceding. Besides occasional and supernumerary addresses, his certain perpetual returns exceeded David's seven times a day. As-soon as he was ready (which was usually early) he prayed in his Chamber with his Servant, in a peculiar form composed for that purpose. After this he retired to his own more secret Devotions in his Closet. Betwixt ten and eleven in the morning he had a solemn intercession in reference to the National Calamities: to this after a little distance succeeded the Morning Office of the Church, which he particularly desired to perform in his own person, and would by no means accept the ease of having it read by any other. In the afternoon he had another hour of private prayer, which on Sundays he enlarged, and so religiously observed, that if any necessary business or charity had diverted him at the usual time, he repaired his Soul at the cost of his Body, and, notwithstanding the injunctions of his Physicians, which in other cases he was careful to obey, spent the suppertime therein. About five of the clock the solemn private Prayers for the Nation and the Evening Service of the Church returned. At bedtime his private Prayers closed the Day: and after all even the Night was not without its Office, the LI Psalm being his designed midnight entertainment. In his Prayers, as his Attention was fixed and steady, so was it inflamed with passionate fervors, insomuch that very frequently his transport threw him prostrate on the Earth; his tears also would interrupt his words: the later happening not only upon the pungent exigencies of present or impending Judgements, but in the common Service of the Church; which, notwithstanding his concealments, being taken notice of by a person of good sufficiency, once a member of his House in Oxford, that became of late years a Proselyte to the new extemporary way, he, among his other Topics whereby he thought to disparage set Forms, used in discourse to urge the heartless coldness of them, and to adorn his triumph, would make it his solemn wonder how a person of so good parts as Dr Hammond was certainly master of, could find motive for his tears in the confession in the beginning of the Liturgy. So much does Passion and misguided Zeal transport the most sensible, that this man, otherwise sagacious enough, never considered how ill an instance he had made; which showed 'twas the coldness of the Votary, and not the Prayer, that was in fault, whenever fervour was deficient at the public Office of the Church. The Charity and extent of his Prayers was as exuberant as the Zeal and fervour: he thought it very unreasonable that our Intercessions should not be as universal as our Saviour's Redemption was; and would complain of that thrift and narrowness of mind to which we are so prone, confining our Care either to our selves and relatives, or at most to those little angles of the world that most immediately concerned us, and which on due account bear very low proportions to the whole. There was no emergent distress, however remote, but it enlarged his Litany; every years' harvest and new birth of mischiefs, which for several ones past constantly fell on the Orthodox and Loyal party in the Nation, removed itself from the sanguinary Edicts of the Tyrant, to be transcribed and expiated by his pathetical office of Devotion. In which Calendar and Rubric the thirtieth of January was sure to have a very solemn place, and a peculiar Service prepared for it. Nor did he only take to heart general National concernments, but even the more private Exigencies of the sick and weak had a staple interest in his Prayers. Among all which none had so liberal a part as they that merited them least, yet wanted them most; his and (what was usually the same thing) the Churches and God's Enemies. He never thought he had assured his forgiveness of injuries, unless he returned good for them; and though other opportunities of this best kind of retaliation might fail him, that of his intercessions never did. Three persons there were who above all men by unworthy malice and impotent virulence had highly disobliged him; but he in recompense of their guilt had a peculiar daily Prayer purposely in their behalf: and though in the openness of his Conversation with his most intimate acquaintance he confessed thus much, yet he never named the persons, though probably that was the only thing which he concealed; it being his method to withhold nothing, especially of confidence or privacy, from one he owned as Friend. And having mentioned the name of Friend, however incidentally, we must not leave it without homage; Friendship being the next sacred thing unto Religion in the apprehensions of our Excellent Doctor, a Virtue of which he was a passionate lover, and with which he ever seemed to have contracted Friendship. The union of Minds thereby produced he judged the utmost point of humane Happiness, the very best production that Nature has in store, or grows from earth. So that with compassion he reflected on their ignorance who were strangers to it, saying that such must needs lead a pitiful insipid herb-John-like life. Upon this ground he used with all industrious art to recommend and propagate Friendship unto others; and where he saw several persons that he judged capable of being made acquainted to mutual advantage, he would contrive that league; and where himself had kindness unto any so allied, he would still enjoin them to be kinder to each other then to him; besides, he still laboured to make all his friends endeared to each of them; resolving it to be an Error bottomed on the common narrowness of Soul which represented Amity like sensual love, to admit no rivals, confined unto two persons. When he ever happened to see or be in company with such as had an intimate and hearty kindness for each other, he would be much transported in the contemplation of it, and where it was seasonable, would openly acknowledge that his satisfaction. In the list and number of his Friends there chanced to be three persons, who having in their youth contracted a strict intimacy, had undertaken the same profession; and accordingly had the same common studies and designments, and with these the opportunity through the late Troubles to live in view of each other: whom for that reason he was used with an obliging envy to pronounce the most happy men the Nation had. Accordingly he professed that for his particular he had no such way of enjoying any thing as by reflection from the person whom he loved: so that his friend's being happy was the readiest way to make him so. Therefore when one eminently near to him in that relation was careless of health, his most pressing argument was his complaint of unkindness to him. And this way of measuring selicities was so natural to him, that it would occur even in the most trivial instances: when there has been any thing at the Table peculiarly wholesome in relation to his infirmities, if his Friend, who was in a like weak condition, forbore to eat of it in civility to him, he would with vehemence of grief resent it as his singular unhappiness after so many professions not to be believed, that he had a thousand times rather that his friend should have that which was conducible to health, then to have it himself; and then assumed, that if this were believed, it were impossible any one should attempt to express kindness by robbing him of his greatest pleasure. The principal thing he contracted for in Friendship was a free use of mutual Admonition; which he confined not to the groffer guilts which enemies and common fame were likely to observe and mind men of, but extended it unto prudential failings, indecencies, and even suspicious and barely doubtful actions: nay beyond that, unto those virtuous ones which might have been improved and rendered better. He was used to say, it was a poor design of Friendship to keep the person he admitted to his breast only from being scandalous, as if the Physician should endeavour only to secure his patient from the Plague. And what he thus articled for, he punctually himself performed, and exacted back again to be returned unto himself. And if for any while he observed that no remembrance had been offered to him, he grew afraid and almost jealous of the omission, suspecting that the Courtier had supplanted the Friend, and therefore earnestly enforced the obligation of being faithful in this point: and when with much ado somewhat of advertisement was picked up, he received it always as huge kindness; and though the whole ground of it happened to be mistake, yet he still returned most affectionate thanks. His good will when placed on any was so fixed and rooted, that even supervening Vice, to which he had the greatest detestation imaginable, could not easily remove it, the abhorrency of their Guilts leaving not only a charity but tenderness to their Persons; and, as he has professed, his concernment rather increased then lessened by this means, compassion being in that instance added unto love. There were but two things which (he would say) were apt to give check to his affections, Pride and Falseness; where he saw these predominant, he thought he could never be a friend to any purpose, because he could never hope to do any good; yet even there he would intend his Prayers, so much the more by how much the less he could do besides. But where he saw a malleable honest temper, a Jacob's plain simplicity, nothing could there discourage him; and however inadvertency or passion, or haply some worse ingredient, might frustrate his design, he would attend the mollia tempora, as he called them, those gentle and more treatable opportunities which might at last be offered. He so much abhorred artifice and cunning, that he had prejudice to all concealments and pretensions. He used to say he hated a Non-causa, and he had a strange sagacity in discovering it. When any with much circumlocution and contrivance had endeavoured to shadow their main drift and purpose, he would immediately look through all those mists, and where 'twas in any degree seasonable, would make it appear he did so: His charity of fraternal correption having only this caution or restraint, the hearer's interest, of which he judged, that when advice did not do good, 'twas hardly separable from doing harm; and on this ground sometimes he did desist. But wheresoever he gave an admonition, he prefaced it always with such demonstrations of tenderness and good will as could not fail to convince of the affectionate kindness with which 'twas sent, though it could not of the convenience or necessity to embrace it. And this he gave as a general rule, and enforced by his Example, never to reprove in anger, or the least appearance of it. If the passion were real, that then was evidently a fault, and the guilty person most unfit to be a judge: if it were resemblance only, yet even that would be so like to guilt, as probably to divert the offender from the consideration of his failance to fasten on his Monitor, and make him think he was chid not because he was in fault, but because the other was angry. Indeed the person who would not be some way moved with his advices must be strangely insensate and ill-natured. Though his Exhortations had as much evidence and weight as words could give them, he had over and above a great advantage in his manner of speaking: His little phrase, Don't be simple, had more power to charm a passion then long harangues from others; and very many who loved not Piety in itself, nor to be troubled with the news of it, would be well pleased to be invited and advised by him, and venerated the same matter in his language which they have derided in another's. He would say, he delighted to be loved, not reverenced; thinking that where there was much of the latter, there could not be enough of the former; somewhat of restraint and distance attending on the one, which was not well consistent with the perfect freedom requisite to the other. But as he was thus no friend to ceremonious respect, he was an open enemy to Flattery, especially from a Friend, from whom he started to meet the slightest appearance of that servile kindness. Having upon occasion communicated a purpose against which there happened to lie some objections, they being by a friend of his represented to him, he immediately was convinced, and assumed other Counsels. But in process of discourse it happened something fell in that brought to mind a passage of a late Sermon of the Doctor's, which that person having been affected with, innocently mentioned such apprehensions of it, and so passed on to talk of other matters. The next day the Doctor having recollected that probably the approbation given to the passage of the Sermon might be an after-design to allay the plaindealing which preceded it, expostulated his surmise, protesting that nothing in the world could more avert his love and deeply disoblige him, than such unfaithfulness. But being assured that there was no such art or contrivance meant, he gladly found and readily yielded himself to have been mistaken. In other cases he was no way inclinable to entertain doubts of his friend's kindness: but if any irregularity chanced to intervene, and cause misapprehensions, he gave them not leave to root and fasten by concealment, but immediately produced his ground of jealousy; and exacted the like measure back again, if his own proceedings fell at any time under a doubtful or unkind appearance. This he thought a justice essential to Friendship, without which it could not possibly subsist: For we think not fit to condemn the most notorious Malefactor before he hath had licence to propose his plea; and sure 'tis more strangely barbarous to treat a Friend, or rather Friendship itself, with less regard. To the performances of friendship he hated all mercenary returns, whereof he was so jealous, as hardly to leave place for gratitude. Love, he said, was built upon the union and similitude of minds, and not the bribery of gifts and benefits. So generous was he herein, that he has oft professed, he admitted retributions of good turns, yet not so much on any score, as that his Friend might have the pleasure of being kind. There was a person of quality, a great and long sufferer in the late times of trial, to whom the Doctor had frequently sent supplies, and continued so to do, till there happened at last a change in the condition of the correspondent, such a one as, if it did not supersede the need of farther assistance, yet gave promise of an approaching affluence; whereupon the Doctor feared the adding a new obligation in this conjuncture of affairs might seem a piece of design rather than kindness or charity: and though this suggestion was not of force to divert his purpose, it proved sufficient to suspend it, till by inquiry he found his designed present would be a relief, and then he thought it an impertinence to consider what it could be called besides. But doing good to relatives or being kind unto acquaintance were low expressions of this Virtue we exhibit. Misery and Want, where-ere he met with them, sufficiently endeared the Object. His Alms was as exuberant as his Love; and in Calamities to the Exigence he never was a stranger, whatever he might be to the man that suffered. And here the first preparative was to leave himself no motive to resist or slight the opportunities of giving; which he compassed by being a Steward to himself as well as unto God, and parting still with the propriety of a set portion of his Estate, that when at any time he relieved the wants of any, he might become no whit the poorer by his gift, have only the content of giving, and the ease of being rid of keeping another's money. The rate and sum of what he thus devoted was the tenth of all his income; wherein he was so strictly punctual, that commonly the first thing he did was to compute and separate the poor man's share. To this he added every week five shillings, which had been his lowest proportion in the heat of the War in Oxford, when he lived upon his Pensehurst stock, and had no visible means or almost possibility of supply. Over and above this he completed the devotions of his weekly Fast by joining Alms thereto, and adding twenty shillings to the poor man's heap. These were his debts to Charity, the established fixed revenue of the indigent; in the dispensation of which he was so religiously careful, that if at any time he happened to be in doubt whether he had set apart his charitable proportions, he always past sentence against himself, resolving it much better to run the hazard of having paid the same debt twice, then to incur the possibility of not having done it once. But beyond these he had his freewill offerings, and those proportioned more by the occasion of giving, than the surplusage he had to give. His poor man's bag had so many mouths, and those so often opened, that it frequently became quite empty: but it's being so never diverted him from relieving any that appeared in need; for in such seasons he chose to give in more liberal proportions then at others. In the time of the War at Oxford, to pass by other lesser Reliefs, and many great ones, which his industrious concealment has preserved from all notice of the most diligent enquiry, though he were then at a very low ebb, he furnished an indigent friend with sixty pound, which never was repaid him: as also upon another score he parted with twenty pound, and another considerable sum besides that: and to one in distress about the same time and on the same occasion an hundred pound. In stead of hiding his face from the poor, 'twas his practice still to seek for theirs. Those persons whom he trusted with (his greatest secret and greatest business) his Charity, seldom had recourse to him, but he would make enquiry for new Pensioners: and though he had in several parts of the Nation those whom he employed to find out indigent persons, and dispose his largess to them, and though the Tyranny that then prevailed made every day store of such; his covetous bounty still grasped for more. Besides his ordinary provision for the neighbouring poor, and those that came to look him out in his retirement, (which were not few; for that the Liberal man dwells always in the Road) his Catalogue had an especial place for sequestered Divines, their Wives and Orphans, for young Students in the Universities, and also those Divines that were abroad in Banishment: Where over and above his frequent occasional reliefs to the last of these, the exiled Clergy, besides what he procured from others, he sent constantly over year by year a very considerable Sum, such a one as men of far greater revenues do not use upon any occasion to put into the Corban, and give away, much less as a troublesome excrescence every year prune off, and cast from their Estates. Now if we inquire into the stock and fountain that was to feed all these disbursements, 'twas at his flight from Pensehurst barely three hundred pounds; which, at the sale of a Lease left him for his Portion from his Father, and the assistance of his Prebend in Christ-church, after all his lavish Charities during those years, was near upon a thousand. The taking of Use though he judged lawful, yet never approved by practice, but lent still gratis both to friends and strangers. The only other way he had of income was the buying of Leases for years, and the printing of his Books; from the later of which when there is defaulk'd the many whole Editions he had nothing for, the charge he was at in the sending of his Copies before he printed them unto his Friends for their animadversions and advices, his sending them sheet by sheet when printed, and surveying the revises, and the great numbers he gave away to his acquaintance, it will appear that the remainder was but a slight matter. As for private contributions or assistance of that kind, he had never any: for though there were many who would gladly have made those oblations, yet he industriously prevented them by public avowing that he needed not. In which refusal he was so peremptory, that when being in Oxford made Prisoner at the Sign of the Bear, thence to be sent immediately to Wallingford Castle, a Gentleman, perfectly a stranger to him, and coming by chance to the Inn, and hearing of his condition, having fifty pieces by him, would needs have presented them to him; though the Doctor had before him the barbarous usage of his brethren, clapped on Shipboard under hatches, the like to which he might probably enough meet with; and though this extraordinary occurrence seemed to carry with it somewhat of providential designment; yet he wholly refused the offer, as afterwards he did a far greater Sum from a person of honour that courted him with it. Only one twenty pound he was surprised by, and thought fit to accept, which after some dispute with himself he did upon these two grounds: first, that he might not gratify the pride from whence he was used to say men's reluctancies to receive benefits proceeded; and secondly, that he might not give the Gentleman the discomfiture of seeing he had made an unseasonable Offer. But with all this disproportioned Expense unto Revenue (a thing which after a very deliberate and strict enquiry remains riddle still, and an event next door to miracle) the Doctor daily improved in his Estate, and grew in spite of all his Liberality rich, being worth at the time of his death about 1500 l. which yet we are not to marvel should be strange to us, since it was so to the Doctor himself, who often professed to wonder at it, and thereupon would apply this Axiom, that Half is more than the whole, his mean Revenue by being scattered in the worst of times growing upon him, when others that had great ones, by gripping made them less, and grew stark beggars. As the Doctor was thus charitable, so was he gentile and liberal; his openness of hand in Secular occasions was proportionable to that in Sacred. When any one had sent him a slight present of Apples or the like, his reward would usually much exceed the value; and he would be so well pleased to have such an occasion of giving to a servant, saying, Alas, poor Soul, I warrant he is glad of this little matter, that this seemed a part of the sender's Courtesy. Thus if there happened any other occasion of giving, or of gratifying or advancing public works, (for instance the great Bible, upon which he was out 50 l. and re-imburst himself only by selling two Copies) he would be sure to do it at a free and highly-ingenuous rate. So that he was sparing only to himself, and that upon no other principle, but thereby to be liberal to those he loved better than himself, the necessitous and poor. A pregnant instance whereof may be, that the Doctor upon occasion calculating his Expenses on himself, found them to be not above five pound in the year. Besides this, he had a further impediment to Riches, an easiness which alone has wasted other men's estates; he commonly making those he dealt with their own arbitrators, and if they seriously professed they could go no nigher, he descended to their terms, saying commonly, that this trash was not worth much ado. And beyond this he was so careless after bargains, that he never received script of paper of any to whom he lent, nor Bond of any for performance of Covenants, till very lately from two persons, when he found it necessary to use that method with them. He was used to say, that if he thought men Knaves, he would not deal with them; and if indeed they were so, it was not all his Circumspection that could prevent a Cheat: On the other side, if they were honest, there needed no such caution. And possibly if we consider the whole matter, there was not such imprudence in the manage as at first appears: for Bonds would have signified little to him, who in the best times would scarce have put them in suit; but would certainly have starved before he would have made an application to those Judicatories which of late prevailed, and usurped the protection as well as the possession of men's rights, and were injurious not only in their Oppressions but Reliefs. In those black days, being charged with the debt of about 50 or 60. l. formerly by him paid, being offered a Release if he would take his Oath of Payment, he thought the condition too unequal, and was resolved to double his payment rather than perform it: but a farther enquiry having cleared the Account, he incurred not that penalty. To a Friend of his who by the falseness of a correspondent whom he trusted was reduced to some extremity, and enquired what course he took to scape such usage, the Doctor wrote as follows; To your doubt concerning myself, I thank God I am able to answer you, that I never suffered in my life for want of hand or seal, but think I have fared much better than they that have always been careful to secure themselves by these cautions. I remember I was wont to reproach an honest fellow-Prebend of mine, that whensoever a Siege was near, always sent away what he most valued to some other Garrison or Friend, and seldom ever met with any again, the solicitude was still their ruin: Whereas I venturing myself and my Cabinet in the same bottom, never lost any thing of this kind. And the like I have practised in this other Instance. Whom I trusted to be my friend, all I had was in his power, and by God's blessing I was never deceived in my trust. And here amidst all these unlikelihoods and seeming impossibilities Riches thrust themselves upon him, and would take no refusal: it pleasing God, since he had exemplified the advices of his Practical Catechism to the duties of Alms and charitable distributions, in him also to make good and signally exemplify the assurance he there and elsewhere made in the behalf of Almighty God upon such performance, the giving affluence of temporal wealth. Nor was he the single instance of this truth; as he had Proselytes to the speculative verity, he had Partisans also of the effect and real issue of it. About four years since a person of good Estate, and without charge of Children, coming to visit the Doctor, among other discourse happened to speak of the late Dean of Worcester, Dr Potter (whose memory, for his remarkable Charity and all other excellencies befitting his Profession and Dignity in the Church, is precious.) This Gentleman there related, that formerly enquiring of the Dean how it was possible for one that had so great a charge of Children, was so hospitable in his Entertainment and profuse in Liberality, not only to subsist, but to grow rich; he answered, that several years before he happened to be present at a Sermon at St Paul's Cross, where the Preacher recommending the Duty of Alms and plentiful giving, assured his Auditory that that was the certainest way to compass riches. He moved therewith, thenceforward resolved diligently to follow the counsel and expect the issue; which was such as now created so much wonder. It fortuned that at that time when this was telling, the Doctor's 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 were newly come out, and therewith this Sermon of the Poor man's tithing. He therefore willing to improve the opportunity, confessed that he himself was that Preacher which Doctor Potter referred to, and that there was the very Sermon: which immediately giving to this Visitant, he desired Almighty God it might have the like effect on him; and so after a short civility dismissed him. As to the way and very manner of his Charity, even that was a part of his donation and largess. One great care of his was to dispose of his reliefs so as to be most seasonable; to which purpose he had his spies and agents still employed to give him punctual notice of the occurrents in their several stations. His next endeavour was to dispense them so as to be most endearing. To persons that had been of quality he consulted to relieve their modesty as well as needs, taking order they should rather find then receive Alms; and knowing well they were provided for, should not yet be able to guests by what means they were so. To those who were assisted immediately from his hand, he over and above bestowed the charities of his familiar and hearty kindness: in the expressiveness of which he was not only assisted by his habitual humility, or positive opinion, upon which he was used to say that 'twas a most unreasonable and unchristian thing to despise any one for his poverty; but much more by the pleasure and transport which the very act of giving transfused into him: which whosoever noted, stood in need of no other proof of the truth of his usual affirmation, that 'Twas one of the greatest sensualities in the World to give. Upon which consideration he often took occasion to magnify the exceeding indulgence of God, that had annexed future rewards to that which was so amply its own recompense. Another circumstance in the Doctor's Liberality not to be passed over was his choice of what he gave; his care that it should not be of things vile and refuse, but of the very best he had. It happened that a Servant in the family being troubled with the Gout, the Doctor gave order that he should have some of the plaster which he used in the like extremity: but the store of that being almost spent, the person entrusted in this office gave of another sort, which was of somewhat less reputation. Which practice the Doctor within a while coming to know, was extremely troubled at it, and complained of that unseasonable kindness unto him, which disregarded the pressing interests and wants of another person, and thereby gave him a disquiet parallel to that which a fit of the Gout would have done. But besides this of giving, the Alms of lending had an eminent place in the practice as well as judgement of the Doctor. When he saw a man honest and industrious, he would trust him with a Sum, and let him pay it again at such times and in such proportions as he found himself able: withal when he did so, he would add his Counsel too, examine the persons condition, and contrive with him how the present Sum might be most advantageously disposed; still closing the discourse with Prayer for God's blessing, and after that dismissing him with infinite affability and kindness. In which performance as he was exuberant to all, so most especially to such as were of an inferior degree; giving this for a Rule to those of his friends that were of estate and quality, to treat their poor Neighbours with such a cheerfulness, that they may be glad to have met with them. And as upon the grounds of his most gentile and obliging humanity he never suffered any body to wait that came to speak with him, though upon a mere visit, but broke off his beloved studies, upon which his intention was so great, that he extremely grudged to be interrupted by any bodily concernment of his own, and so would often intermit his prescribed walks and Suppers in pursuance of it: so with a more exceeding alacrity he came down when it was told him that a poor body would speak with him. Such of all others he loved not to delay; and so much he desired that others should do the same, that when the Lady of the House, diverted either by the attractives of his discourse, or some other occasion, delayed the clients of her Charity in Alms, or that other most commendable one in Surgery, he in his friendly way would chide her out of the room. As Poverty thus recommended to the Doctor's care and kindness, in an especial manner it did so when Piety was added to it: upon which score a mean person in the Neighbourhood, one Houseman, a Weaver by trade, but by weakness disabled much to follow that or any other employment, was extremely his favourite. Him he used with a most affectionate freedom, gave him several of his Books, and examined his progress in them; invited him, nay importuned him, still to come to him for whatever he needed, and at his death left him ten pounds as a Legacy. A little before which fatal time, He and the Lady P. being walking, Houseman happened to come by, to whom after the Doctor had talked a while in his usual friendly manner, he let him pass; yet soon after called him with these words, Houseman, if it should please God that I should be taken from this place, let me make a bargain between my Lady and you, that you be sure to come to her with the same freedom you would to me for any thing you want: and so with a most tender kindness gave his benediction. Then turning to the Lady, said, Will you not think it strange I should be more affected for parting from Houseman then from you? His treating the poor man when he came to visit him in his Sickness was parallel hereto in all respects. Such another Acquaintance he had at Pensehurst, one Sexton, whom he likewise remembered in his Will, and to whom he was used to send his more practical Books, and to write extreme kind Letters, particularly enquiring of the condition of himself and Children: and when he heard he had a boy fit to put out to School, allowed him a pension to that purpose: and also with great contentment received from him his hearty, though scarce legible, returns. Nor will this treatment from the Doctor seem any thing strange to them that shall consider how low a rate he put upon those usual distinctives, Birth or Riches; and withal how high a value on the Souls of men: for them he had so unmanageable a passion, that it often broke out into words of this effect, which had with them still in the delivery an extraordinary vehemence, O what a glorious thing, how rich a prize for the expense of a man's whole life were it to be the instrument of rescuing any one Soul? Accordingly in the pursuit of this design he not only wasted himself in perpetual toil of study, but most diligently attended the Offices of his Calling, reading daily the Prayers of the Church, Preaching constantly every Sunday, and that many times when he was in so ill a condition of health, that all besides himself thought it impossible, at least very unfit, for him to do it. His Subjects were such as had greatest influence on Practice, which he pressed with most affectionate tenderness, making tears part of his Oratory. And if he observed his documents to have failed of the desired effect, it was matter of great sadness to him; where in stead of accusing the parties concerned, he charged himself that his Performances were incompetent to the designed End, and would solicitously inquire what he might do to speak more plainly or more movingly; whether his extemporary wording might not be a defect, and the like. Besides this, he liberally dispensed all other spiritual aids: from the time that the Children of the Family became capable of it till his death, he made it a part of his daily business to instruct them, allotting the interval betwixt Prayers and Dinner to that work, observing diligently the little deviations of their manners, and applying remedies unto them. In like sort, that he might ensnare the Servants also to their benefit, on Sundays in the afternoon he catechised the Children in his Chamber, giving liberty, nay invitation, to as many as would to come and hear, hoping they haply might admit the truths obliquely levelled, which bashfulness persuaded not to inquire for, lest they thereby should own the fault of form inadvertence. Besides he publicly declared himself ready and desirous to assist any person single, and to that purpose having particularly invited such to come at their leisurable hours, when any did so, he used all arts of encouragement and obliging condescension; insomuch that having once got the Scullion in his Chamber upon that Errand, he would not give him the uneasiness of standing, but made him sit down by his side: though in other cases amidst his infinite Humility, he knew well how to assert the dignity of his place and Function from the approaches of Contempt. Upon this ground of ardent love to Souls, a very disconsolate and almost desponding person happening some years since to come to him, there to unload the burden of his mind, he kept him privately in his Chamber for several days with a paternal kindness, answering every scruple which that unhappy temper of Mind too readily suggested, and with unwearied patience attending for those little Arguments which in him were much more easily silenced then satisfied. This practice continued, till he at last discovered his impressions had in good proportion advanced to the desired effect, which proceeded carefully in this Method, that Duty still preceded Promise, and strict Endeavour only founded Comfort. On the same motive of this highest Charity, when some years since a young man, (who by the encouragement of an Uncle, formerly the Head of an House in Oxford, had been bred up to Learning, but by his Ejectment at the Visitation was diverted from that course to a countrey-life, and being so, to engage him therein was also married and had children;) amidst his toilsome avocations continued to employ his vacant hours in study, and happening on some of the Doctor's writings, was so affected with them, as to leave his Wife and Family and Employment, to seek out the Doctor himself, whom being accordingly addressed unto, the Excellent Doctor met this unknown Romantic undertaker with his accustomed kindness, and most readily received this Votary and Proselyte to Learning into his care and pupillage for several years, affording him all kind of assistance both in studies and temporal support, till he at last arrived at good proficiency in knowledge, and is at present a very useful person in the Church. Nor could this zeal to the eternal interest of Souls be superseded by any sight of danger however imminent. The last year one in the neighbourhood mortally sick of the small Pox desiring the Doctor to come to him, as soon as he heard of it, though the disease did then prove more then usually fatal, and the Doctor's age and complexion threatened it particularly so to him, and though one might discern in his countenance vigorous apprehensions of the danger, he presently suppressed his fears, staying only so long as to be satisfied whether the party was so sensible that a Visit might possibly be of use, and being informed thereof, cheerfully went; telling the person that happened to be present, whose dreads in his behalf were not so easily deposited, that he should be as much in God's hands in the sick man's chamber as in his own: and not contented with going once, appointed the next day to have returned again; which he had done, had not the Patient's death absolved him of his promise. So likewise when at another time a Gentleman of no very laudable life had in his Sickness desired to speak with the Doctor, which message through the negligence of the person employed was not delivered till he that sent it was in the last agonies of death; the Doctor was very much affected at it, passionately complaining of the brutishness of those that had so little sense of a Soul in that sad state: and pouring out his most fervent Prayers in his behalf, requested farther that by this example others, and in particular the Companions of that unhappy persons Vice, might learn how improper a season the time of Sickness, and how unfit a place the Deathbed is for that one great important Work of Penitence, which was intended by Almighty God the one commensurate work of the whole Life. But though to advance the Spiritual concerns of all that could in any kind become receptive of the good he meant them was his unlimited designment and endeavour, yet to nourish and advance the early Virtue of young persons was his more chosen study: When he saw such a one, he would contrive and seek out ways to insinuate and endear himself, lay hold of every opportunity to represent the beauty, pleasure and advantage of a pious life; and on the other side to express the toil, the danger and the mischief of brutal sensuality. Withal he would be still performing courtesies, thereby to oblige of very gratitude to him, obedience and duty unto God. Where to pass by the many instances that he gave of this his Charity, it will not be amiss to insist on one as a specimen of the rest, which was thus. It happened during the Doctor's abode in Oxford in the War, that a young man of excellent faculties and very promising hopes in that place, by his love to Music was engaged in the company of such who had that one good quality alone to recommend their other ill ones. The Doctor finding this, though otherwise a stranger to the person, gave him in exchange his own; and taking him as it were into his own bosom, directed him to books, and read them with him, particularly a great part of Homer, at a night dispatching usually a Book, and if it proved Holiday, than two; where his Comical expression was, when one Iliad was done, to say, Come, because 'tis Holiday, let us be jovial and take the other Iliad, reflecting on the mode of the former Debauches, whose word it was, 'Tis Holiday, let's take the other Pint. And as the Doctor laboured in the rescue of single persons, he had an Eye therein to multitudes; for wherever he had planted the seeds of Piety, he presently cast about to extend and propagate them thereby to others: engaging all his Converts not to be ashamed of being reputed innocent, or to be thought to have a kindness for Religion but own the seducing men to God with as much confidence at least as others use when they are Factors for the Devil: And in stead of lying on the guard and the defensive part,; he gave in charge to choose the other of the assailant. And this method he commended not only as the greatest service unto God and to our neighbour, but as the greatest security to ourselves; it being like the not expecting of a threatened War at home, but carrying it abroad into the Enemy's country. And nothing in the Christian's Warfare he judged so dangerous as a truce, and the cessation of hostility. With all, parley and holding intelligence with guilt in the most trivial things, he pronounced as treason to ourselves, as well as unto God: for while, saith he, we fight with Sin, in the fiercest shock of opposition we shall be safe; for no attempts can hurt us till we treat with the assailants: Temptations of all sorts having that good quality of the Devil in them, to fly when they are resisted. Besides, whereas young people are used to varnish o'er their non-performance and forbearance of good actions by a pretence unto humility and bashful modesty, saying, they are ashamed for to do this or that, as being not able for to do it well, he assured them this was arrant pride and nothing else. Upon these grounds his Motto of instruction to young persons was, Principiis obsta, and Hoc age, to withstand the overtures of ill, and be intent and serious in good; to which he joined a third advice, to be furnished with a Friend. Accordingly at a solemn leave-taking of one of his disciples, he thus discoursed: I have heard say of a man who upon his deathbed being to take his farewell of his Son, and considering what course of life to recommend that might secure his innocence, at last enjoined him to spend his time in making of Verses and in dressing a Garden; the old man thinking no temptation could creep into either of these Employments. But I in stead of these expedients will recommend these other, the doing all the good you can to every person, and the having of a Friend; whereby your life shall not only be rendered innocent, but withal extremely happy. Now after all these Excellencies, it would be reason to expect that the Doctor, conscious of his Merit, should have looked if not on others with contempt, yet on himself with some complacency and fair regard: but it was far otherwise; there was no enemy of his, however drunk with Passion, that had so mean an Esteem either of him or of his Parts as he had both of the one and other. As at his first appearing in public he was clearly overreached and cheated in the owning of his Books; so when he found it duty to go on in that his toilsome trade of writing, he was wont seriously to profess himself astonished at their reception into the world, especially, as he withal was pleased to add, since others failed herein, whose performances were infinitely beyond any thing which he was able to do. From this opinion of his mediocrity at best, and the resolution of not making any thing in Religion public before it had undergone all Tests, in point not only of truth but prudence, proceeded his constant practice of subjecting all his Writings to the censure and correction of his friends, engaging them at that time to lay aside all their kindness, or rather to evidence their love by being rigidly censorious. There is scarce any Book he wrote that had not first travailed on this errand, of being severely dealt with, to several parts of the Nation before it saw the light; nay so scrupulous was the Doctor herein, that he has frequently, upon suggestion of something to be changed, returned his papers the second time unto his Censor, to see if the alteration was exactly to his mind, and generally was never so well pleased as when his Packets returned with large accessions of objectings and advertisements. And in this point he was so strangely adviseable, that he would advert unto the judgement of the meanest person, usually saying, that there was no one that was honest to him by whom he could not profit; withal, that he was to expect Readers of several sorts, and if one illiterate man was stumbled, 'twas likely others of his form would be so too, whose interest, when he writ to all, was not to be passed over. Besides, those less-discerning Observators, if they could do nothing else, he said could serve to draw teeth; that is, admonish if aught were said with passion or sharpness, a thing the Doctor was infinitely jealous of in his Writings. Many years since he having sent one of his Tracts unto an eminent person in this Church, to whom he bore a very high and merited regard, to be looked over by him, he sending it back without any amendment, but with a profuse Compliment of liking every thing; the good Doctor was much affected with the disappointment, only comforted himself herein, that he had reaped this benefit, to have learned never to send his Papers to that hand again: which resolution to his dying day he kept. Nor was this caution before the publishing of his Books sufficient, but was continued after it, the Doctor importuning still his friends to send him their Objections, if in any point they were not satisfied; which he with great indifference considered in his reviews and subsequent Editions: however took more kindly the most impertinent exception, than those advertisements of a different kind which brought Encomiums and lavish praises, which he heard with as great distaste as others do the most virulent Reproaches. A farther proof of this low esteem the Doctor had of himself (if such were possible) would be meekness to those that slighted him and disparaged his abilities; this being the surest indication that our Humility is in earnest, when we are content to hear ill language not only from ourselves but from our enemies: which with how much indifference this inimitable person did 'tis neither easy fully to describe, nor to persuade to just belief. The short is, as he was never angry with his pertinacious dissenters for not being of his mind in points of speculation; no more was he in the least with his scornful Opposites for their being of it in their little value of his Person. And though he had, as well as other men, seeds of incitation in his natural temper, and more than others temptation to it in his daily and almost intolerable injuries; yet such was the habitual mastery he had gained over himself, that the strictest considerers of his actions have not in ten years perpetual conversation seen his Passion betray him to an indecent speech. Nor was his sufferance of other kinds less exemplary than that he evidenced in the reception of Calumny and foul Reproach: for though Pain were that to which he was used to say he was of all things most a Coward, yet being under it he showed an eminent Constancy and perfect Resignation. At the approach of Sickness his first consideration was, what Failing had provoked the present Chastisement, and to that purpose made his earnest prayer to God (and enjoined his friends to do the like) to convince him of it; nor only so, but tear and rend away, though by the greatest violence and sharpest discipline, whatever was displeasing in his Eyes, and grant not only patience, but fruitfulness under the rod. Then by repeated acts of submission would he deliver himself up into God's hands to do with him as seemed him good; amidst the sharpest pains meekly invoking him, and saying, God's holy Will be done. And even then when on the wrack of torture, would he be observing every circumstance of allay: When 'twas the Gout, he would give thanks 'twas not the Stone or Cramp; when 'twas the Stone, he then would say 'twas not so sharp as others felt, accusing his impatience that it appeared so bad to him as it did. And then when some degree of health was given, he exerted all his strength in a return of grateful recognition to the Author of it, which he performed with a vivacious sense and cheerful piety, frequently reflecting on the Psalmist's phrase, that it was a joyful thing to be thankful. Which his transport whoever should attentively observe, would easily apprehend how possible it was for the infinite fruitions of another World to be made up by the perpetual act of grateful recognition, in giving lauds and singing praises unto God. Upon this score he was a most diligent Observer of every Blessing he received, and had them still in readiness to confront unto those pressures he at any time lay under. In the intermissions of his importunate maladies he would with full acknowledgement mention the great indulgence, That he who had in his Constitution the Cause of so much pain still dwelling with him, should yet by God's immediate interposing be rescued from the Effect. To facilitate yet more this his serenity and calm of Mind, he laid this Rule before him, which proved of great use, Never to trouble himself with the foresight of future Events, being resolved of our Saviour's Maxim, that Sufficient to the day is the evil thereof: and that it were the greatest folly in the world to perplex one's self with that which perchance will never come to pass; but if it should, than God who sent it will dispose it to the best; most certainly to his Glory, which should satisfy us in our respects to Him; and, unless it be our fault, as certainly to our Good, which, if we be not strangely unreasonable, must satisfyin reference unto ourselves and private interests. Besides all this, in the very dispensation God will not fail to give such alleys which (like the cool gales under the Line) will make the greatest heats of sufferance very supportable. In such occasions he usually subjoined Epictetus his Dilemma, Either the thing before us is in our power, or it is not: if it be, let us apply the Remedy, and there will be no motive for complaint; if it be not, the Grief is utterly impertinent, since it can do no good. As also from the same Author he annexed this consideration, that every thing has two handles; if the one prove hot, and not to be touched, we may take the other that's more temperate: And in every occurrent he would be sure to find some cool handle that he might lay hold of. And to enforce all this, he made a constant recourse to the Experience of God's dealing with him in preceding accidents, which however dreadful at a distance, at a nearer view lost much of their terror. And for others that he saw perplexed about the manage of their difficult affairs, he was wont to ask them, when they would begin to trust God, or permit him to govern the world. Besides, unto himself and friends he was wont solemnly to give this mandate, Quod sis esse velis, nihilque malis, in his English, to rather nothing; not only to be content or acquiesce, but be resolved the present state to be the very best that could be wished or fancied. And thus all private concernments he passed over with a perfect indifference; the World and its appendages hanging so loose about him, that he never took notice when any part dropped off, or sat uneasily. Herein indeed he was concerned and rendered thoughtful, if somewhat intervened that had a possibility of duty appendent to it; in which case he would be solicitous to discern where the obligation lay: but presently rescued himself from that disquiet by his addresses unto God in Prayer and Fasting, which was his certain refuge in this as well as other Exigents; and if the thing in question were of moment, he called in the devotions of his Friends. Besides this Case he owned to have some kind of little discomposure in the choice of things perfectly indifferent; for where there was nothing to determine him, the balance by hanging even became tremulous and by a propensity to either side inclined to neither, making useless offers, but promoving nothing: which condition of mind he was wont to call the deliberation of Buridan's Ass. Upon which grounds of all other things he most disliked the being left to make a choice; and hugely applauded the state of subjection to a Superior, where an obsequious diligence was the main ingredient of Duty: as also he did the state of subjection unto pressure, as a privilege and blessing. And though he prayed as much and withal as heartily as any person for the return of the Nation from Captivity, he always first premised the being made receptive of such Mercy by the intervention of Repentance. He would often both publicly and privately assert solemnly, That prosperous iniquity would not be deliverance, but the most formidable judgement: That the Nation during its pressures was under the Discipline of God, given up to Satan by a kind of Ecclesiastic Censure; and should the Almighty dismiss us from his hands, and put us into our own, give us up to ourselves, with a Why should you be smitten any more? this were of all inflictions the most dreadful. Though with admirable aequanimity he could run over the black Annals of this unhappy Nation while its Calamities were reckoned up, he could scarce hear the slightest mention of its incorrigible guilt without dissolving into tears; especially when he happened to advert unto the impudence of that Hypocrisy which reconciled Godliness and Villainy, and made it possible for men to be Saints and Devils both together: whereby Religion grew ruinous to itself, and besides the scandal of such Enormities committed in the face of the Sun, with such pretence to Zeal and Holiness, our Faith became instructed to confute and baffle Duty, the Creed and the Commandments, Belief and Practice being brought into the lists, and represented as incompatible; while the flames intended for the Sacred Lamps, the establishment of Doctrinals and Speculative Divinity, burnt up the Altar and the Temple, consumed not only Charity, but good nature too, and untaught the common documents of honest Heathenism. And while this public Soul in the Contemplation of the Mischief which our sins both were themselves and in their issues, great in their provocation and fatal in their plagues, indulged unto his pious and generous Griefs, yet even then considering Judgement not to be more just than useful to the sufferers, he found out means from that unlikely Topick to speak comforts to himself and others. In that last Crisis of our gasping hopes, the defeat of the Cheshire forces, which promised all the Misery consequent to the sway of a Senate gorged in blood, and yet still thirsting more, and of a veterane Army composed of desperate fanatics engaged in equal guilts among themselves, and equal hate against the other, and therewithal the Religion, Liberty and Being of the Nation; he thus addresses himself to the desponding sorrows of a friend. SIR, Sept. 2. I have received your last, and acknowledge the great fitness of it to the present opportunities under which God hath pleased to place us. If we look about us there was never any louder call to lamentation and bitter mourning; and the sharpest accents of these are visibly due to those continued Provocations which appear to have wrought all our woe: yet is there not wanting some gleam of light, if we shall yet by God's grace be qualified to make use of it. It is the supreme Privilege of Christianity to convert the saddest evils into the most medicinal advantages, the valley of Anchor into the door of hope, the blackest Tempest into the most perfect 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and it is certain you have an excellent opportunity now before you to improve and receive benefit by; and you will not despise that affection which attempts to tell you somewhat of it. It is plainly this; That all kind of Prosperity (even that which we most think we can justify the most importunate pursuance of, the flourishing of a Church and Monarchy) is treacherous and dangerous, and might very probably tend to our great ills, and nothing is so entirely safe and wholesome as to be continued under God's disciplines. Those that are not bettered by such methods, would certainly be intoxicated and destroyed by the pleasanter draughts; and those that would ever serve God sincerely in affluence, have infinitely greater advantages and opportunities for it in the adverse fortune. Therefore let us now all adore and bless God's wisest choices, and set vigorously to the task that lies before us, improving the present advantages, and supplying in the abundance of the inward beauty what is wanting to the outward lustre of a Church; and we shall not fail to find that the Grots and Caves lie as open to the Celestial influences as the fairest and most beautified Temples. We are ordinarily very witling to be rich, and flatter ourselves that our aims are no other than to be enabled by much wealth to do much good; and some live to see themselves confuted, want hearts when Wealth comes in greatest abundance: so those that never come to make the experiment, have yet reason to judge that God saw it fit not to lead them into temptation, lest if they had been proved they should have been found faithless. And the same judgement are we now obliged to pass for ourselves, and by what God appears to have chosen for us, to resolve what he sees to be absolutely best for us; and it must be our greatest blame and wretchedness, if what hath now befallen us be not effectually better for us, than whatever else even Piety could have suggested to us to wish or pray for. And then, I pray, judge candidly whether any thing be in any degree sober or tolerable in any of us, beside the one great necessary Wisdom as well as Duty of Resignation, and making God's choices ours also. I have been these three weeks under restraint by the Gout and other pains, and am not yet on my legs, yet blessed be God have all causes of thanksgiving, none of repining. And I shall with confidence pray and hope that the great multitudes of persons and families that are now under far sharper exercises, will find as much greater alleys and sweetnesses, and the black Cloud (as oft it hath done) vanish undiscernibly. And when this most unlikely Prophecy became fulfilled, when that black cloud he spoke of, contrary to all humane expectation, broke not in Tempest, but the fairest Sunshine that ever smiled on this our Land, when our despairs and resolute despondencies became unravelled by a miracle of Mercy, which after-ages will be as far from giving credit to in its endearing most improbable circumstances, as this of ours (pardon the harshness of a true comparison) is from esteeming at its merited rate; our Excellent Patriot, and best of men, seeing the dawnings of this welcome day, paid down at once his greatest thanks and heartiest deprecations as a tribute to it, passionately fearing what he had more passionately wished for, suspecting his own hopes and weeping over his fruitions. As to His Sacred Majesty, he looked on His Return with pity and compassion, as bringing Him to that uneasy, if not insuperable, Task of ruling and reforming a licentious people; to that most irksome sufferance of being worried with the importunities of covetous and ambitious men, the restless care of meeting the designs of mutinous and discontented spirits: resolving, His most wished Return could only be a blessing to His people, but unto Him could not be so, but only on the score, by having opportunities through glorious self-denyals to do good. And for all other persons, he said, that having seriously considered what sort of men would be better for the Change, he could not think of any. As for the Church, 'twas certain, Persecution was generally the happiest means of propagating that; she than grew fastest when pruned most: then of the best complexion and most healthy when fainting through loss of blood. As to the Laity, in all their several stations and estates they had so much perverted the healthful dispensations of Judgement, that it was most improbable they should make any tolerable use of Mercy. And lastly, in reference to himself, he resolved (though sure on weaker grounds) Affliction most conducible. During the current of that Tyranny which for so many years we all groaned under, he kept a constant aequable serenity and unthoughtfulness in outward accidents: but the approaching Change gave him somewhat of pensive recollection, insomuch that discoursing of occurrents, he broke forth into these words, I must confess I never saw that time in all my life wherein I could so cheerfully say my Nunc dimittis as now. Indeed I do dread Prosperity, I do really dread it. For the little good I am now able to do, I can do it with deliberation and advice: but if it please God I should live and be called to any higher Office in the Church, I must then do many things in a hurry, and shall not have time to consult with others, and I sufficiently apprehend the danger of relying on my own Judgement. Which words he spoke with the greatest concernment of earnest melting passion as is imaginable. Accordingly it pleased Almighty God to deal; and having granted to his servant the satisfaction of a full return and gracious answer to his Prayer in the then-everyday-expected Reception of his Sacred Majesty, not to deny his other great request of not sharing a temporary advantage from it: but as his merits were far beyond those transitory ensnaring retributions, to remove him from them to those solid and unmixed Rewards, which could be nothing else then such, and would be such for ever. But this sad part of our relation requiring to itself a fresh unwearied sorrow, and the Saintlike manner of this Excellent person's passage from the World being as exemplary and conducing to the uses of Survivers as the notice of his Life; we shall allow it a distinct apartment, and once again break off the thread of our discourse, for to resume it in its proper unentangled Clue. Section the Third. AT the opening of the year 1660, when every thing visibly tended to the reduction of His Sacred Majesty, and all persons in their several stations began to make way and prepare for it, the good Doctor was by the Fathers of the Church desired to repair to London, there to assist in the great Work of the composure of Breaches in the Church: Which Summons as he resolved unfit either to dispute or disobey, so could he not without much violence to his inclinations submit unto. But finding it his Duty, he diverted all the uneasiness of antipathy and aversation into a deliberate preparation of himself for this new Theatre of affairs on which he was to enter. Where his first care was to fortify his mind against the usual temptations of Business, Place, and Power. And to this purpose, besides his earnest Prayers to God for his assistance, and disposal of him entirely to his Glory, and a diligent survey of all his inclinations, and therein those which were his more open and less defensible parts, he farther called in and solemnly adjured that Friend of his with whom he had then the nearest opportunity of commerce, to study and examine the last ten years of his life, and with the justice due to a Christian Friendship to observe his failances of all kinds, and show them to him: which being accordingly attempted, the product, after a diligent inquest, only proving the representation of such defects which might have passed for Virtue in another person; his next prospect was abroad, what several ways he might do good unto the public: and knowing that the Diocese of Worcester was by the favour of His Majesty designed his Charge, he thought of several opportunities of Charity unto that place, and among others particularly cast in his mind for the repair of the Cathedral Church, and had laid the foundation of a considerable advance unto that work. Which early care is here mentioned as an instance of his inflamed desire of doing good, and singular zeal to the house of God, and the restoring of a decent Worship in a like decent place: For otherwise it was far from his Custom to look forward into future events, but still to attend and follow after Providence, and let every day bear its own Evil. And now considering that the Nation was under its great Crisis and most hopeful method of its Cure, which yet if palliate and imperfect would only make way to more fatal Sickness, he fell to his Devotions on that behalf and made those two excellent Prayers which were published immediately after his Death, as they had been made immediately before his Sickness, and were almost the very last thing he wrote. Being in this state of mind, fully prepared for that new course of life, which had nothing to recommend it to his taste but its unpleasantness, (the best allective unto him) he expected hourly the peremptory mandate which was to call him forth of his belov'd Retirements. But in the instant more importunate, though infinitely more welcome, Summons engaged him on his last Journey: For on the 4th of April he was seized by a sharp fit of the Stone, with those symptoms that are usual in such cases; which yet upon the avoidance of a Stone ceased for that time. However on the 8th of the same month it returned again with greater violence: and though after two days the pain decreased, the suppression of Urine yet continued, with frequent Vomitings, and a distension of the whole body, and likewise shortness of breath, upon any little motion. When, as if he had by some instinct a certain knowledge of the issue of his Sickness, he almost at its first approach conceived himself in hazard: and whereas at other times, when he saw his friends about him fearful, he was used to reply cheerfully, that he was not dying yet; now in the whole current of his disease, he never said any thing to avert suspicion, but addressed unto its cure, telling his friends with whom he was, that he should leave them in God's hands, who could supply abundantly all the assistance they could either expect or desire from him, and who would so provide, that they should not find his removal any loss. And when he observed one of them with some earnestness pray for his health and continuance, he with tender passion replied, I observe your zeal spends itself all in that one petition for my recovery; in the interim you have no care of me in my greatest Interest, which is, that I may be perfectly fitted for my Change when God shall call me: I pray let some of your fervour be employed that way. And being pressed to make it his own request to God to be continued longer in the World, to the service of the Church, he immediately began a solemn Prayer, which contained first a very humble and melting acknowledgement of sin, and a most earnest intercession for Mercy and Forgiveness through the Merits of his Saviour: Next resigning himself entirely into his Maker's hands, he begged that if the Divine Wisdom intended him for Death, he might have a due preparation for it; but if his Life might be in any degree useful to the Church, even to one single Soul, he then besought Almighty God to continue him, and by his grace enable him to employ that Life be so vouchsafed industriously and successfully. After this he did with great affection intercede for this Church and Nation, and with particular vigour and enforcement prayed for sincere performance of Christian duty now so much decayed, to the equal supplanting and scandal of that holy Calling; that those who professed that Faith might live according to the Rules of it, and to the Form of Godliness superadded the Power. This with some repetitions and more tears he pursued, and at last closed all in a Prayer for the several concerns of the Family where he was. With this he frequently blessed God for so far indulging to his infirmity, as to make his disease so painless to him; withal to send it to him before he took his journey, whereas it might have taken him in the way, or at his Inn, with far greater disadvantages. Nor did he in this Exigence desist from the exercise of his accustomed Candour and Sweetness, whereby he was used to entertain the addresses of the greatest Strangers. For two Scholars coming at this time to see him, when they having sent up their names, it appeared they were such as he had no acquaintance with, though they that were about the Doctor, considering his illness, proposed that a civil excuse might be made, and the Visitants be so dismissed; he resisted the advice with greatest earnestness, saying, I will by no means have them sent away, for I know not how much they may be concerned in the Errand they come about, and gave order they should be brought up: and when upon trial it appeared that a Compliment was the whole affair, yet the good Doctor seemed much satisfied that he had not disappointed that unseasonable kindness. Likewise his own necessities, however pressing, diverted not his concernments for those of others. It so happened that a neighbour- Lady languishing under a long weakness, he took care that the Church-office for the sick should be daily said in her behalf: and though at the beginning of the Doctor's illness the Chaplain made no other variation, then to change the singular into the plural, yet when his danger increased, he then thought fit to pray peculiarly for him; which the good Doctor would by no means admit, but said, O no, poor Soul, let not me be the cause of excluding her; and accordingly had those Prayers continued in the more comprehensive latitude. And indeed those Offices which had a public character upon them he peculiarly valued. For as to the forms of Devotion appropriate to his Extremity, he took care they should not exclude the public ones, but still gave these a constant place: and when in his sharp agonies his friends betook themselves to their extemporary ejaculations, he composed those irregularities by saying, Let us call on God in the voice of his Church. And in seasons of this kind whereas the making of a Will is generally an uneasy task, as being at once a double parting with the World; to him it was in all respects agreeable and welcome. For having bequeathed several Legacies to his relatives and friends, and left the remainder of his Estate to the disposal of his intimate and approved friend Doctor Henchman, now Ld B p of Salisbury, as if recovered from the worst part of his disease, the necessity of reflecting upon Secular affairs, he became strangely cheerful, and overlooked the encroaching importunate tyranny of Sickness. On the 20th of April, being Good-friday, he solemnly received the Sacrament; and again on the 22th of April, which then was Easter-day. At which time when the number of Communicants was too great to have place in his Bedchamber, and the whole Office was overlong for him to go through with, it was ordered, that the Service being performed in the usual apartment, a competent number should afterwards come up and communicate with him: Which though he allowed as most fitting, yet he did so with grief and trouble, breaking out into this passionate complaint, Alas! must I be excommunicated? To be absent from any part of public Worship he thus deeply resented: So far was he from their opinion (and they would be thought Godly too) who in their most healthful leisurable days make this not their penance, but election and choice. Amidst his weakness and indisposition of all parts, in the act of celebration his Devotion only was not faint or sick, but most intent and vigorous: yet equalled by his infinite Humility, which discovered itself as in his deportment, so particularly in that his pathetical ejaculation, which broke forth at the hearing of those words of the Apostle, Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners; unto which he rejoined, in an accent that neither intended a compliment to God nor men, to either of which he was not under a temptation, Of whom I am the chief. The Exuberance of this Humility appeared in all other occasions of instance: particularly about this time a Letter being sent unto him, in which, among many expressions of great value, there was added an intimation, That there was now hope the days were come when his desert should be considered, and himself employed in the Government as well as the instruction of the Church; at this he was hugely discomposed, and expressed a grief and anguish beyond that his Sickness in any period, however sharp, had extorted from him. But now through the long suppression of Urine the blood grown thin and serous, withal made eager and tumultuous by the mixture of heterogeneous parts, the Excellent Doctor fell into a violent bleeding at the Nose; at which the bystanders being in astonishment, he cheerfully admonished to lay aside impatience in his behalf, and to wait God's leisure, whose seasons were still the best: withal thankfully acknowledged God's mercy in the dispensation, alleging, that to bleed to death was one of the most desirable passages out of this World. And truly he very justly made this observation; for it pleased the Divine Providence strangely to balance the symptoms of the Doctor's Disease to his advantage: for the sharp pains of the Stone were allayed by that heaviness of sense which the recuilment of serous moisture into the habit of the body and insertions of the Nerves occasioned; and when that oppression endangered a Lethargic or Apoplectic torpour, he was retained from that by the flux of blood. Which several accidents interchangeably succeeded one the other, insomuch that in this whole time of Sickness he neither had long violence of torment, nor diminution of his intellectual faculties. And here this violent haemorrhage of which we now speak being of itself even miraculously stopped, when all applications were ineffectual, a drowsiness succeeding, which happened at the time of Prayers, though he perfectly attended, and returned to every response amidst his importunate infirmity, he very sadly resented it, saying, Alas! this is all the return I shall make to this mercy, to sleep at Prayers. When he was in pain he often prayed for Patience, and while he did so, evidenced that his Prayer was heard; for he exercised not only that, but Thankfulness too, in his greatest extremity crying out, Blessed be God, blessed be God. Nor did he, according to the usual method, inflict his Sickness upon those about him, by peevishness disquieting his attendants; but was pleased with every thing that was done, and liked every thing that was brought, condescending to all proposals, and obeying with all readiness every advice of his Physicians. Nor was it wonder he should so return unto the endeavours of his Friends, who had tender kindness for his Enemies, even the most inveterate and bloody. When the Defeat of Lambert and his Party, the last effort of gasping Treason in this Nation before its blessed return unto Obedience, was told him, his only triumph was that of his Charity, saying with tears in his eyes, Poor Souls! I beseech God forgive them. So habitual was Pity and Compassion to his Soul, that all representations concentred there: Virtue had still his Prayers, because he loved it; and Vice enjoyed them too, because it wanted them. In his own greatest desolations he administered reliefs to those about him, mixing Advices with his Prayers, and twisting the tenderness of a Friend to that of the Christian, he then dispensed his best of Legacies, his Blessings; most passionately exhorting the young growing hopes of the Family, whose first innocence and bashful shame of doing ill he above all things laboured to have preserved, to be just to the advantage of their education, and maintain inviolate their first baptismal Vows: then more generally commended unto all the great advantage of mutual friendly Admonitions. On which occasion when the good Lady asked him what more special thing he would recommend unto her for her whole life, he briefly replied, Uniform Obedience: Whereby (if we may take a Comment from himself at other times) he meant not only a sincere reception of Duty as such, because commanded, and not because 'tis this or that, pleasant or honourable, or perchance cheap or easy duty; but withal the very condition of Obeying, the lot of not being to choose for ones self, the being determined in all proposals by humane or Divine Command, and where those left at large, by the guidance of God's Providence, or the assistance of a Friend. But amidst these most Christian divertisements, these happiest anodynes of Sickness, the 25 of April fatally drew on, wherein his flux of Blood breaking forth again with greater violence than it had done before, was not to be stopped by outward applications, nor the revulsives of any kind, not of its own, the opening of a Vein, first in the arm, and after in the foot; till at last the fountain being exhausted, the torrent ceased its course, and indeed that Vital one which its regular motion kept on foot: for the good Doctor leaving off to bleed about three of the clock in the afternoon, became very weak and dis-spirited, and cold in the extreme parts, had strength only continued to persevere in his Devotions, which he did unto the last moment of his life, a few minutes before his Death breathing out those words which best became his Christian Life, Lord, make haste. And so upon that very day on which the Parliament convened, which laid the foundation of our Release and Liberty, and brought at once this Nations return from its Captivity, and its Gracious Sovereign Prince, this great Champion of Religion and Pattern of all Virtue, as if reserved for Masteries and Combats of exigence and hazard, for Persecution and Sufferings, was taken hence, and by his loss repressed the overflowing and extravagance of those joys that waited the reception of His Sacred Majesty. 'Twill be below the greatness of the Person as well as of this Loss, to celebrate his Death in womanish complaints, or indeed by any verbal applications; his Worth is not to be described by any Words besides his own, nor can any thing beseem his Memory but what is Sacred and Eternal as those Writings are. May his just Fame from them and from his Virtue be precious to succeeding times, grow up and flourish still: and when that characters engraved in Brass shall disappear, as if they had been writ in Water, when Eulogies committed to the trust of Marble shall be illegible as whispered accents, when Pyramids dissolved in dust shall want themselves a monument to evidence that they were once so much as ruin; let that remain a known and classic History describing him in his full portraiture among the best of Subjects, of Friends, of Scholars, and of Men. The dead body being opened (which here is mentioned, for that the Reader cannot want the curiosity to desire to know every thing that concerned this great Person) the principal and Vital parts appeared sound; only the right Kidney, or rather its remainder, which exceeded not the bigness of an Egg, was hard and knotty, and in its cavity besides several little ones, a large Stone of the figure of an Almond, though much bigger, whose lesser end was fallen into the Ureter, and as a stopple closed it up; so that 'tis probable that Kidney had for divers years been in a manner useless. The other Kidney was swollen beyond the natural proportion, otherwise not much decayed; but within the Ureter four fingers breadth a round white Stone was lodged, which was so fastened in the part, that the Physician with his Probe could not stir it, and was fain at last to cut it out: and so exactly it stopped the passage, that upon the dissection the water before enclosed gushed forth in great abundance: from whence it appeared perfectly impossible for Art to have ennobled itself in the preservation of this great Person; as it was also manifest that nothing but the consequences of his indefatigable Study took him from us, in the perfection and maturity, the 55th year of his Life. On the morrow in the evening, 26 day of the same month, he was, according to his desire, without Ostentation or Pomp, though with all becoming Decency, buried at the Neighbour-Church of Hampton, with the whole Office and usual Rites of the Church of England, several of the Gentry and Clergy of the County, and affectionate multitudes of persons of less quality attending on his Obsequies, the Clegy with ambition offering themselves to bear him on their Shoulders; which accordingly they did, and laid that Sacred burden in the Burial-place of the generous Family which with such friendship had entertained him when alive: where now he rests in Peace, and full assurance of a glorious Resurrection. Having thus given a faithful, though imperfect, draught of this excellent Person, whose Virtues are so far from imitation by practice, that they exercise and strain the comprehension of words; and having showed how much he has merited of this Nation in its most pressing Exigents, both by his Writings and by his Example, and perchance above both these by his unwearied intercession in Devotion; it may possibly be neither useless nor unacceptable to offer a request unto the Reader in his behalf, and show him an Expedient whereby he may pay his debt of gratitude, and eminently oblige this holy Saint though now with God. 'Tis this, to add unto his account in the day of Retribution by taking benefit by his Performances: and as he being dead yet speaks, so let him persuade likewise, That the Covetous Reader would now at his request put off his sordid Vice, and take courage to be Liberal, assured by his Example, that if in the worst of times Profuseness could make rich, Charity shall never bring to beggary. That the Proud opinionated person on the same terms would in civility to him descend from his fond heights, instructed here that lowly Meekness shall compass great respects, and in stead of Hate or Flattery be waited on with Love and Veneration. That the Debauched or Idle would leave upon this score his lewd unwarrantable joys, convinced that strict and rugged Virtue made an age of Sunshine, a life of constant Smiles, amidst the dread fullest Tempests; taught the Gout, the Stone, the Cramp, the Colic, to be treatable Companions, and made it eligible to live in bad times and die in flourishing. That the Angry man, who calls Passion at least Justice, possibly Zeal and Duty, would for his sake assume a different temper, believe that Arguments may be answered by saying Reason, Calumnies by saying No, and Rail by saying nothing. The Coward and Disloyal, that durst not own in words, much less by service and relief, his Prince, that complemented his Apostasy and Treason by the soft terms of changing an Interest, will from hence learn that the surest way to safety is to have but one Interest, and that espoused so firmly as never to be changed; since such a Constancy was that which a Cromwell durst not persecute. That the employed in Business would from hence dismiss their fears of regular Piety, their Suspicion that Devotion would hinder all dispatch and manage of affairs; since it appeared, his constant Office (like the Prayer of Josuah, which made the Sun stand still) seemed to have rendered unto him each day as long as two. That the Ambitious person, especially the Ecclesiastic, would think employment and high place a Stewardship, that renders debtors both to God and man; a residence at once of constant labour and attendance too; a precipice that equally exposes both to envy and to ruin: and consequently to be that which should become our greatest fear and terror, but at no hand our Choice: since it was that which this heroic constancy was not ashamed to own a dread of, and whose appearance did render Death itself relief and rescue. Lastly, that the narrow Self-designing person, who understands no kindness but advantage; the Senfual, that knows no love but lust; the Intemperate, that owns no companion but Drink; may all at once from him reform their brutish Errors: since he has made it evident, that a Friend does fully satisfy these distant and importunate desires, being as the most innocent and certainly ingenuous entertainment, so besides that the highest mirth, the greatest interest, and surest pleasure in the World. They that had the happiness of a personal acquaintance with this best of men, this Saint, who seems in our decays of ancient Virtue lent us by special Providence even for this end and purpose, that we might not disbelieve the faith of History delivering the Excellency of primitive Christians; know with what thirst and eagerness of Soul he sought the spiritual advantage of any single man how mean soever, with what enjoyment he beheld the recovery of any such from an ill course and habit. And whatever apprehensions other men may have, they will be easily induced to think, that if blessed Spirits have commerce with Earth, (as surely we have reason to believe it somewhat more than possible) they, I say, will resolve it a connatural and highlyagreeable accession unto his fruitions, that when there is joy in the presence of the Angels of God for a sinner that reputes, he may be an immediate accessary to that blessed triumph, and be concerned beyond the rate of a bare spectator. Persuasions to Piety nowadays are usually in scorn called Preaching: but 'tis to be hoped that this, how contemptible an Office soever it be grown, will be no indecency in this instance; that 'twill not be absurd if his History, who deservedly was reckoned among the best of Preachers, whose Life was the best of Sermons, should bear a correspondence to its Subject, and profestly close with an application: That it adjures all persons to be what they promised God Almighty they would be in their Baptismal Vows, what they see the glorious Saints and Martyrs and Confessors, and in particular this holy man has been before them; be what is most honourable, most easy and advantageous to be at present; and, in a word, to render themselves such as they desire to be upon their deathbeds, before they leave the World, and then would be for ever. Which blessed achievement as it was the great design of the Excellent Doctor's both Words and Writings, his Thoughts and Actions, is also (besides the payment of a debt to Friendship and to Virtue) the only aim of this imperfect, but yet affectionate and well-meant, account: And may Almighty God by the assistance of his Grace give all of these this their most earnestly-desired effect and issue. THE END. By the generous Piety of the Right Reverend Father in God Humphrey Lord B P of Sarum, there is now erected to the Sacred Memory of this Great Person in the Parish-Church of Hampton, the place of his Interrement, a fair Monument of White Marble bearing this Inscription. HENRICUS HAMMONDUS, Ad cujus Nomen assurgit Quicquid est gentis literatae, (Dignum Nomen Quod Auro, non Atramento, Nec in Marmore perituro, sed Adamante potius Exaretur) Musagetes celeberrimus, vir planè summus, Theologus omnium consummatissimus, Eruditae pietatis Decus simul & Exemplar; Sacri Codicis Interpres Facilè omnium oculatissimus, Errorum Malleus Pest homines natos felicissimus, Veritatis Hyperaspistes Supra-quam-dici-potest Nervosus; In cujus Scriptis Elucescunt Ingenii Gravitas & Acumen, Judicii Sublimitas & 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, Sententiarum 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, Docendi Methodus utilissima, Nusquam dormitans Diligentia. Hammondus (inquam) 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, In ipsa Mortis Vicinia positus, Immortalitati quasi contiguus, Exuvias Mortis venerandas (Praeter quas nihil Mortale habuit) Sub obscuro hoc Marmore Latere voluit, VII. Cal. Maia's, Ann. AEtat. LV. M DC LX. The Marble Tablet would receive no more in charge: but ours indulging greater Liberty, I shall set down the whole Elegy, as it grew upon the affectionate Pen of the Reverend Doctor T. Pierce, who was employed to draw it up. Sed latere qui voluit, Ipsas Latebras illustrat; Et Pagum aliàs obscurum Invitus cogit inclarescere. Nullibi 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Illi potest deesse, Qui, nisi 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, Nihil aut dixit aut fecit unquam. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Animi dotibus ita Annos anteverterat, Ut in ipsâ linguae infantiâ 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, Eâque aetate Magister Artium, Quâ vix alii Tyrones, esset. Tam sagaci fuit Industriâ, Ut horas etiam subcisivas utiliùs perderet Quam plerique mortalium serias suas collocârunt. Nemo rectiùs de se meruit, Nemo sensit demissiùs; Nihil eo aut excelsius erat, aut humilius. Scriptis suis factisque Sibi Uni non placuit, Qui tam Calamo quam Vitâ Humano generi complacuerat. It a Labores pro Dei sponsa, ipsóque Deo exantlavit, Ut Coelū ipsum Ipsius Humeris incubuisse vi- (deretur. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 omnem supergressus Romanenses vicit, prostigavit Genevates, De Utrisque triumphârunt Et VERITAS & HAMMONDUS: Utrisque meritò triumphaturis, Ab Hammondo victis, & Veritate. Qualis Ille inter Amicos censendus erit, Qui demereri sibi adversos vel Hostes potuit? Omnes haereses incendiarias Atramento suo deleri maluit, quam Ipsorum aut sanguine extingui, Aut dispendio animae expiari. Coeli Indigena Eò Divitias praemittebat, Ut ubi Cor jam crat, Ibi etiam the saurus effet: In hoc uno avarus, (vit, Quòd prolixè Benevolus prodigâ manu croga- AEternitatem in Foenore lucraturus. Quicquid habuit, voluit habere, Etiam invalidae Valetudinis. (far It a habuit in deliciis non magis facere quam suf- Totam Dei Volunt atem, ut frui etiam videretur Vel morbi Taedio. Summam animi 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 test at am fecit Hilaris frons & exporrecta: Nusquam alias in Filiis Hominum Gratior ex pulchro veniebat Corpore Virtus. Omne jam tulerat punctum, Omnium plausus: cum Mors, quasi suum adjiciens Calculum, Funestâ Lithiasi terris abstulit Coeli avidum, Maturum Coelo. Abi, Viator, Pauca sufficiat delibâsse: Reliqua serae posteritati narranda restant, Quibus pro merito enarrandis Una aet as non sufficit.