A brief VIEW OF THE State of the Church of ENGLAND, As it stood in Q. Elizabeth's and King JAMES his reign, to the year 1608.  
Being a Character and History of the BISHOPS of those times. And may serve as an Additionall Supply to Doctor GOODWINS Catalogue of Bishops.  
WRITTEN For the private use of Prince Henry, upon occasion of that Proverb, 
Henry the eighth pulled down Monks and their Cells.  
Henry the ninth should pull down Bishops, and their Bells.   
By Sir JOHN HARINGTON, of Kelston near Bath, Knight.  
LONDON, Printed for Jos. Kirton at the King's Arms in Paul's Churchyard. 1653.   

TO THE NOBLE LADY, and his honoured Friend, the Lady JANE PILE, The sometimes virtuous Consort of the late worthy Baronet, Sir Francis Pile of Colingborne in the County of Wilts, deceased. The publisher of these Relations wisheth all presperity in this world, and the world to come.  
Most honoured Madam,  
I Had fully designed another Discourse, viz. concerning the Nature & Work of Conscience for your ladyship's Patronage. But understanding of preparations by an abler judgement, on that subject, I have for some time suspended the publishing of my own conceptions. And therefore, though at present I shall not entitle your ladyship to my own, yet make bold to prefix your name to the labours of another, viz. This following supply to a former Catalogue of Bishops: A work that calls him author, whom my mother called father, and in which I presume your ladyship with delight will read the duly merited Commendations of that Reverend Prelate Dr. John Still, whom your ladyship's children call Great Grandfather. This Author styles his acquaintance, his Friend, his instructor, his Diocesan, whom the diocese of Wells once knew their worthy Bishop, and the poor of the almshouse of Wells still remember their bountiful benefactor. Now as this author in the following relations hath avoided the needless multiplying of words, and hath industriously studied a compact brevity: So I shall not widen the entrance to them by rarifying these dedicatory lines into any large compass, either by an importunate craving your ladyship's acceptance, that were to wrong your goodness, or else by any ample declaring the reasons that guided my thoughts to the publishing this tract, or entitling your ladyship to it. Yet that I may somewhat satisfy the Reader, I shall give a brief account for the one and other. And thereby let the World know, that an equitable gratitude to the dead author's memory, and a good will that aims at the pleasure and profit of the living hath engaged my desires to lend a helping hand to midwife this discourse, which hath lain ready for the birth above 40 years, now at last unto the public view; It being the ingenious offspring of his brain who was a remote instrument of my being. And indeed the discourse itself is so full of profit and delight mixed together, as acquainting us with many and choice occurrences of former men and times, that it would have engaged the greatest stranger to greater labour. And therefore prevents a needless commendation from my related Pen, since it will abundantly commend itself to the ingenious Reader. To whom it likewise will sufficiently be justified even in those passages that seem most likely to offend: Since such that are ingenious are supposed duly to consider,  
The nature of the Discourse: A History, the greatest commendation of which is impartial truth.  
The quality of the Author: A Courtier, that writes to a Prince, the son of that King who held that prophetic Axiom as a sure truth, and we see it fulfilled, No Bishop, No King.  
The time when, and the subject of whom this Tract is.  
So that if any should take, what is not intended, offence at the honour he gives those, that have been since less honoured, or at the zeal he shows against some whom he supposed their adversaries: The Publisher desires such to consider, that in those days when this discourse was penned, those principles which now ap pear publicly as the Sun, and have burnt as a flame, were then but a small Candle newly lighted, and that carried in a dark lantern, not to be seen by all, or in all places, and not at all to be seen in the Court, where the author lived; Which considered, the most displeased Reader, if any such be, must impute those heats to the author's zeal, if not according to truth, yet according to his knowledge, and the than apprehended true principles of ecclesiastical Policy.  
And as for my prefixing your ladyship's name to this discourse, I shall only add, That as I conceive it not incongruous to entitle one of those Bishop's grandchildren to the relation of the lives of those Bishops, so am I exceeding glad by such an opportunity to have the advantage of letting your ladyship know, That in what soever may fall within the compass of any capacity to be any way serviceable to your ladyship's concernments, your desires or command shall not meet with a readier or more industrious compliance from any, then from him, who craving pardon for this boldness, takes the liberty to write himself, without compliment or vanity,  
Madam, Your ladyship's most humble and respectful servant, JOHN CHETWIND. Wells, May 1. 1652.   
A Supply or Addition to the Catalogue of Bishops to the year 1608.  



And first of Mr. PARKER.  
WHen I consider with myself the hard beginning, though more prosperous success of the reformed Church of England, methinks it may be compared to a foughten battle; in which some captains and soldiers, that gave the first charge, either died in the field, or came bleeding home; but such as followed, putting their enemies to flight, remained quiet and victorious. Or I may more fitly (without offence) liken that to the success of them of the Primitive Church, wherein the Apostles and their immediatc Successors were one while honoured and magnified, by their followers the Christians; As St. Peter, at whose feet the believers laid down all their goods; and St. Paul, who was received as an Angel of God; another while tormented, and persecuted, by Jews and Heathen; as the same Apostles, whipped by Jews; hanged and headed by the Romans; sometimes (I say) a Centurion, a Lieutenant● a proconsul favouring them; straight a Priest, a Scribe, and a Lawyer promoting against them. A few of Caesar's household wishing well unto them, and believing them. But the Caesars themselves for 300 years (except a very few) detesting and suppressing them. For in such sort Cranmer, Ridley, Latimer, Hooper, Rogers, Coverdale, and many others enduring great conflicts in those variable times of King Henry the Eighth, King Edward, and Queen Mary, suffering by fire, by imprisonment, banishment, loss and deprivation, with many fights, many flights and many frights for their conscience sake; those that died had the glory of valiant soldiers, and worthy Martyrs; such as survived, have since in a long and happy peace, enjoyed the comfort of their victory, and are like still to hold the same, if some mutinous soldiers of their own camp, do not by disturbing the peace at home, give heart to the enemy abroad. Among the surveyors of these first Leaders, that past so many pikes, the first in time, and the highest in place, was Doctor Matthew Parker, (who, as by this Author is noted) having lost all his Livings for his marriage, now being made Archbishop of Canterbury, dissembled not his marriage, as Cranmer in King Henry the eighths time, was found to do; which, because some have taken occasion to note with too black ink, to exclude him from the reputation of a rubricated Martyr; and have cited the testimony of his son's widow yet living, that she was carried in a trunk, and by misfortune almost stifled, by being set by an ignorant Porter with her head downward; which tale goes very current among the Papists. I can truly affirm, that this is a mere fiction, for I have examined the Gentlewoman herself (being of kin to my wife, and a Rogers by name) and she hath sworn to me, she never reported, nor ever her selfheard, of any such misfortune.  
But now though this Archbishop (Parker) dissembled not his Marriage, yet Queen Elizabeth would not dissemble her dislike of it. For whereas it pleased her often, to come to his house, in respect of her favour to him (that had been her mother's Chaplain) being once above the rest greatly feasted; at her parting from thence, the Archbishop and his Wife being together, she gave him very special thanks, with gracious and honourable terms, and then looking on his Wife, and you (saith she) Madam, I may not call you, and Mrs. I am ashamed to call, you so as I know not what to call you, but yet I do thank you.  
It is true, she misliked Marriage in Bishops, and was not very forward to allow that, in some of the laity; for I knew one of good place about her, that had contracted himself to a rich widow, and yet would not adventure to marry her, till he had gotten the Queen to write, for that, which he had obtained before, to the intent, that the Queen reputing that as her benefit, might not dislike with her own act. But for Clergy men, caeteris paribus, and sometime imparibus too, she preferred the single man, before the married.   

Of Archbishop Edmond Grindal.  
Of Mr. Edmond Grindal, whereas my author writes he was blind, I have heard by some (that knew somewhat in those days) that he kept his house upon a strange occasion, the secret whereof is known to few, and the certainty is not easy to find out, but thus I was told; that  
There was an Italian Doctor (as I take that of physic) that having a known Wife a liar, yet bearing himself on the countenance of some great Lord, did marry another Gentlewoman, (which to do now, is by most godly Laws since made felony.) This good Archbishop, not winking at so public a scandal, convented him for that, and proceeded by ecclesiastical censures against him; Letters were presently written from this great Lord, to the Archbishop, to stop the proceeding, to tolerate, to dispense, or to mitigate the censure; but the Bishop remained still unmoved and unmovable: when no subjects entreaty could be found to prevail, they entreat the sovereign to write in the doctor's behalf; but this John Baptist not only persisted in his Non licet habere eam, but also in a reverent fashion, required an account of her majesty's faith, in that she would seem to write in a matter that (if sh. were truly informed) was expressly against the word of God. The Queen in a gracious disposition, was purposed to have yielded an account in writing; but the great Lord not only dissuaded her from that, as too great an indignity; but incensed her exceedingly against him; whereupon, he was privately commanded to keep his house; where because he was sometime troubled with sore eyes, his friends gave out he was blind. But if he were blind, that was like to the soothsayer Tiresias that foresaw and told Pentheus' ruin as Qvid writes.  
Et veniet, nec enim dignabere numen honore, Meque sub his tenebris nimium vidisse quereris.  
For that Lord, that so persecuted this Prelate about his physicians two wives dying twenty years since, left two Wives behind him, that can hardly be yet agreed which was his lawful Wife,  
and so much for Archbishop Grindall.   

Doctor Whiteguift.  
Upon the decease of Archbishop Grindall, the State desirous, to have a learned and discreet person, in so eminent a place; and the Queen resolved to admit none, but a single man; choice was made of Doctor Whiteguist, than Bishop of Worcester, a man in many respects very happy, and in the best Judgements very worthy. He was noted for a man of great learning in Cambridge, and he was grown to his full ripeness of reading and judgement; even then, when those that they called Puritans (and some merely define to be Protestants scared out of their wits) did begin by the plot of some great ones, but by the Pen of Mr. Cartwright, to defend their new discipline.  
Their endeavour as was pretended was to reduce all, in show, atleast to the Purity, but indeed to the poverty, of the primitive Churches.  
These Books of Mr. Cartwright not unlearnedly written, were more learnedly answered by Doctor Whiteguift. Both had their reward. For Mr. Cartwright, was by private favour placed about Coventry, where he grew rich, and had great maintenance to live on, and honoured as a patriarch, by many of that Profession. Doctor Whiteguift, was made Bishop of Worcester, and there having a great good report of Houskeeping, and governing the Marches of walls, he was (as my author hath told, called unto Canterbury. While he was Bishop of Worcester, though the revenue of that be not very great, yet his custom was to come to the Parliament very well attended, which was a fashion the Queen liked exceeding well. It happened one day Bishop Elmer of London, meeting this Bishop with such an orderly Troop of Tawny Coats, and demanding of him, how he could keep so many men, he answered, it was by reason, he kept so few women.  
Being made Archbishop of Canterbury, and of the privy council, he carried himself in that mild, and charitable course, that he was not only approved greatly, by all the Clergy of England, but even by some of those, whom with his pen he might seem to have wounded; I mean these called Puritans, of whom he won divers by sweet persuasions to conformity. In the Star-chamber, he used to deliver his sentence in a good fashion, ever leaning to the milder censure as best became his Calling. He was a great stay in Court and council, to all oppressions of the Church, though that current was some time so violent, as one man's force could not stop that.  
He founded an hospital in or nigh Croyden, and placed poor men therein, in his own life time, and being grown to a full age, that he might say with St. Paul. Bonum certamen certavi, cursum confeci, &c. he was so happy, as to give to his sovereign and preferrer, the last spiritual comfort she took in this World (I hope to her eternal comfort) and after that, he not only joined with the other Lords, for the proclaiming of King James, but on St. James his day following, did set the Crown on his head, and anointed him with oil, and so having first seen the Church settled under a religious King, and the Crown established in a hopeful succession, he fell into a palsy, to which he had been formerly subject, and with no long or painful sickness, he yielded to nature, deserving well this Epitaph, written by a young Scholar of Oxford, who was with me at the writing hereof.  
Candida dona tibi Whyt●gifte, sunt nomen, & omen,  
Candidior a tuis 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 dedit.  
Nomen habes 〈◊〉 inscriptum nunc ergo lapi●●o,  
Et sto●● pro meritis redditur alba 〈◊〉.   

Doctor Richard Bancroft.  
Upon the death of Archbishop Whiteguift, divers worthy men were named in the vacancy. His Majesty not after the manner of some Princes, seeking to keep that vacant, but rather hastening to fill that. The Bishops of Durham and Winchester were as it were, voce populi made competitrs with the Bishop of London, rather by their eminence of merit and Learning, then by any known desire, or endeavour of them or their friends. Wherein methinks by the way, envy itself cannot but gratulate the Church of England, that is so furnished with learned Bishops, as if choice had been to be made, not by a judicious Prince, but by the fortune of a lot among those three, and many more beside, that could not have fallen amiss. But his Majesty had long since understood of his writing, against the Genevising, and Scotizing Ministers: and though some imagined he had therein given the King some distaste, yet finding him, in the disputations at Hampton Court, both learned and stout, he did more and more increase his liking to him; So that although in the common rumour, Thoby Matthew then Bishop of Durham was likest to have carried that, so- learned a man, and so assiduous a Preacher, qui in concionibus dominatur as his emulous and enemy wrote of him, yet his Majesty in his learning knowing, and in his wisdom, weighing that this same strict charge Pasce oves mes feed my sheep, requires as well a pastoral courage of driving in the stray sheep, and driving out the infectious, as of feeding the sound, made especial choice of the Bishop of London, as a man more exercised in affairs of the State. I will add also my own conjecture out of some of his Majesties own speeches, that in respect he was a single man, he supposed him the fitter, according to Queen Elizabeth's principles of state: upon whose wise foundations, his Majesty doth daily erect more glorions buildings.  
But I lose labour to repeat these things to your highness better known, then to myself. I should only speak of the former times.  
Of his beginning therefore, and rising, I will boldly say that, which I would I might as truly of all that follow in this Treatise, viz. that he came to all his preferments very clearly, without prejudice or spoil of his Churches.  
He was Tutor in Cambridge, to the Lord Cromwell, who had cause to wish, and (as I have heard) hath wished, he had stayed with him longer, though he were sharp and austere. My Lord Chancellor Hatton made special choice of him, to be his Examiner.  Est a liquid de tot Graiorum millibús unum a Diomedes legi. 
By his means Queen Elizabeth came to take knowledge of his wisdom and sufficiency. He both: wrote, as I touched before, and laboured earnestly by all good means for the suppressing of the fantastical novelists. After the strange and frantic attempt of Hacket and his fellows; which practice, though the branches thereof were easily cut off, yet was it thought, to have a more dangerous and secret root. But for these his travels, as the Queen and State favoured him, so the seditious Sectaries (to use Judge Popham's word, that would not have them called Puritans) they, l say, no less maligned-him in Libels and rhymes; (for they were void of reasons) laying the imputation of Papistry unto him; some of them were punished in the Starchamber, namely one Darling, the last. Starchamber day in Queen Elizabeth's time, was sharply censured. And it is no wonder, if they loved him not, for indeed he had stoutly opposed their chiefest darlings. As for the imputation of Papistry, which they lay on all men that cross their designs, he is so free from it, that I can truly affirm the greatest blow the Papists received in all Queen Elizabeth's time, came from his hand, or at least from his head: For having wisely observed the emulation, ambition; and envy, that lurked in the minds of their secular Priests, and the Jesuits one against another, he found the means by the same policy, and with the like spirit, that St. Paul set the Pharisees against the Sadduces, to set the Priests against the Jesuits, Watson against Parsons (Impar congressus) but yet thereby he so divided their languages, as scantly they can understand one another as yet. These things acted, before the King your father's happy entry, I thought good to touch, though more sparingly then my particular affection & his just deserts do give me occasion. Of his late employments of his great care, in setting; forward and setting forth all his majesty's godly proceedings, though I know much, yet if I should say all I know, perhaps it is less than your highness knows; therefore I will conclude with that which the truth, rather than my kindness enforceth me to say, that no Bishop since I can remember hath been counted more vigilant in looking to his charge. Ne quid Ecclesia detrimenti capiat.    

Of the Bishops of London,  

and first of Bishop ELLMER.  
MY purpose in this work from the beginning, and my promise to your highness, being to add to this Author, a supply of some matters that he purposely omitted writing in the latter years of Queen Elizabeth, and my relation being to write plainly, without fear or favour of those I do write, I will proceed confidently, as I have begun; in which, I persuade myself I have some advantage of the Author himself, for freedom of speech, both in the time, and many other circumstances. For he was no fool that gave that rule,  Mitissima sors●est Regnorum, sub Rege novo. 
Again, I being a layman; am not so obnoxious to their apprehensions; that may be offended with that I shall say, as he was being a Churchman.  
Thirdly, I lived in a place, where I might know many things without enquiry; which had been scarce safe for him, in that time to inquire after.  
Lastly, he writes to the world publicly, and I but privately to your highness. Therefore I will proceed quoad sciam, poteroque.  
The first Bishop of London I have to write of, is Mr. John Elmer, of whom my Author hath spoken-too little, and I perhaps shall seem to say too much; yet once I thought to have said somewhat of Bonner, because I may remember him living in the late Queen's time unbishopped, and went sometimes abroad; but I was so young then, as I could judge nothing; and he was so hated, that every ill-favoured fat fellow that went in the street, they would say, that was Bonner. But methinks now, by that I have heard of him, I could liken him to Dionysius the tyrant of Syracuse, who being cruel and peremptory in prosperity, was both patient and pleasant in adversity. For example, that Tyrant being expelled his Realm, and living a poor pedant, was one day with men of mean sort drinking in a Tavern, some Diogenes espying him, came to him with reverence, opening, and shaking his upper garment (for so they used in those days, that came into the King's chambers, to show they had no weapons.) Dionysius perceiving the scorn, was nothing troubled, but bade him come and drink with him, and shake his clothes at the going out, that his host might see he carried nothing with him. So Bonner having twice lost his bishopric, walking with his Tippet in the street, one begged it of him (in scoff) to line a coat; No (saith he) but thou shalt have a fool's head, to line thy cap. And to another, that bade him good morrow Bishop quoudam, he straight replied, Farewell, Knave semper. I have been told also, that one showed him his own picture in the Book of Martyrs, in the first edition, on purpose to vex him; at which he laughed, saying, a vengeance on the fool, how could he get my picture drawn so right? and when one asked him if he were not ashamed to whip a man with a beard, he laughed, & told him, his beard was grown since; but (saith he) if thou hadst been in his case, thou wouldst have thought it a good commutation of penance, to have thy bum beaten, to save thy body from burning; but this is too much of this sloven.  
I come now to Bishop Elmer, whom in my own particular I loved very well, and yet performing truly the task I have undertaken, I shall show perhaps no great sign of it. He was ā man but mean of stature, yet in his youth very valiant, which he forgot not in his age. When he first became a preacher, following the popular phrase, and fashion of the younger Divines of those times, which was to inveigh against the superfluities of the Churchmen, he is remembered, namely to have used these words in a Sermon, beforem a great Auditory, Wherefore away with your Thousands, you Bishops, and come down to you: Hundreds, &c. but this was but a heat of his spirit; of which not long after, by reading and conference, he was throughly cured; in so much as being asked by one of his own rank, after he was Bishop of London, what he meant, to preach of the brainsick fashion, he answered with the words of St. Paul, Cum essem parvulus, loqu●bar ut parvulus, sapiebam ut parvulus.  
But certain it is, no Bishop was more persecuted and taunted by the Puritans of all sorts, than he was, by libels, by scoffs, by open railing, and privy backbiting. It is vulgar, yet a passage not unworthy remembering, that past between one Mr. Maddoxe, and him: For when the Bishop had recovered him about some matter concerning paritanism, and he had answered the Bishop somewhat untowardly and thwartly; the Bishop, (as he was ingenious ever) said unto him, thy very name exprefseth thy nature, for Maddox is thy name, and thou art as mad a beast as ever I talked with. The other not long to seek of an answer, by your favour, Sir, (said he) your deeds answer your name righter than mine: for your name is Ellmar, and you have marred all the Elms in Fulham, by lopping them. He used for recreation to bowl in a Garden; and Marton Marprelate thence takes this taunting scoff●, that the Bishop would cry, Rub, rub, rub to his bowl, and when it was gone too far, say, The devil go with it; and then, quoth he, the Bishop would follow. Thus they rubbed one another, till they were all galled sometimes; and the Bishop was so weary of the place, that he would gladly have removed to Ely, and made great suit for it, and was put in some hope of it. I have seen a Letter or two of his, to his friend, subscribed thus, Yours in love, but not in London; yet would he not take it with those hard conditions that were proposed, lest Mr. Maddox, and his like, might call him Ellmarr; so as it was noted as an ill fortune of his, to have died Bishop of London, which eight before him in an hundred years had not done, but been either preferred, or deprived. He was diligent in preaching at his cure, where he was first beneficed; and when his Auditory grew dull, and unattentive, he would with some pretty and unexpected conceit, move them to attention. Among the rest was this: He read a long Text in Hebrew, whereupon all seemed to listen what would come after such strange words, as if they had taken it for some conjuration. Then he showed their folly, that when he spoke English, whereby they might be instracted and edified, they neglected, and harkened not to it; and now he read Hebrew, which they understood no word of, they would seem so careful and attentive. When there was talk of dangers, rumours of wars, and invasions, than he was commonly chosen to preach in the Court, and he would do it in so cheerful a fashion, as not only showed he had courage, but would put courage into others. Here is much doubt, saith he, of Malum ab Aquilone, and our Coleprophets have prophesied that in exaltatione Lunae Leo jungetur Leaenae, The Astronomers tell of a watery Trigon.  
But as long as Virgo is in that Ascendent with us, we need not fear of nothing; Deus nobiscum, quis contra nos, and for this, the Queen would much commend him, yet would she not remove him. But though he were stout, and wise and rich, yet had he beside his conflicts with those called Puritans, also some domestical crosses. He had a Daughter, a modest Gentlewoman, and very well brought up, whom he gave in marriage to one Mr. Adam Squire, a Minister and Preacher, and learned, but a very fantastical man, as appeared partly the first day; for as I have heard, he would needs preach at his own marriage, upon this Text, It is not good for Adam to be alone. This Text he so pursued, after he had been some years married, that though his Wife were away, yet Adam would not be alone. This course bread jealousy, jars and complaints, and the Bishop as he had good cause, reprehended his Son in Law, he thinking to defend, or at least to revenge himself, by recrimination, accused her to have received a love letter from a Knight (but the Squire himself had indicted that) and this was so cunningly handled by him, and with such probability, that her fault was as suspicious, as his was manifest, falsehood will out at last. The Bishop that feared never a Knight, nor Lord in England, sends for the Knight (contrary to the squire's expectation) bolts out the whole matter, finds there were treacherous tricks put on his Daughter, but no Meretrix, and being too wise to publish his own disgrace, and too stout to endure that; I have credibly heard (and believe that to be true) that with a good waster, he so mortified this old Adam of his Son in Law Squire, that he needed no other penance but this, which was according to the old Canon per Disciplinam, & verbera. In his Sons he was more fortunate, than many Bishops in England have been thought to have been; his eldest being a civil Gentleman, and well left, another an excellent Preacher, that hath preached oft before the King, and namely one Sermon on this Text out of the 2d of the Canticles, verse 15. Take us the Foxes, the little Foxes that destroy our Vines: for our Vine, have small Grapes: which Sermon so pleased his Majesty, that besides other approbations of that, he said to me, that if Mr. Ellmer had not had his father's collections and notes against Puritans, he could never have made so good a Sermon,  
and so much of Bishop Ellmer.   

Of Bishop Fletcher.  
There succeeded in less than one years' vacancy, as hath been already told, Mr. Richard Fletcher, a comely and courtly Prelate, but I may say, as Tully- said, when he had commended King Dejotarus to Caesar, by the name of Rex frugi, a frugal, or thrifty King, he straight addeth this parenthesis, quanquam Reges hoc verbo laudari non solent, although said he, Kings are not accustomed to be praised with this word thrifty, so I might say, that comely and courtly, are no fit Epithetons for the true praise of a Prelate. I remembered before how Ely had been long vacant, almost 20 years, and Bristol and Oxenford though both new erected bishoprics (saved as it were out of the ruins and ashes of the abbeys) were thought in some danger again to be lost, for Bristol was held in Commendam, and Oxford not much to be commended; wherefore about the year 88 that same annus mir abilis, some of the zealous Courtiers, whose devotion did serve them more to prey on the Church, than pray in the Church, hearkened out for fit supplies to these places, and sent their Agents to find out some men that had great minds, and small means or merits, that would be glad to leave a small deanery to make a poor bishopric, by new leasing out Lands, that were now almost out of Lease, but to free him from the guilt of it, the poor Bishop must have no part of the fine. There was then a Deane whom I may not name; but to give the story more life, I will name his place for names sake of Coventry, a man of great learning, but of no great living. To him was sent one of these Foxes, the little Foxes that destroy our Vines, and make small grapes with this favourable Message, that his honourable Lord, had sent him to him, to let him know, how much he respected his good gifts (in which word also, there might be some equivocation) and though that was hard in those times, to pleasure men of his worth, according to their merit, yet my Lord in favour of him, hath bethought him of this course, that whereas Salisbury was then like to be void by a Remove, if this Dean would for the present take the bishopric of Oxford, which was then in a long vacation also, and make Leases, & c. ●he should the next year be removed to Salisbury: the honest Dean that in his soul detested such sacrilege, made this mannerly and ingenuous answer. Sir, I beseech you commend my humble service to his honourable Lordship; but I pray you tell his Lordship, that in my Conscience, Oxford is not my right way, from Coventry to Salisbury: what became of Oxford I shall touch, and but touch hereafter, I come now to Bishop Fletcher, that made not so much scruple to take Bristol in his way, from Peterborough to Worcester, though that were wide of the right way, upon the sinister or bow hand many miles; as the Card of a good Conscience, will plainly discover. I fottuned to be one day at the Savoy with Mr. Secretary Walsingham, where Mr. Fletcher was then upon his dispatch for Bristol, a familiar friend of his meeting him there, bad God give him joy, my Lord elect of Bristol, which he taking kindly and courtly upon him, answered that it had pleased indeed the higher powers, so to dispose of him; but said his friend in his ear, do you not lease out tot & tot to such and such. He He clapping his hand on his heart, in a good graceful fashion, replied with the words of Naman the Syrian. Herein the Lord be merciful to me, but there was not an Elizeus to bid him go in peace. What shall I say for him? Non erat hoc hominis vitium sed temporis? I cannot say so, for your Highness knows I have written otherwise in a Book of mine I gave you Libro 3. numero 80.  
Alas a fault confessed were half amended, but sin is doubled, that is thus defended,  
I know a right wise man says and believes where no receivers are, would be no thieves.  
Wherefore at the most I can but say Dividatur. He was a well spoken man, and one that the Queen gave good countenance to, and discovered her favour to him, even in her reprehensions, as Horace saith of Maecenas. Rerum tutela mearum, cumsis, & brave sectam stomacheris ob unguem; for she found fault with him once for cutting his beard too short, whereas good Lady (if she had known that) she would have found fault with him for cutting his bishopric so short. He could preach well and would speak boldly, and yet keep decorum. He knew what would please the Queen, and would adventure on that though that offended others. Once I remember there had been two councillors sworn within compass of one year, and neither of them had a grey hair at that time, whereupon he glawnced in his Sermon at it with a sentence of Seneca.  
Which Mr. Daniel upon a better occasion did put into English verse in this sort,  
That we may truly say, these spoilt the State,  
Young council, private gain, & partial hate.  
The Queen as I said, found no fault with his liberal speech, but the friends of these councillors taxing him for that, I have heard he had this pretty shift, to tell the friends of either of them, he meant it by the other. Being Bishop of London, and a Widower, he married a gallant Lady and a Widow, Sister to Sir George Gifford the Pensioner, which the Queen seemed to be extremely displeased at, not for the by-gain of a Bishop (for she was free from any such superstition) but out of her general mislike of Clergy men's marriage: this being indeed a marriage that was talked of at least nine days, yet in a while he found means to pacify her so well, as she promised to come, and I think did come to a house he had at Chelsey. For there was a stair and a door made of purpose for her, in a bay window, of which pleasant wits descanted diversely, some said that was for joy, to show he would (as the Proverb is) cast the house out at window for her welcome, some more bitingly called it the impress or Emblem of his entry into his first bishopric, viz. not at the door, but at the window. But certain it is that (the Queen being pacified, and he in great jollity, with his fair Lady and her Carpets and Cushions in his bedchamber) he died suddenly, taking Tobacco in his chair, saying to his man that stood by him, whom he loved very well, Oh boy, I die; whereupon many bolts were roved after him, and some spitefully feathered, which both for charity sake, as well as brevity, I will omit; but this blunt one, not knowing out of whose Quiver it first came; but fitting a grey goose wing, I will produce as his most vulgar Epitaph:  
Here lies the first Prelate made Christendom see,  
a Bishop, a husband unto a Ladee,  
The cause of his death was secret and hid,  
He cried out I die, and even so he did.  
He was buried in the Church, the Dean and Chapter of Paul's not being so scrupulous, as they of York were, the 9 of Hen. 1. who because their Archbishop died suddenly, buried him without the Church-porch, notwithstanding he had been their great benefactor.   

Bishop Vaughan.  
Mr. Richard Vaughan is the next I have to speak of, being the last man named in my author's Book, and of him he hath but two lines, only declaring him to have been the Bishop of Chichester.  
Upon the remove of my Lord of Canterbury that now is● he succeeded him in London, as is not unknown to your highness.  
His beginning of preferment was under the Lord Keeper Puckering, being his examiner, of such as sued for the benefices in my Lord's gift; in which, though some complain he was too precise, yet for my part I ascribe to that one of his greatest praises. For this I know, that a Preacher being a nobleman's chaplain, and therefore qualified for two Benefices, came to him ●recommended in good sort, and brought with him a Gentleman of both their acquaintance, that sometime had been an University man, to speak for his approbation. Mr. Vaughan examined him of no very deep points, and found him but shallow, and not very ready in the Roman Tongue, his friend having been fain to help him up in two or three foul stumbles, both of language and matter; whereupon he dismissed him, without all hope of the Benefice, and after told the Gentleman seriously, that if he would have it himself, he would allow him sufficient, but the suitor by no means. He was in those days very prompt, and ready in speech, and withal factious; he was an enemy to all supposed miracles, insomuch as one arguing with him in the Closet at Greenwich, in defence of them, and alleging the Queens healing of the Evil for an instance, asking him what he could say against it, he answered, that he was loath to answer arguments taken from the topic place of the Cloth of estate; but if they would urge hi● to answer, he said his opinion was, she did it by virtue of some precious stone in possession of the Crown of England, that had such a natural quality. But had Queen Elizabeth been told, that he had ascribed more virtue to her Jewels (though she loved them well) then to her person, she would never have made him Bishop of Chester. He grew heavy and corpulent of a sudden, not so much with too much ease, as with too little exercise. Corpus quod corrumpitur aggravat animam, soon after his remove to London he fell into that drowsy diseas●, of which he after died, growing thereby unfit for the place, that requires a Vigilantius, and not a Dormitantius. He was held a mild man, and was well spoken of in the City, which sometime happeneth not to them that deserve the best. To conclude, being taken with an apoplexy, he may be properly said to have slept with his forefathers.   

Doctor Ravis.  
Within a few months there succeeded him Doctor Ravis Bishop of Gloucester, who is not formerly mentioned in this book, because Mr. Goldborow his predecessor in Gloucester was then living. His preferment to Gloucester makes me remember a story that some record of Scipio, who being made general of the Roman Army, was to name his quaestor or Treasurer for the wars, whom he thought fit; being a place in those days, as is now in these, of great importance, one that took himself to have a special interest in Scipio's favour was an earnest suitor for it, but by the delay, mistrusting he should have a denial, he importuned him one day for an answer. Think not unkindness in me (said Scipio) that I delay you thus, for I have been as earnest with a friend of mine to take it, and yet cannot prevail with him: Noting hereby, that offices of charge and conscience, are fittest for such as shun them modestly, rather than such as seek them greedily. And even so did my Lords of the council deal with Mr. Ravis, who being then Dean of Christ-Church, which lightly is not held, but by some choice man of the University, being a place of good value and reputation, was requested by them to take this bishopric, when many that sued to have it, were put by. But as he was not willing to go thither, so they of Gloucester were more unwilling he should go thence, he was in a short space in so good liking of all sorts, insomuch as some that can scaut well brook the name of a Bishop, yet can be content to give him a good report.  
For my part, I have observed a great change in Gloucester, from that it seemed nine years since, about the Earl of Essex going: into Ireland; for at that time neither their Bishop seemed to care for them, lying at a Prebends in Worcester, which methought was very inconvenient; nor they seemed much to care for themselves, all their buildings both public and private looking old and ruinous: whereas of late years, their Bishop keeping his house near them, and being daily with them, they have built them a new marketplace, and are now building a fair Hall for justice; which commendable and comfortable disposition of the people, there and elsewhere, though it be principally ascribed to the joy and comfort that all well affected persons took of his majesty's happy entrance, and peaceable government, and of the succession established in his hopeful issue; yet is not the left to be imputed to the discretion and diligence of the Pastors that waken and stir up their charity, and make them more sensible of God's good blessings bestowed on them; and the rather by this good Bishops means. The Lord of Shrewsbury hath very Nobly, and like himself contributed to this so great and necessary work, giving a large portion of Timber towards it.  
Now, as I said, it hath pleased his Majesty to place him in London, Magistratus indicabit virum. This public place (for I count the other was almost private to this, will show what is in the man, I need not prognosticate, but I can wish and hope, that as he is for his perfon comparable to Mr. Fletcher, so he may equal Doctor Ellmar in courage, Doctor Bancroft in carefulness, and Doctor Vaughan in his mild demeanour, to win the love of the people; and thus much be said concerning the Bishops of London.    

Of the Bishops of Winchester.  
HAving past Canterbury and London, both Neighbours to the Court, and as it were within the verge; I thought the greatest part of my task passed over. Howbeit Winchester I find also will afford some variety of matter; and as it hath been a place that hath had many learned men, and bred many, both Divines, Philosophers, and Poets, so I shall take occasion in speaking of some of these that ensue, to produce some Poems both Latin and English; some made at Winchester, some of Winchester, some against Winchester: not digressing herein much from the method and manner of my author; who, as your highness may see, produceth good old rhyming verses of friars, both in praise and dispraise of some of the Bishops, for my purpose from the beginning, though it were chiefly to inform your highness, knowledge, with a faithful report of some things passed in Queen Elizabeth's time, overpassed by my author; yet was it also to sauce it in such sort with some variety of matter, not impertinent, to cheer your spirit, lest a dull relation of the Acts of grave graybeards to a young Prince might grow fastidious.  

First therefore of the first Bishop Wickham,  
whose life my Author hath set out so amply and orderly, as I need add nothing thereunto; only, because a man that hath made so many good scholars deserves a better verse then that on his Tomb.  
Willelmus dictus Wickhā jacet hic niece victu●  
Jugiter oretis, tumulum quicunque videtis.  
And such like stuff, which a Winchester scholar now would be scourged, if he make no better. I having this pretty Poem of his whole life, made by Doctor Johnson, thought I could never do it or him more honour, then to present it to your Princely view, for as Sir Philip Sidney curseth all despisers of Poetry, with this poetical Anathema: First, that they may be in love, and lose their love for lack of a Sonnet; next, that when they die, their memory may die for want of an Epitaph: so, I would wish such as wrong good Poets, no worse punishment, then to have some vile Verse written of him, whose reading (as Martial saith) might make a man's physic work the better with him; such as for the most part those lazy friars were were wont to write; for my part, though Wickhams Epitaph be but seven or eight lines, and this elegy (I think) about twenty times seven lines, yet I must confess, it were less tedious to me at this present to read the seven score, than the seven; and hoping it may seem so to you, I have here annexed them.  

Ortus & vita Gulielmi de Wickham olim Episcopi Wintoniensis, & conditoris istius Collegii.  

Qua capit australes comitatu Hamptona Britannos  
Wickhamia est vicus nec nisi parvus ager;  
Vixit Johannes illic cognomine longus  
Cui fuit in Casti, parte Sibilla tori  
Hanc habuit patriam Gulielmus & hosce parentes  
Wickhamus augurio, nec tamen absque bon●.  
Namque loci ut nomen, sic vim matrisque patrisque  
Haud dubie in vitam transtulit ille suam.  
Longus enim ut longo duraret tempor a caute  
Ut bene prospiceret cuncta Sibilla dedit  
Ergo sub Edvardo natus regnante secundv  
Tunc ubiter sceptri, sexta cucurrit hiems  
Vinginti primos studiis & moribus annos  
Wickhamiae patris cura ea summa dedit.  
Nec tamen hic omnes, nam partem temporis hujus  
Venta & Edingdoni praesulis aula tulit:  
Potinus Edwardi translatus tertius in aulam  
Non fieri nullo caepit & esse loco.  
Namque bis octo annis recte & feliciter actis  
Rem fidei plenam consiliique subit;  
Winde●ora a suit pagus celeberrimus illic  
Rex statuit castri maenia magna sui:  
Wick●amus huic operi praeponitur atque probatum est  
Ingenio quantum polluit arte fide  
Ergo fit Edvardo charus custo sque Sigilli  
Non ita post multos incipit esse dies.  
Nec tamen optati meta haec fuit ultima honoris  
Crevit adhuc regi charior usque suo:  
Usque adeo ut sexto sit factus Episcopus anno  
Jussus ventana pascere in urbe gregem  
Hic mihi vaniloqui minuenda est fabula vulgi  
Fabula de tanto non bene ficta viro  
Namque nec Estmeonam petiit fallaciter unquam,  
Sed tulit auratum rege sciente pedum  
Nec fuit indoctus doctos facturus ut illum  
Fama refert Regi verba dedisse suo.  
Consule quae in tanti gessit molimine regni  
Prudentem dices palla diumque virum.  
Consule quae in sacri scribuntur calce statuti  
An faceret doctos addubit asse scies:  
Adde quod Chistorici si pagina vera Frosarti)  
Rex Intercessor Praesul ut esset erat.  
Missa igitur vulgi facimus verba prophani  
Quaer at & exactam nostra Thalia fidem:  
Wickhamus ad summos evectus praesul honores  
Edwardo inque dies charior inque dies  
Jam patriae Lumen, jam Cancellarius idem  
Summus er at Regi presidiumque suo;  
Cum subito (sic magna ruunt summisque negatum est  
Stare diu) ex tanto decidit ille gradu:  
Namque per invidiam regi dilatus ab illo  
Pellitur e patria missus ut exul humo.  
Hoc factum est potius regem stimulante sonatu  
Quam quod erat culpae conscius ille malae  
An tamen exiret regno non convenit & sunt  
Qui paenae summum displicuisse putant.  
Interea moritur Rex hic Edvardus & ejus  
Opportuna Nepos sceptra Richardus habet:  
Hic jubet exilio revocetur praesul ab isto  
Utque locumrursus quem tulit ante fer at;  
Quin etiam census cereales reddit ad annos  
Tres minus exilii quod puto tempus er at.  
His opibus dives, mentemque per omnia versans  
Non male quo servet tam bene parta modo;  
Sed quid agat virtute sua quid praesule dignum  
Quidve Deo tantas cui reserebat opes  
Post a lia Oxonii (quod longum duret in aevum  
Possit & a memori posteritate coli,  
Constituit pulchros studiis Phoeboque penates  
Atque sacram Musis aedific are domum.  
Septima crevit Hiems post fundamenta locata  
Ingreditur Custos & sua turba larem;  
Turba atque his pue●is famulisque decemque ministri  
Otia discentum qui bene semt er alant.  
Magna quidem sunt haec tamen haec tam magna  
Lector adhuc tanto non potuere viro  
Namque opere exacto hoc vix proxima fluxerat placere  
Cum parat alterius tecta locare domus  
Quae prope Ventanae bene caepta Palatia sedis aestas  
Crevit & in sexto vere parata stetit;  
Ergo illic totidem studiosos esse jubebat  
Queis & rectores pedonomosque dedit.  
Qui simulac primos complerint fortiter annos  
Musarum in studiis rhetoricisque tropis,  
Altius inque novas diducta colonia terras  
Oxonium semper lecta juventus eat:  
Haec duo Pieriis collegia condita mistis  
Sunt in tutela diva Maria tua;  
Id●irco nova dicta puto quod nulla vetustas  
Nulla dies morsus tentat in illa suos  
Hic potuit credi finem fecisse struendi  
Wickhamus & sumptus jam tenuisse suos.  
Non tenuit divi nam quicquid in aede Swithini  
Nolari occiduam spectat ab arce plagam;  
Concio qua festis celebratur sacra diebus  
Quaque suo in tumulo conditus ipse jacet.  
Totum hoc tam vastam molem tantasque columnas  
Impensis struxit restituitque suis;  
Regis opes dicet propius qui spectat & idem  
Vix regum tantas esse putabit opes.  
Forsitan & Gallis (nam sic & fama Monastis  
Quos rex a regno jussit abire suo.  
Reddidit aequali praetio quaecunque recepit  
Parisiiis fundos Parisiisque lares.  
Non tamen hoc sumptu minor esse domestica caepit  
Cura, sed & famulos pavit ut ante suos.  
Pavit, & ipsius testatur script a sepulchro  
Littera gustavit dives, inopsque cibum  
Huic it a viventi cum jam longaeva senectus  
Corporis effaeti debilitasset onus,  
Grata quies venit vitae non discolor actae,  
Ultima curarum linea grata quies.  
Annus erat vitae decies octavus & illis  
Henrici quarti sceptra diebus erant;  
J am testamentum quaeris si fecerit ullum,  
Fecit; si fuer at quod daret ille? fuit.  
Quod fuerit factis reliquum tot sumptibus? oh  
Inveniet nullum pagina nostra fidem.  
Et tamen hoc dicam regales vincere gazas  
Quae dedit in scriptis ultima dona suis  
Extat opus Craesumque putes scripsisse vel illum  
Cujus facta haeres Roma superba fuit:  
Vel cujus digitis mutatum fertur in aurum  
Quicquid in aurifluas contigit ire manus;  
Nec tamen ignavos bona tanta reliquit in usus  
Successusque bonus propositum gresuit.   

Namque diocesin ditavit templa per omnem  
Multaque cognatis, pauperibusque ded it:  
Multa quoque & regi non fidis pauca ministris  
Sed neque gimnasiis muner a pauca suis.  
Haec sunt ergo viri monument a perennia tanti  
Cujus dum vixit gloria tanta fuit.  
Nec dubito qui sic vixit sic mortuus idem est,  
Quin sit apud superos nobilis umbra deos.  
Est etenim nam si caelestis clauditur aula  
Tot meritis, nobis illa patere queat?  
Hactenus ire libet de Magni laudibus, Hosce  
Suscipe conatus, Lector Amice meos.    
And hereby your highness may observe how vain that foolish tradition is which my Author discreetly omitted, as not believing that some will still maintain that Wickham was unlearned, and only a Surveyer of buildings, and by a kind of fraud deceived King Edward 3. (no likely Prince to be so deceived) begging the Parsonage of Eastmeane, to which by like Authority they will have the bishopric of Winchester annexed as unseparably as the earldom of Arundel to Arundell-Castle, for who could think that such a King as Edw. 3. would make Sir John Laclattin, first his Secretary, than privy-seal, than Master of the Wards, and Treasurer of France, and lastly Prelate of the Garter, and Chancellor of England,  
and so much of the first Wickham.   

Of Stephen Gardiner.  
Because I will not be always be praising, but sometimes when just cause is given, reprehend men's demerits, as well magnify their merits, I will take occasion to speak somewhat of Stephen Gardiner, twice bishop of Winchester; and therefore may challenge to be twice remembered, though for some things of him that were to be wished they were ever forgotten, my Author derects this Reader to Mr. Fox's book of Martyrs, for a more full Relation of his doings; but that is so full (though I assure myself it is very faithful) that I doubt your highness will find it over tedious to read; my purpose is therefore but to note some important observations out of this Story, and after, as I did of Wickham in Latin, so to add some English poetry written of him, and to him, which is not to be found in Mr. Fox, though some of it helps to confirm something concerning him, affirmed by Mr. Fox, and called in question by others. Mr. Fox therefore first greatly praiseth his natural gifts of mind, his sharp wit, his excellent memory, which is indeed the store-house of all learning and knowledge, for tantum scimus quantum meminimus. But to these (saith he) he had great vices, as pride, envy, & cruelty, flattering to his Prince, submiss to his superiors, envious to his equals (namely to Cromwell) and haughty to his inferiors, these or the like are Mr. Fox's words. It seems further in relation of his Life and Death, he was a Catholick-Protestant, or a protesting Catholic, for as he shows at large out of his Books & Sermons, though he received the Pope's authority in Queen Mary's time; Yet his opinion was as his writings before declared, and as the wiser sort I think, do still hold of it, that it is but a temporal constitution of Men, and agreement of Princes, to allow the same, which upon just occasions they may restrain or exclude, as they shall find cause; but yet I observe this, that although it was necessary for Queen Mary, in respect of her Birth to admit of the Pope's Authority, as the contrary was as necessary for her Sister, yet this so Catholic Queen, and this so popish Prelate could keep out the Pope's legate out of England by her royal Prerogative when he would have sent a legate hither not to her liking; again, he was earnest against Marriage of Ministers, yet he confesseth frankly, that a married man may be a Minister: he defended the real presence, yet he allowed the Communion under both kinds, he writ in defence of Images, yet he publicly approved their pulling down when they were superstitiously abused. Finally he said at his Death, that that would mar all, to teach the people, that they are freely justified by the blood of Christ, and yet even then, when he could not dissemble, he confessed it to be true Doctrine.  
Lo how far this stout Prelate, Cedere nescius, (as Mr. Fox saith of him) did yield in those many points of Popery. 1. Supremacy. 2. The marriage of some Ministers. 3. The Sacrament in both kinds. 4. Removing Images. 5. Justification. But now for his sharp persecuting, or rather revenging himself on Cranmer and Ridley, that had in King Edward's days deprived him, his too great cruelty cannot be excused.  
Lastly, the plots he laid to entrap the Lady Elizabeth, his terrible hard usage of all her followers, I cannot yet scarce think of with charity, nor write of with patience.  
My father, only for carrying a Letter to the Lady Elizabeth, and professing to wish her well, he kept in the Tower 12 months, and made him spend a thousand pounds ere he could be free of that trouble. My mother, that then served the said Lady Elizabeth, he caused to be sequestered from her as an heretic, insomuch that her own father durst not take her into his house, but she was glad to sojourn with one Mr. Topcliff; so as I may say, in some sort, this Bishop persecuted me before I was born.  
Yet, that I speak not at all in passion, I must confess I have heard some as partially praise his clemency and good conscience, and namely, that he was cause of restoring many honourable houses, overthrown by King Henry the eighth, and in King Edward's minority. The Duke of Norfolk, (though Mr. Fox saith, that Gardiner made him stay long for his dinner one day) yet both he, and those descended of him were beholding to him: with the house of Stanhope's, and the Lord Arundel of Warder; and I have heard old Sir Matthew Arundel say, that Bonner was more faulty than he, and that Gardiner would rate at him for it, and call him ass for using poor men so bloodily; and when I would maintain the contrary, he would say, that my father was worthy to have lain in prison a year longer, for the saucy sonnet he wrote to him from out of the Tower; which sonnet, both because it was written in defence of Queen Elizabeth, and because (if I be not partial, it is no ill Verse, for those unrefined times, and toucheth the matter I enforce) I will here set down; presupposing that in the eleven months before, he had sent him many Letters, and Petitions full of reason, (that could not prevail) for his liberty. The distressed prisoner writeth this rhyme.  

1.  
At least withdraw your cruelty,  
or force the time to work your will;  
It is too much extremity,  
to keep me penned in prison still.  
Free from all fault, void of all cause;  
Without all right, against all laws.  
How can you do more cruel spite,  
Then proffer wrong, and promise right?  
Nor can accuse, nor will acquight.   

2.  
Eleven months past, and longer space,  
I have abide your devilish drifts,  
While you have sought both man and place,  
and set your snares, with all your shifts;  
The fault less foot to wr ap in wile,  
With any guilt, by any guile;  
And now you see that will not be,  
How can you thus for shame agree,  
To keep him bound you can set free?   

3.  
Your chance was once, as mine is now,  
to keep this hold against your will,  
And then you swore you know well how,  
Though now you swearve, I know how ill.  
But thus the world his course doth pass,  
The Priest forgets a clerk he was;  
And you that then cried justice still,  
And now have justice at your will,  
Wrest justice wrong, against all skill.   

4.  
But why do I thus coldly plain,  
as if it were my cause alone?  
When cause doth each man so constrain,  
as England through hath cause to moan,  
To see your bloody search of such,  
Whom all the Earth can no way touch.  
And better were that all your kind,  
Like hounds in hell with shame were shrined  
Than you had might unto your mind.   

5.  
But as the stone that strikes the wall,  
sometimes bounds back on th' hurlers head,  
So your foul fetch, to your foul fall,  
may turn and noy the breast that bred.  
And then such measure as you gave,  
Of right and justice look to have;  
If good or ill, if short or long;  
If false or true, if right or wrong,  
And thus, till than I end my Song.   
But to show a pattern, what partiality can paint in his praise, and what ill will can pervert to reproach, I will add an elegy in English also, written by one Mr. Prideaux, in commendation, and the same answered in execration of the same Bishop.  

1.  
THe Saints in Heaven rejoice, this earth and we may wail;  
Sith they have won, and we have lost the guide of our avail.   

2.  
Though death hath loosed life yet death could not deface  
His worthy work, his stayed state, nor yet his gifts of grace.   

3.  
As Gardner was his name, So Gardned he his life  
With justice, and with mercy both, to 'stroy the weeds of strife.   

4.  
A Steven in Religion stout, a Bishop by his acts,  
A faithful man most free from fraud, as witness be his facts;   

5.  
A Judge most just in judgement seat, of parties no regard;  
An Eye to see, an ear to hear, a hand that shunned reward.   

6.  
A heart to help, and not to harm; his will was wisdom's law,  
A mind that malice could not move, such was of God his awe.   

7.  
A faith in friendship firm and fast, a mount the right to raise.  
A spirit' not palled with slanderous bruits nor puffed with pride by praise.   

8.  
Not light of credit to reports, revenge he never sought,  
But would forgive, and did forget the wrongs that were him wrought.   

9  
A truth, so tried in trust, as tongue could never taint.  
Nor erst was heard in guileful wise, a lie with lips to paint.   

10.  
Though nature's child by birth, yet virtue's heir by right,  
Which held his height so madestly, as measure Mastered might.   

11.  
Ambition's climbing cliff could never move his mind,  
Nor fortune with her fawning cheer, his heart did ever blind.   

12.  
Nor Misery which most he felt, or prison might him pall,  
But bare his mind in level so, as change could be no fall.   

13.  
In all these turns of joy and woe, he turned to the best;  
And held him to the tried truth, which now hath won him rest.   

14.  
From foes deface, and envies bell, his end hath made him free,  
And plucked him from this wicked world, too worthy here to be.   

15.  
Who can give tears enough to plaino the loss and lack we have;  
So rare a man, so soon bereft, when most we did him crave.   

16.  
When age and years had made him ripe, and surely had him set,  
To know himself and wield the world and right with mercy met.   

17.  
And when of envy, and of hate, the conquest he had won,  
And falsehood forced to fly his fort, and right his race to run.   

18.  
And when of glory and of grace, he won the palm and price,  
And conquered all affections force, with wisdoms good advice.   

19  
And in the office that he bare. and service of his Queen,  
So choice a man to serve her call, scarce anywhere was seen.   

20.  
Then death, that fatal fce, the line of life did lose,  
And in the belly of the earth as earth she did him close.   

21.  
The Prince may plain his death, the Realm his lack may rue;  
All men may say, O Winchester, most worthy wight adieu.   

22.  
The poor may plain and pine, whose lacks he did relieve;  
His Servants may lament their Lord which Lordly did them give.   

23.  
The Bishops may behold a Bishop than berest,  
A perfect Priest, a shield of faith, a mirror of them left   

24.  
His foes if any were, that first did wish him gone  
In length of time and lack of life too late his loss will moan.   

25.  
O Pastor past this pilgrim's pain in earth thine Acts do live,  
In skies thy virtues written are, all pens thee praise shall give.   

26.  
Which after all these heaps of kap a happy life hast led,  
And in the happiest hap of all in fame and love art dead.   
The same answered verse for verse by an Ill-willer of the said Bishop.  

1.  
THe Devils in Hell do dance, this Realm and we may joy  
Since they have got and we foregone the cause of our Annoy.   

2.  
Though death hath wiped out life, yet death cannot outrace  
His wicked works usurped state nor faults of his deface.   

3.  
A Gardner such he was, as spoiled so our plants,  
That Justice withered, mercy died and we wrong by their wants.   

4.  
A Steu'n in name, a Fox in fact, a Bishop but in Weeds,  
A faithless man full fraught with frauds as deem him by his deeds.   

5.  
A partial Judge in Judgement seat, of parties great respect,  
A blinded eye, a closed ear, a hand with bribe infect   

6.  
A heart to harm and not to help his lust was laid far low,  
A mind with malice overwhelmed of God nor man no awe.   

7.  
A feigned fickle friend and false that right could never bid,  
A courage every storm cast down and praise puffed up with pride.   

8.  
Of foul reports and slanderous bruts he nourished up the brood;  
His wrongs to pardon or to pass revenge and rage withstood   

9  
A tried untruth in trust, As tongues well tried have told,  
A mouth that breathed more odious lies than It' upbraid am bold.   

10.  
Scant nature's Child by birth sure Satan's son in right  
Which rule maintained with sword & fire, and measured all by might.   

11.  
Ambitious climbing cliff had ravished so his mind,  
As he was sotted drunk therein, and fortune made him blind.   

12.  
The smell of prison's misery felt his pride did greatly pall  
He bare his staff so staggeringly, as each change seemed a fall.   

13.  
In all these turns of joy and woe he turned with the best,  
And never left the surer side till breath did leave his breast.   

14.  
From Widow course and Orphans cry his end him cannot save,  
Though that have rid kim of his reign unworthy rule to have.   

15.  
Who can give thanks and joy enough that we have scaped this sire,  
This monstrous man this bloody beast, when most we did desire.   

16.  
When years had framed him fit for Hell and pride so high had set,  
As God nor man nor self he knew and might with mischiefmet.   

17.  
And when the envy and the hate he won of every wight,  
And falsehood flourished in his Fort, and wrong had wrong outright;   

18.  
And when he gloried most in pomp, in honour and in health,  
And by affection conquered all, and wallowed all in wealth;   

19  
And in the Office that he bare to rule above the Queen,  
So cruel and so merciless, scarce ever man was seen;   

20.  
Then God that most just Judge life's line to part was pleased,  
The Earth his Carrion corpse hath caught▪ the Devil his soulhath seized   

21.  
The Prince his death may please, this Realm his life doth rue,  
All men may well his birthday, ban this cursed wretch that knew.   

22.  
The poor may plain and pine; for none be would relieve,  
His men may joy his death was such his Goods were his to give.   

23.  
Good Bishops may beware this Ravener them bereft,  
This popish-priest this shield of wrong, a warning for them left.   

24.  
His friends if any were, that wished him longer ruigne  
With length of time might cause have caught too late his rule to plain   

25.  
O thou devourer of the good thy wrongs in earth do dwell,  
Thy cruel thirst of guiltless blood now must thou quench in hell.   

26.  
Which in the world of deadly hurts most burtfull life didst lead,  
And now with England's common jay in shame and hate art dead.   
Which of these wrote truest I will not take upon me to judge, left I should be thought partial; but that saying appears true: Scribit in Marmore laesus. Therefore I will conclude against all partial Poets, with two verses of  Horace, 
Falsus honor juvat et mendax infamia terret  
Quem? nisi mendosum & mendacem.   

Doctor John White.  
He was born of a worshipful house, and in the diocese of Winchester, and became after Warden of Winchester, thence for his great learning, and virtuous life preferred to the bishopric of Lincoln, and after upon the death of Stephen Gardner, made Bishop of Winchester; wherefore of him I may say, his fame did well answer his name, and so would all men say (how contrary soever to him in Religion, but for one black Sermon that he made; yet for the colour is may be said he kept decorum, because that was a funeral Sermon of a great Queen both by birth and marriage, I mean Q. Mary. But the offence taken against him was this. His Text was out of Eccles. 4. 2. Laudavi mortuos magis quam viventes, & faliciorem utroque judicavi qui nec dum natus est. And speaking of Queen Mary her high Parentage, Her bountiful disposition, Her great gravity, Her rare devotion, (praying so much as he affirmed that her knees were hard with kneeling, Her Justice and Clemency in restoring Noble Houses to her own private loss and hindrance. And lastly her grievous yet patient death: He fell into such an unfeigned weeping, that for a long space he could not speak. Then recovering himself, he said she had left a Sister to succeed her, a Lady of great worth also whom they were now bound to obey; for saith he melior est Canis vivus Leone mortuo, & I hope so shall reign well and prosperously over us, but I must say still with my Text, Laudavi mortuos magis quam viventes; for certain that is, Maria optimam partem elegit: thus he, at which Queen Elizabeth taking just indignation, put him in prison, yet would proceed no further than to his deprivation, though some would have made that a more heinous matter. He was a man of austere life, and much more mortified to the World, than his Predecessor Gardiner, who was noted for ambitious, but yet to his Prince very obsequious. But if Doctor White had had a true prophetical spirit, he might have urged the second part of his Text. Sed faeliciorem utroque judicavi qui nec dum natus et; for that may seem verified indeed in the King's Majesty that now is, who was then unborn, and hath since so happily united these Kingdoms; yet lest that which I would make in him a Prophecy, others will take in me for flattery; I will proceed to the next, or rather I should say to another, for of the two next I need add nothing, my author having testified by both their Epitaphs, that they lived and died well.   

Doctor Thomas Cooper.  
I intend therefore to speak next of Dr. Cooper, because of Bishop Herne, and Bishop Watson, I cannot add any thing upon sure ground, for of the former times, I have either Books of stories, or relation of my Fathers that lived in those days; but or these that lived in the first twenty years of the Queen's reign when I was at school, or at the University, I could hear little, yet at my first coming to the Court, I heard this pretty tale, that a Bishop of Winchester one day in pleasant talk, comparing his Revenue with the Archbishops of Canterbury, should say, your Graces will show better in the Rack, but mine will be found more in the Manger, upon which a Courtier of good place said, it might be so in diebus illis; But saith he, the Rack stands so high in sight, that it is fit to keep it full, but that may be, since that time, some have with a provideatur swept some provender out of the Manger: and because this Metaphor comes from the Stable, I suspect it was meant by the Mr. of the Horse. To come then to Bishop Cooper, of him I can say much, and I should do him great wrong, if I should say nothing; for he was indeed a reverent man, very well learned, exceeding industrious, and which was in those days counted a great praise to him, and a chief cause of his preferment, he wrote that great Dictionary that yet bears his name, his Life in Oxford was very commendable, and in some sort saintlike; for if it be saintlike to live unreprovable, to bear a cross patiently, to forgive great injuries freely: this man's example is sampleless in this age.  
He married a Wife in Oxford, for that special just cause (I had almost said only cause) why Clergymen should marry, viz. for avoiding of sin. Melius est enim nubere quam uri, yet was that his very hard hap that she proved too light for his gravity by many grains, or rather many pounds. At the first he winked at that with a socratical and philosophical patience, taking, or rather mistaking the equivocating counsel of Erasmus echo. Quid si mihi veniat usu quod his qui incidunt in uxores parum pudicas parumque frugiferas? Feras. At qui cum talibus morte durior est vita? vita; wherein I observe in the two echoes, how in the first Feras signifies either the verb, suffer, or that noun, wild beasts, or shrews. In the latter, vita signifieth the noun life, or the verb shun or eschew: so he (good man) construed Feras, Vita. suffer during life, and I should take that vita Feras shun shrews. But this Fera whom his Feras made Feram, committed wickedness even with greediness, more than was in power of flesh and blood to bear: wherewith being much afflicted, having warned his Brother privately, and born with him perhaps 70. times seven times. In the end taking him both in a place and fashion (not fit to be named) that would have angered a Saint, he drove him thence, (not much unlike) as Tobias drove away the spirit Asmo●eus, for that was done with a roast, and this with a spit. It was high time now to follow the Counsel. Dic Ecclesiae, so (as all Oxford knows) her Paramor was bound from her in a bond of one hundred pound, but they should rather have been bolts of an hundred pound.  
The whole University in reverence of the man and indignity of the matter, offered him to separate his wife from him by public authority, and so to set him free, being the innocent party. But he would by no means agree thereto, alleging he knew his own infirmity, that he might not live unmarried; and to divorce and marry again, he would not charge his conscience with so great a scandal.  
After he was Bishop, mad Martin, or Marprelate wrote his book or rather libel, which some (playing with Martin at his own weapon) answered pleasantly both in rhyme and Prose, as perhaps your highness hath seen, or I wish you should see, for they are short and sharp. But this Bishop with authority and gravity confuted him soundly; whereupon Martin Madcap, (for I think his cap and head had like proportion of wit) replying, and anabaptized his bastard book by the name of Work for the Cooper; and had not the wisdom of the State prevented him, I think he and his favourers would have made work for the Tinker.  
And so much of Bishop Cooper, though I could add a report, that a great Lord dying in his time bequeathed him a great Legacy, but because I have not seen his last testament, I cannot precisely affirm it.   

William Wickham.  
This Bishop my author professeth to reverence for his name's sake, and his predecessors sake; and I much more for his own sake, and his virtue's sake. About the year 1570. he was Vice-provost of Eton, and as the manner was, in the Schoolmasters absence would teach the school himself, and direct the boys for their exercises (of which myself was one) of whom he showed as fatherly a care, as if he had been a second Tutor to me. He was reputed there a very mild and good natured man, and esteemed a very good Preacher, and free from that which St. Paul calleth Idolatry, I mean covetousness; so that one may say probably, that as the first William Wickham was one of the richest Prelates that had been in Winchester a long time, and bestowed it well; so this was one of the poorest, and endured it well. He preached before the Queen at a Parliament, I think the last time that ever he preached before her; and indeed it was Cygnea vox, sweetest, being nearest his end, which if I could set down as he delivered, were well worth the remembering. But the effect was this, that the Temporalities of bishoprics, and Lands of colleges, and such like, were from the beginning for the most part the graces, gifts, and alms of Princes, her majesty's progenitors, that for some excesses and abuses of some of them, they had been and lawfully might be some quite taken away, some altered, some diminished, and that accordingly they were now reduced to a good mediocrity; for though there were some far greater bishoprics in France, Spain, and Germany●, yet there were some also less and meaner even in Italy. But yet he most humbly besought her Majesty to make stay of them at least in this mediocrity; for if they should decay so fast in thirty years to come, as they had for thirty years past, there would hardly be a cathedral Church found in good repair within England; which inconvenience (he said) would soon spread from the Clergy to the Temporalty, that would have cause with Hippocrates Twins to laugh and weep together. This, as he spoke zealously, so the Queen gave ear to it graciously, and some good effect was supposed to follow it, for which they both now feel their reward;  
and thus much of Wickham.   

William Day.  
It was said that a pleasant Courtier and Servitor of King Henry the eighth, to whom the King had promised some good turn, came and prayed the King to bestow a Living on him, that he had found out, worth 100 li. by the year more than enough; why, saith the King, we have none such in England: yes Sir, said his man, the Provostship of Eton; for (said he) he is allowed his diet, his lodging, his horse-meat, his servants wages, his riding charge, his apparel, even to the points of his hose, at the college charge; and 100 li. per annum besides. How true this is, I know not, but this I know, that Mr. Day having both this and the deanery of Windsor was persuaded to leave them both, to succeed him (that had been once his Vice-provost of Eton) in the Church of Winchester. He was a man of a good nature, affable and courteous, and at his table, and in other conversation pleasant, yet always sufficiently containing his gravity. When he was first Dean of Windsor, there was a singing man in the choir, one Woolner, a pleasant fellow, but famous for his eating, rather than his singing; and for the swallow of his throat, then for the sweetness of his note. Master Deane sent a man to him to reprove him for not singing with his fellows; the Messenger thought all were worshipful at least that did then wear white Surplices, and told him Mr. Deance would pray his worship to sing; thank Mr. Dean (quoth Woolner) and tell him, 1 am as merry as they that sing; which answer, though it would have offended some man, yet hearing him to be such as I have described, he was soon pacified. He broke his leg with a fall from a horse, that started under him; whereupon some waggish scholars, of which myself was in the quorum, would say it was a just punishment, because the horse was given him by a Gentleman to place his son in Eton, which at that time was thought had been a kind of sacrilege, but I may also say, Cum eram parvulus sapiebam ut parvulus. He had in those days a good and familiar fashion of preaching not mincing the word, as some do, with three words to feed 3000 people, that go away all sometimes as empty as they came; nor as others, that are Nodosi drawing their auditory with them into deep questions and dangerous passages; that howsoever they suppose they come of themselves much admired, they leave their auditors many times more than half mired; but this was a good plain fashion, apt to edify, and easy to remember; I will repeat one lesson of many, that I remember out of Sermons of his, which I can imagine yet I hear him pronouncing, and it was concerning prayer: It is not (saith he) a praying to God, but a tempting of God, to beg his blessings, without doing also our own endeavours; shall a scholar pray to God to make him learned, and never go to his book? shall a husbandman pray for a good harvest, and let his Plow stand still: the Pagans, and the heathen people would laugh at such devotion. In their fabulous Legion they have a tale of Hercules, whom for his strength they counted a God; how a Carter (forsooth had overthrown his Cart, and sat in the way crying, help Hercules, help Hercules; at last Hercules, or one in his likeness came to him, and swaddled him thriftily with a good cudgel, and said, thou varay lazy selly fellow (so he used to pronounce) callest thou to me for help & dost nothing they self; arise, set to thy shoulder & heave thy part, and then pray to me to help thee, and I will do the rest. And thus much of our good old Provost, who being made a Bishop, & of a Register of the Garter becoming now Prelate of the Garter, enjoying this dignity a very short time, turned his day into night, though no night can oppress them that die in the Lord. By the way, I think this worthy the noting, that whereas in Anno Dom. 1486. being the first of King Henry the seventh, it was found that three Bishops successively had held this bishopric six score years save one, namely, Wickham, Beauford, and Wainfleet. Now in Queen Elizabeth's reign, there had been seven Bishops in forty years, five in seventeen years, and three in four years.   

Doctor Thomas Bilson.  
My Author, following his own resolution of forbearing to speak of men now living, or but lately dead; and I holding my purpose to speak frankly and truly, as far as my understanding will serve me, both of dead and living; I am now coming to speak of the present Bishop of W, of whom I find in this book but four lines; and if I should give him his due in proportion to the rest, I should spend four leaves. Not that I need make him better known to your highness, being (as on just occasion, as I noted before) one of the most eminent of his rank, and a man that carried prelature in his very aspect. His rising was merely by his learning, as true Prelates should rise. Sint non modo labe mali sed suspicione errantis, not only free from the spot, but from the speech of corruption. He ascended by all degrees of schools; first, wherein to win knowledge himself, next whereby to impart it to others, having sometime taught the school that doth justly boast of the name of Winchester, where, if I mistake not, he succeeded the excellent scholar and schoolmaster Doctor Johnson, that wrote that forecited Poem of Wickham; and having praised all his predecessors in pretty distichs, he wrote this at the last in modesty of himself.  
Ultimus hic ego sum, sed quam bene quam male nolo  
Dicere, de me qui judicet alter erit.  
And accordingly his successor gave this judgement,  
Ultimus es ratione loci, re primus Johnson,  
Sed quis qui de te judicet aptus erit.  
Tam bene quam nullus qui te praecesserit ante  
Tam male posteritas ut tua pejus agate.  
Wherein Mr. Johnson became truly fortunate, according to the saying, Laudari a laudato viro, laus est maxima. Him fame doth raise, whose praiser merits praise.  
From Schoolmaster of Winchester, he became Warden, and having been infinitely studious and industrious in Poetry, in Philosophy, in physic; and lastly, (which his genius chiefly called him to) in Divinity, he became so complete, for skill in Languages, for readiness in the Fathers, for judgement to make use of his readings, as he was found to be no longer a soldier, but a Commander in chief, in our spiritual warfare, being first made Bishop of Worcester, and after of Winchester. In the mean season a crew of mutinous soldiers (a forlorn hope) untertook to surprise one of the twelve fortresses of our faith, I mean one of twelve Articles of the Creed, and ere men were aware they had entered by a Postern corrupted, a Watchman or two thrown down a battlement and set up their Colours of white and black (black and blue had been fitter for them) publishing a book in print, that Christ descended not into Hell. The alarum was taken by many faithful servitors of the Militant Church, but many were not found fit for this enterprise, for that was whispered, (nay rather published in the enemy's Camp, that some cowardly soldiers of our side had made a motion to have this Fort, or part thereof rased, because there was thought to be peril in defending of it; for so Campian writes confidently, that Cheyney Bishop of Gloucester had affirmed to him, how it had been moved in a Convocation at London, Quemadmodum sine tumultu penitus eximatur de symbolo; how without many words it might be taken out of the Creed wholly. But I leave Erasmus echo to answer it, oly. True it is, there was a hot shot one Mr. Browghton, no Cannonere, for he loves no Cannons, but that could skill of such fireworks, as might seem to put out hell fire; this hot brain having with a Petard or two broken open some old door, took upou him with like Powder out of some Basilisk (as I think) to shoot Hades quite beyond sun and Moon; such a Powder-work against all Divinity and Philosophy, as was never heard of, always excepting the powder-treason. Then this learned Bishop, like a worthy leader (that I proceed in this metaphor) with a resolute Troop, not of loose shot, but gravis armaturae, armed to proof out of Christ's armoury, the old and new Testament, Fathers, Doctors, Schoolmen, Linguists, encounters these Lanzbezzadoes, casts down their Colours, repairs up the reins, beautifies the battlements, rams up the mines, and makes such ravelings, and counter-searfes about this Fort, that now none of the Twelve may seem more impregnable. Their great Inginere, before mentioned, upon grief of this repulse, is gone (as I hear) to teach the Jews Hebrew; God send him to scape Hades at the end of his journey. Yet in the heat of these skirmishes there happened an accident worthy to be remembered, and I think by the very device of the devil. This Bishop preaching at Paul's cross, upon this Article of the Creed; and there proving by authority irrefragable, that hell is a place prepared for the devil and his angels; that it is beneath in corde terrae, and that Christ descended into it. Satan, that knew all this to be true, and was sorry to remember it, and wished that none of the Auditors would believe it, raised a sudden and causeless fear, by the fraud or folly of some one auditor. This fear so incredibly possessed not only the whole multitude, but the Lord Major and other Lords there, that they verily believed Paul's Church was at that instant falling down, whereby such a tumult was raised, as not only disturbed their devotion and attention, but did indeed put some of the gravest, wisest and noblest of that assembly into evident hazard of their lives, as I have heard of some of their own mouths. The Bishop not so dismayed himself, sympathising in pity, rather than fear of their causeless dismay, after the tumult was a little pacified, finished his Sermon; upon which accident, some favourers of that opinion make themselves merry with this story, that at least that which they could not confute they might seem to contemn.    

Of EELY.  

Doctor Martin Heaton.  
OF Eely I have not much to say, yet in a little I may be thought by some to say too much; which I will adventure, rather than your highness shall blame me for saying nothing. I was among others at Bishop Cox his funeral, being then either bachelor, or a very young Master of Arts; but some years after we thought it would have proved the funeral of the bishopric, as well as of the Bishop. Something there was that had distasted the Queen concerning Bishop Cox, in his life time; either his much retiredness, or small hospitality, or the spoil he was said to make of woods and Parks, feeding his family with powdered venison; all which, I know not how truly, was suggested to her against him, in his life time, and remembered after his death. For our opinion of him in Cambridge, we held him a good scholar, and a better Poet than Doctor Haddon, who called him Master; whether as having been his scholar or servaned I know not; but among his Poems, is extant a distich written to B. Cox.  
Vix Caput attollens e lecto scribere carmen.  
Qui velit is voluit, scribere plura, vale.  
which Verse being but even a sick Verse, he answered ex tempore, as they tell, with this,  
Te magis optarem salvum sine carmine fili,  
Quam sine te salvo carmina multa. Vale.  
As for his Church of Eely, it seemed he had no great love there, to have his monument defaced within twenty years (as this author writes) so as remembering his good beginning, one may say of him, coepisti melius quam desinis.  
But to let him rest, I must confess that it was held for one of the blemishes of Queen Elizabeth's Virgin reign. First, to keep this Sea of Eely vacant so long after Bishop Coxes death, and after to take away so large a portion from it, as is generally spoken; yet that I may both speak my conscience, and show my charity as well to my deceased sovereign, as to the reverend Bishop yet living, I will say this: First, I could wish it had not been so, and that the occasion of such a scandal between the Crown and mitre had been taken away. Secondly, I do say for the Queen, she did no new thing; and it is held a principle of State, that whatsoever there is a precedent for, is lawful for a Prince. I consider further, that Eely was a bishopric of none of the first erections, but many years after the conquest; so as England stood christened without a bishopric of Eely from Augustine the Monk above five hundred years. It was a place also that the Crown had been jealous of for the strength of it, having sometime held out the conqueror, as our writers affirm; and King Henry the third, a wise and fortunate Prince, said, it was not fit for a cloister man, and of late years Mooreton undertook to hold it against Richard the third, for Henry the second. Add hereunto, that though it was vacant in name, yet the profits thereof may seem to have been perhaps more charitably and honourably employed then before, to relieve the poor distressed King of Portugal, who was called by some scholar's Bishop of Eely, which is less scandalous than for Jeffrey Plant agenet to hold the bishopric of Lincoln for seven years, without consecration, the Sea being kept void seventeen years; and for Ethelmare to hold Winchester in like manner nine years in Henry the thirds time; to omit how Stygand in the conquerors time, and Woolsey in Henry the eighth his time, both held Winchester in commendam. As for changing or abating the possessions of it, the laws then in force allowed it (though a most godly law since restrained the like) and I would all the bishoprics in England were but so well left. Now to come to Doctor Heaton, he was compelled in a sort so to take it (for potentes cum rogant jubent) and as long as there was not quid dabis, but haec auferam, the more public it was, and by authority then lawful he may be thought the more free from blame. But were Eely as good as ever it was, that could not find the mouth●s bread that find fault with his taking it in that order.  
Before his majesty's coming to Oxford, I was in Oxford Library, and some of good quality of both the Universities; and one of their chief Doctors said merrily to a Cambridge man, that Oxford had formerly had a good Library, till such time (said he) as a Cambridge man became our chancellor, and so canceled or cataloged and scattered our Books (he meant Bishop Cox in King Edward's time) as from that time to this we could never recover them. The other straight replied, then are you even with us, for one of your Oxford men hath sealed so many good deeds of our good bishopric in Cambridgeshire, that till they be canecled, it will never be so good as it should be. By his christen name also many take occasion to allude to this matter, which whether for brevity sake he writ Mar or Mart, or at full length Martin, always by adding Eely unto it, it sounds to the like sense, that either he did Marr it, or mars it, or Martin it. But he is too wise to be troubled with these.  
Sapientis est nil praestare praeter culpam. If any fare the worse for this now, it is himself. And as for his learning, and other good parts belonging to a Bishop, he is inferrour to few of his rank, as your highness can tell, that have heard him preach before the King's Majesty, who said of him, that fat men were wont to make lean Sermons; but his were not lean, but larded with much good learning.  
And so much of the bishopric and Bishop of Eely.    

Of LINCOLN.  

Of Doctor Chaterton now living.  
Following my author's method, I am next to speak of Lincoln, a very large diocese, yet not so great a bishopric as it hath been, which I suspect by the oft removes from it, as Bullingham, Cooper and Wickham in Queen Elizabeth's time; and White in Queen Mary's time. I'note also, that one of these removed to Worcester, namely Bullingham; of which I can imagine no reason, except the largeness: of the diocese make it more painful, as indeed it would, if the decree made in a Synod held by Saint Cuthbert in England were duly observed. Of which the third, as Mr. Fox hath it is, that every Bishop once every year should go over all the parishes of his diocese; with which Decree by what authority men dispense, I know not, but sure few do keep it.  
This Doctor William Chaterton, now Bishop of Lincoln, and before of Chester, I may remember in Cambridge a learned and grave Doctor; though for his gravity he could lay it aside when pleased him, even in the Pulpit, it will not be forgotten in Cambridge while he is remembered, how preaching one day, in his younger years, a wedding Sermon (which indeed should be festival) as the merchant royal was at my Lord Hays marriage (with which being now in print many a good husband doth endeavour to edify his wife.) I say, Mr. Chatterton is reported to have made this pretty comparison, and to have given this friendly caveat: That the choice of a wife was full of hazard, not unlike as if one in a barrel full of Serpents should grope for one Fish; if (saith he) he scape harm of the snakes, and light on a fish, he may be thought fortunate, yet let him not boast, for perhaps it may be but an eel, &c. Howbeit he married afterwards himself, and I doubt not sped better than his comparison. He was well beloved among the scholars, and the rather for that he did not affect any sour and austere fafhion, either in teaching or government, as some use to do; but well tempered both with courage and courtesy. Being made Bishop of Chester, he was a very great friend to the house of Darby. Preaching the funeral Sermon of Henry Earl of Darby, for some passages whereof he was like to be called in question, though perhaps himself knew not so much; I was present when one told a great Lord that loved not Ferdinando the last Earl, how this Bishop having first magnified the dead Earl for his fidelity, justice, wisdom, and such virtues, as made him the best beloved man of his rank (which praise was not altogether undeserved) he after used this Apostrophe to the Earl present; And you (saith he) noble Earl, that not only inherit, but exceed your father's virtues, learn to keep the love of your country, as your father did; you give, saith he, in your Arms, Three Legs; know you what they signify? I tell you, they signify three shires, Cheshire, Darbishire, and Lancashire; stand you fast on these three legs, and you shall need fear none of their arms. At which this Earl a little moved, said in some heat, not without an oath: This Priest, I believe, hopes one day to make him three curtsies. But the two Earls I trust are friends now, both being since departed this world, (though neither as I could wish them) the one dying of a Yex, the other of an Axe. The Bishop was removed to Lincoln, where he now remains in very good state, having one only daughter married to a Knight of good worship, though now they living asunder, he may be thought to have had no great comfort of that matrimony, yet to her daughter he means to leave a great patrimony; so as one might not unfitly apply that Epigram written of Pope Paulus and his daughter to this Bishop and his grandchild.  
Cum sit filia Paul, cum tibi aurum,  
Quantum Pontifices habere raros.  
Vidit Roma prius patrem non possum,  
Sanctum discere id sed possum beatum.  
Which I thus translated, when I thought not thus to apply it.  
Thou hast a daughter Paulus, I am told,  
and for this daughter store thou hast of gold.  
The daughter thou didst get, the gold didst gather  
make thee no holy, but a happy father.  
But if the Bishop should fortune to hear that I apply this verse so saucily, and should be offended with it, I would be glad in full satisfaction of this wrong, to give him my son for his daughter, which is a manifest token that I am in perfect charity with him.    

Of COVENTRY, and LICHFIELD.  

Doctor William Overton, now living.  
OF this bishopric may be observed, that which happened (I think) to no other in all Queen Elizabeth's reign, that from the first year of her entrance (what time she made them all new) she never after gave this bishopric, but once, and that was to Doctor William Overton, the one and twentieth year of her reign, he being then of good years; so as one may probably conjecture, that he honoured his parents well, because he had the blessing promised to such, viz. that his days have been long in the Land. I can make no special relation concerning him, but the general speech as I have heard travelling through the country, which is not to be contemned; for, Vox populi, vox dei est. Two special things are commended in him, which very few few Bishops are praised for in this age: One, that he keepeth good hospitality for the poor; the other, that he keepeth his house in good reparation. Both which I have seldom heard a married Bishop commended for; and I will be bold to add this further, that if they would do both those, I think no man would take exceptions either for their marriage or bigamy. The Churches also are very well kept; and for those of Coventry, they are (of Parish Churches) the fairest I have seen, though (as I partly noted before) they have had sometimes another kind of superintendency, for the Bishops keep most at Lichfield.  
The pavement of Coventry Church is almost all Tombstones, and some very ancient; but there came in a zealous fellow with a counterfeit commission, that for avoiding of superstition, hath not left one pennyworth, nor one pennybredth of brass upon the tombs, of all the inscriptions, which had been many, and costly.  
Further I note this, that whereas in Bishop Langtons' time there were many Parks belonging to the Sea, in which the Prince committed some disorder in the time of Edward the first, now it is much altered, for he hath not past one, the rest being perhaps turned to pastures, and the dear into tamer beasts.    

Of SALISBURY.  

Bishop jewel.  
OF how great antiquity this bishopric had been in former times, two things do especially declare. One, that ever since the conquest Ordinale secundum usum Sarum was received over all England; another, that the Clergy of Salisbury were able of their own charge to erect such a goodly Church, and stonesteeple, as that is which now stands, which at this day a subsidy were scarce able to perform.  
To omit how Sherborn Castle, and the Devizes were both built by one Bishop of Salisbury, and in this State that continued till the year 1539. what time Doctor Capon was translated from Bangor thither, a man for learning and wit worthy to be of Apollo's crew; but for his spoil and havoc he is said to have made of the churchland, more worthy to be of Apollions crew, for he is noted to be one of the first that made a Capon of his bishopric, and so gelded it, that it will never be able to build either Church or Castle again. The place being in this sort much impoverished, Bishop Jewel was preferred unto it the first year of Queen Elizabeth, a Jewel indeed, as in name, Re gemma fuit, nomine gemma fuit. He, though he could not maintain the Port his predecessors did, finding his houses decayed, and Lands all leased out, yet kept very good hospitality, and gave himself withal much to writing books, of which divers are extant, and in many men's hands, viz. His Apology of the Church of England; His challenge, answered by Harding; His Reply to the said Answer; all in English, and all in such estimation, even until this day, that as St. Ofmond in William the conquerors time, gave the pattern for form of service to all the Churches of England, so Mr. Jewels writings are a kind of rule to all the reformed Churches of England, and hardly is there any controversy of importance handled at this day, of which in his works is not to be found some learned and probable Resolution. One thing I will specially commend him for, though I shall not be commended for it myself of some, and that is, whereas he defended the marriage of Priests, no man better; yet he would never marry himself, saying, Christ did not counsel in vain, Qui potest capere, capiat. He had a very reverent regard of the ancient father's writings, and especially St. Augustine, out of which books he found many authorities against some superstitions crept into the Roman Church. Why he had such a mind to lie by Bishop Wyvill, I cannot guess, except perhaps of his name he had taken a Caurat, to keep himself without a wife. For the whole course of his life from his childhood, of his towardliness from the beginning, and how he was urged to subscribe in Queen Mary's time, and did so, being required to write his name, saying, they should see he could write; (which showed it was not ex animo) Doctor Humphrey hath written a several Treatise.   

Doctor John Coldwell, Doctor of physic.  
Though Doctor Guest succeeded Bishop jewel and my Author makes him a good writer, yet he shall not be my guest in this discourse, having nothing to entertain him with, or rather your highness with in reading of him. But how his successor Doctor Coldwell of a Physician became a Bishop I have heard by more than a good many (as they say) and I will briefly handle it, and as tenderly as I can bearing myself equal between the living and the dead. I touched before how this Church had surfeited of a Capon, which being heavy in her stomach, it may be thought she had some need of a Physician. But this man proved no good Church Physicians; had she been sick of a Plurisey, too much abounding with blood as in ages past, than such bleeding physic perhaps might have done it no harm. Now inclining rather to a consumption to let that bleed afresh at so large a vein, almost was enough to draw out the very life blood (your highness will pardon my physic metaphors, because I have lately looked over my Schola Salerni) I protest I am free from any desire to deface the dead undeservedly, and as far from any fancy to insult on the misfortunes of the Living uncivilly, and in my particular the dead man I speak of never hurt me, and the Living man I shall speak of hath done me some kindness; yet the manifest judgements of God on both of them I may not pass over with silence. And to speak first of the Knight who carried the Spolia opima of this bishopric, having gotten Sherborne Castle, Park and Parsonage, he was in those days in so great favour with the Queen, as I may boldly say, that with less suit than he was fain to make to her ere he could perfect this his purchase, and with less money than he bestowed since in Sherborne in building and buying out Leases and in drawing the River through rocks into his garden he might have very justly and without offence of the Church or State have compassed a much better Purchase.  
Also that I have been truly informed he had a presage before he first attempted it, that did foreshow it would turn to his ruin, and might have kept him from meddling with it (Si mens non laeva fuisset) for as he was riding post between Plymouth and the Court, as many times he did upon no small employments, this Castle being right in the way, he cast such an eye upon it as Ahab did upon Naboth's Vineyard and once above the rest being talking of it, of the commodiousness of the place, of the strength of the seat, and how easily it might be got from the bishopric, suddenly over and over came his horse, that his very face, which was then thought a very good face, ploughed up the earth where he fell. This fall was ominous I make no question, as the like was observed in the Lord Hastings, and before him in others, and himself was apt enough to construe it so; but his brother Adrian would needs have him interpret that not as a Courtier but as a conqueror, that it presaged the quiet possession of it. And accordingly for the present that fell out, he got that with much labour and travel and cost, and envy, and obloquy to him & his heirs Habendu et tenendum but e'er that came fully to gaudendum; see what became of him. In the public joy and jubilee of the whole realm, when favour and peace and pardon was offered even to offenders, he that in wit, in wealth, in courage was inferior to few, fell suddenly I cannot tell how into such a downfall of despair, as his greatest enemy would not have wished him so much harm, as he would have done himself. Can any man be so wilfully blind, as not to see and to say, Digitus Dei est hic, that it is God's doing and his judgement which appears? yet also more plain by the sequel, for by St. Augustine's rule, when adversity breeds amendment, then that is a sign it is of God's sending, who would not have our correction turn to our confusion: so happened it to this Knight being condemned to die, yet God in whose hand is the heart of the King put into his merciful mind against man's expectation to save his life; and since by the suit of his faithful wife both to preserve his estate and to ease his restraint in such sort as many that are at liberty, taste not greater comforts than he doth in prison, being not barred of those companions (I mean books) that he may and perhaps doth take more true comfort of then ever he took of his courtly companions in his chiefest bravery. Neither is he without hope, that upon his true repentance, God may yet further add to incline his Majesty (Ere seven times go over his head) to a full liberty. Now to return to the Bishop that was the second party delinquent in this Petilarceny, or rather plain sacrilege, what was his purpose, to make himself rich by making his Sea poor? Attained he his purpose herein? nothing less: no Bishop of Sarum since the Conquest died so notorious a Beggar as this, his friends glad to bury him suddenly and secretly. Sine Lux, sine Crux, sine Clinco, as the old by word is, being for haste belike clapped into Bishop Wyvills grave, that even at the Resurrection, he may be ready to accuse him and say, I recovered Sherborne from a King, when that had been wrongfully detained two hundred years, and thou didst betray it to a Knight, after that had been quietly possessed other two hundred years. Some might imagine this a presage that Sherborne may one day revert again to the bishopric. But there is a sign in Hydromanti against it. For in digging your grave (notwithstanding all the haste was made) so great a spring broke into that, as filled that all with water, & quite washed away the presage, so as that dead Bishop was drowned before he could be buried, and according to his name laid into a cold well before he was covered with the cold earth.   

Doctor Henry Cotton.  
This bishopric being now reduced to a Mediocrity more worthy of pity then envy, her Majesty (as I have heard) made a special choice of this her Chaplain, being a gentleman of a worshipful house, and her godson when she was Lady Elizabeth, whereupon it is reported that she said, that she had blessed many of her godsons but now this godson should bless her; whether she were the better for his blessing I know not, but I am sure he was the better for hers. The common voice was Sir Waltcr Raleigh got the best blessing of him (though as I said before) I rather count it a curse to have his estate in Sherborn to be confirmed that before was questionable. But it was his wisest way rather then to have a potent enemy and a tedious suit. He married very young; for I was told some years since, he had nineteen children by one woman, which is no ordinary blessing, and most of them sons. A man that had three sons or more among the Ancient Romans enjoyed thereby no small privileges, though the later Romans make it not a merit in a Bishop. His wife's name was Patience, the name of which I have heard in few wives, the quality in none. He hath one son blind (I know not if by birth, or accident) but though his eyes be blind, he hath an understanding so illuminate, as he is like to prove the best scholar of all his brethren. One especial commendation I may not omit, how by this good Bishops means, and by the assistance of the learned Dean of Sarum Doctor Gourden, a seminary called Mr. Carpenter, a good scholar and in degree a bachelor of Divinity, was converted and testified his own conversion publicly in a Sermon upon this Text, Acts 9 18. There fell as it were Scales from his eyes, saying that three Scales hath bleared his sight, viz. Antiquity, Universality, and Consent, but now the Scales being fallen away, he saw plainly, their Antiquity Novelty, their Universality a babylonical Tyranny, and their Consent a Conspiracy. And thus much be said of my god-brother, and (be it said) without presumption your highness' god-brother, Doctor Henry Cotton.    

Of the Bishops of BATH and WELLS,  

and first of Dr. Oliver King.  
Concerning Bath I have such plenty of matter to entertain your highness with (I mean variety of discourse) as I study rather how to abbreviate it, than how to amplify it: I should have begun at Bishop Barlow, but I respect so much the very name of King, as I could not let him pass without some homage; and because the chief Bath of which the town hath the name is called the King's Bath, I shall add somewhat also, either omitted, or but slightly touched in the Precedent book by mine Author, but somewhat more largely handled in the Latin Treatise mentioned by him page 307. in the life of Stillington out of which I will cite a passage or two as occasion shall serve.  
First therefore for the City of Bath, to omit all the Antiquities noted by Mr. Camden and other good Authors, as also seen by myself, I observe this, that amongst all our old Traditions and Legends thereof, that seemeth as it were purposely left in suspense and not yet fully determined, whether the crown or the mitre have more claim to the virtue that all men see and say to be in these waters. Some affirm that King Bladud a learned King, brought up at Athens long before Christ's time, either by his cunning in magic did frame it; or rather by his search did find it, or at least with his cost did first found it: others believe that King Arthurs Uncle St. David a Bishop of Wales, that lived longer with leeks than we do now with larks and quails, by his Prayer procured this virtue to these Springs, but this is manifest by most credible Histories, that Offa King of Mercia built a goodly abbey there, where before had been a Temple of Minerva and Hercules, whom they feigned to be precedents of hot baths. This Monastery built by Offa 775 was destroyed by the Danes being then no Christians about the year 900. Then it was re-edified by Elphegus a Bishop of Canterbury 1010. and continued in great estimation for a place of holy and strict life, but had not yet the Title of a bishopric, till John de Villula, a French man borne and a Physician by profession, being made Bishop of Wells, which was in Latin de Fontibus, admiring the virtue of these baths and the Cures they wrought, for which it had been long before by the Saxons surnamed Akmanchester, that is sick man's town. This John de Villula thinking this place de Fontibus, more honourable than the other called Wells, bought this City of K. William Rufus and translated his seat thither. And finding that both that town and Abbey had been late before defaced with fire, he new built both about the year 1122 and was the first Bishop was buried there.  
Then was that again burned in the year 1132 and repaired again by Bishop Robert, and remained still the Bishop's seat and inheritance, till that bankrupt B●shop Savaricus for covetousness of Glastenbury, In mercedem bujus unionis (to use my author's word) for recompense of this Union of Glatenbury to Wells, gave Bath again to King Richard the First, and yet notwithstanding these two so huge Revenues, he spent so prodigally and unprovidently in his many journeys to the Emperor, that it is written he had a Legion of creditors, and for his wandering humours he had this written for an Epitaph, though not set on his tomb at Bath.  
Hospes eras Mundo, per Mundum semper eund●  
Sic suprema die, fit tibi prima quies.  
Thus Bath again after 100 years, became the Kings, and ever may it be so. But the Church was not so sufficiently repaired as it ought in so much that in Henry the seventh's time it was ready to fall, what time that Oliver King about 100 years since built it again with so goodly a fabric as the stone work stands yet so firm, notwithstanding the injuries of men time and tempests upon it. Here I may by no means omit, yet I can scarce tell how to relate the pretty Tales that are told of this Bishop King, by what visions, predictions he was encouraged and discouraged in the building of this Church, whether some cunning woman had foretold him of the spoil that followed, as Paulus Jovius writes how a witch deceived his next successor Hadrian Bishop of Bath, or whether his own mind running of it gave him occasion to dream sleeping of that he thought waking, but this goes so currant and confirmed with pretty probabilities. That lying at Bath and musing or meditating one night late after his devotions and prayers for the prosperity of Henry the seventh and his children (who were then all or most part living) to which King he was principal Secretary and by him preferred to this bishopric; He saw, or supposed he saw a vision of the holy Trinity with Angels-ascending and descending by a ladder, near to the which there was a fair Olive Tree supporting a crown, and a voice said, Let an Olive establish the crown, and let a King restore the Church. Of this dream or vision he took exceeding great comfort and told it divers of his friends, applying it to the King his master in part, and some part to himself. To his Mr. because the Olive, being the Emblem or hieroglyphic of peace & plenty, seemed to him to allude to King Henry the seventh, who was worthily counted the wisest and most peaceable King in all Europe of that age. To himself (For the wisest will flatter themselves sometimes) because he was not only a thief councillor to this King, and had been his ambassador to conclude a most honourable peace with Charles the eight, who paid (as Hollinshed writeth) 745. Ducats, besides a yearly tribute of 25000 crowns, but also he carried both the Olive and King in his name; and therefore thought he was specially designed for this Church work, to the advancement of which he had an extraordinary inclination. Thus though (as St. Thomas of Aquin well noteth) all dreams be they never so sensible will be found to halt in some part of their coherence; and so perhaps may this: yet most certain it is, for the time he was so transported with this dream, that he presently set in hand with this Church (the ruins whereof I rue to behold even in writing these Lines) and at the west end thereof he caused a representation to be graved of this Vision of the Trinity, the Angels and the Ladder, and on the North side the Olive and crown with certain French words (which I could not read) but in English is this verse taken out of the book of Judges chap. 9  
Trees going to choose their King,  
Said be to us the Olive King.  
All which is so curiously cut and carved, as in the West part of England Is no better work then in the West end of this poor Church, and to make the credit of all this more authentic, he added this word to it, De sursum est, it is from high. Thus much the stones and walls (though dumb witnesses yet credible) do plainly testify. But in midst of all this Jollity having made so fair a beginning to his own great content, and no less to the Kings, who came into this country at that time, and lay at the Dean of Wells his house nine days; I say in all this joy and comfort, that happened the Kings Primogenitus, the Noble Prince Arthur, having lately before married a great Infanta of Spain to depart this life. This so daunted the heart and hopes of this good Bishop, that he doubted now his Vision would prove but an illusion, that his Oliva would be but an Oleaster, which melancholy thoughts were increased in him by the predictions as I touched before of some wizards (to which kind of men that age was much affected) concerning the new Prince who was after Henry the 8th, of his incest ious marriage, of the decay of his offspring, that he should pull down what the Kings had builded, which no marvel if the Bishop being by surname a King mistrusted to pertain also to his buildings. I heard by one Flower of Phillips Nortor, who said he saw Henry the seventh in this country, that this Bishop would wish he paid above the price of it, so it might have been finished, for if he ended it not, it would be pulled down ere it were perfected. As for the later predictions or rather postfictions (Fince this Bishop's death) I willingly omit concerning the Successors of this Bishop, as things worthier to be contemned then condemned, written by coleprophets upon whited walls, which the Italian calls the paper of fools. Muro bianco charta di matio, of which sort many have been made as well by our own Country men as others; but the best I remember was this written by an English gentleman since the three and fortieth year of Queen Elizabeth on the Church wall with a charcoal.  
O Church I wail thy woeful plight,  
Whom King nor Cardinal, Clark nor Knight  
Have yet restored to ancient right.  
Subscribed Ignoto.  
Whereunto a captain of an other Country wrote this for the comfort of this Church, and I wish him to prove a true prophet (though perhaps he died rather a Martyr.)  
Be blithe fair Kirk when hemp is past,  
Thine Olive that ill winds did blast  
Shall flourish green for aye to last.  
Subscribed Cassadore.  
But to proceed in this sad story, and leave this pleasant poetry, to pursue truths and eschew fictions to embrace reason and refuse rhyme, it is most apparent that after the death of this Oliver King, his Successors Cardinal Adrian, Cardinal Woolsey, Bishop clerk, and Bishop Knight, all succeeded in five and thirty years, of which the first two were supposed to poison themselves, the third to be poisoned by others, the last survived to see the death, or at least the deadly wound of this Church; for while the builders were ready to have finished it, the destroyers came to demolish it; yet to give the devil his right (as the Proverb is) it is said that the Commissioners in reverence and compassion of the place, did so far strain their Commission, that they offered to sell the whole Church to the Town under 500 Marks. But the Townsmen fearing they might be thought to cozen the King, if they bought it so cheap, or that it might after (as many things were) be found concealed, utterly refused it; whereupon certain Merchants bought all the glass, Iron, Bells and Lead, of which Lead alone was accounted for (as I have credibly heard) 480 tun, worth at this day 4800!. But what became of these spoils and spoilers.  
Desit in hac miki parte fides, neque credit factum;  
Aut si credetis facti quoque credit paenam.  
For I may well say Non possum quin exclamem. But in a word, soonafter the sellers lost their heads, the buyers lost their goods, being laid up in the great Treasury of Antichrist, I mean drowned in the Sea, from whence (as some write) by the devil's power, he shall recover all lost treasures for the maintaining of his unmeasurable jousts. Thus speedily it was pulled down, but how slow it hath risen again, I may blush to write. Collections have been made over all England, with which the Chancel is covered with blue slate, and an Alms house built ex abundantia, but the whole body of the Church stands bare ex humilitate. The rest of the money never coming to the townsmen's hands, is laid up as I suppose with that money collected for Paul's Steeple, which I leave to a melius inquirendum. And thus the Church lies still like the poor Traveller mentioned in the 10 of Luke, spoiled and wounded by thieves. The Priests go by, the Levites go by, but do nothing. Only a good Samaritan honest M. Billet, (worthy to be billeted in the new Jerusalem) hath poured some Qyl in the wounds, and maintained it in life. In so much as a wealthy Citizen of London, hath adventured to set his Tomb there, whom I commend more worthily than the Senate of Rome did thank Karra at his return from Cannae, quod de salute reipublicae non desperasset; for it seems this honest Citizen did not despair of the re-edifying this Church that gave order to be richly entombed therein,  
and thus much be said of this last Church of Bath.   

Bishop Barlow.  
The next I am to write of is Bishop Barlow, of whom my author in this Book saith little in the Latin Treatise: there is somewhat more, and I will add a word to both. Bath (as I have noted before) is but a title in this bishopric, so as for many years Bath, had the Name, but Wells had the game: but yet that one may know they be Sisters, Your Highness shall understand that this game I speak of which was one of the fairest of England, by certain booty play between a Protector and a Bishop (I suppose it was at Tictak) was like to have been lost with a why not, and to use rather another man's word then mine own to explain this Metaphor: thus saith the Latin Relation of him. He was a man no less godly than learned, but not so markable in any thing as in his fortunate offspring, for which Niobe and Latona might envy them, happy in his own Children, more happy in their Matches (to let pass his sons, of whom one is now Prebend in Wells, and esteemed most worthy of such a Father. He had five Daughters whom he bestowed on five most worthy men, of which three are Bishops at this hour, the other for their merit are in men's expectation designed to the like dignity hereafter. Howbeit (saith he) in one thing this Prelate is to be deemed unfortunate, that while he was Bishop his Sea received so great a blow losing at one clap, all the Rents and Revenues belonging to it. Thus he, and soon after he tells that for his marriage, he was deprived, and lived as a man banished in Germany. Here is his praise, here is his dispraise. If he were deprived for a lawful Act, no marvel if he be deprived for an unlawful: sith then my author compares his felicity with that of Niobe, I will also compare his misfortune with Peleus, making Ovid's verse to serve my turn in changing but a word or two.  
Faelix & Natis faelix & conjuge Barlow,  
Et cuisi demas: spoliati crimina templi  
Omnia contiger ant; hoc tanto crimine sontem accepit profugum patria Germanica tellus.  
But God would not suffer this morsel to be quite swallowed, but that it choked the feeders; to say nothing in this place, but how the Protector was foretold by a Poet, that he should lose his head.  
Aestatis sedes qui sacras diruis aedes,  
pro certo credes quod Cephas perdere debes.  
I speak now only of the spoil made under this Bishop scarce were five years past after Baths ruins, but as fast went the Axes and Hammers to work at Wells. The goodly Hall covered with Lead (because theRoof might seem too low for so large a Room) was uncovered, and now this roof reaches to the sky. The chapel of our Lady late repaired by Stillington a place of great Reverence and antiquity, was likewise defaced, and such was their thirst after Lead (I would they had drunk it scalding) that they took the dead bodies of Bishops out of their leaden Coffins, and cast abroad the Carcases scarce throughly petrified. The Statutes of brass, and all the ancient Monuments of Kings, benefactors to that goodly cathedral Church, went all the same way, sold as my author writes to an Alderman of London, who being then rich, and by this great bargain, thinking to have increased it, found it like auruin Tholosanum; for he so decayed after, no man knew how, that he broke in his Majoralty. The Statues for Kings were shipped for Bristol, but disdaining to be banished out of their own Country, chose rather to lie in St. George's Channel, where the Ship was drowned. Let Atheists laugh at such losses, and call them mischances; but all that truly fear God will count them terrible Judgements.  
These things were, I will not say done, I will say at least suffered by this Bishop; but I doubt not but he repented hereof, and did penance also in his banishment in sacco & cinere. But some will say to me, why did he not sue to be restored to his bishopric at his return, finding it vacant, but rather accepted of Chichester: I have asked this question, and I have received this answer, by which I am half persuaded, that Wells also had their prophecies as well as Bath, and that this Bishop was premonstrated (that I may not say predestinate) to give this great wound to this bishopric. There remain yet in the body of Wells Church, about 30 foot high, two eminent Images of stone set there as is thought by bishop Burnel that built the great Hall there in the reign of Ed: I. but most certainly long before the reign of H. 8. One of these Images is a King crowned, the other is of a Bishop mitred. This King in all proportions resembling H. 8. holdeth in his hand a Child falling, the Bishop hath a Woman and Children about him. Now the old men of Wells had a tradition, that when there should be such a King, and such a Bishop, than the Church should be in danger of ruin. This falling Child they say was King Edward, the fruitful Bishop, they affirmed was Doctor Barlow, the first married Bishop of Wells, and perhaps of England. This talk being rife in Wells in Queen Mary's time, made him rather affect Chichester at his return than Wells, where not only the things that were ruined, but those that remained served for records and remembrances of his sacrilege.   

Of Bishop Thomas Godwin.  
Of Bishop Gilbert Bourn I can add nothing, and of the other Gilbert but a word, that he was a good Justicer, as saith the same Author (nisi quatenus homo uxoris conjugis importunitate impulsus a veri ac recti tramite aberravit) saving that sometimes being ruled by his Wife, by her importunity he swarved from the rule of Justice and sincerity, especially in persecuting the kindred of Bourn his predecessor. The fame went that he died very rich, but the same importunate woman carried it all away, that neither Church nor poor were the better for it. But for Doctor God win of whom I am to speak, I must with my Authors leave add a word of mine own knowledge. He came to the place as well qualified for a Bishop as might be unreprovably without simony, given to good Hospitality, quiet, kind, affable, a widower, and in the Queens very good opinion, Non minor est virtus quam quaerere parta tueri, if he had held on as clear as he entered, I should have highly extolled him: but see his misfortune that first lost him the Queen's favour, and after forced him to another mischief. Being as I said, aged, and diseased, and lame of the Gout, he married (as some thought for opinion of wealth) a Widow of London. A chief favourite of that time (whom I am sorry, to have occasion to name again, in this kind) had laboured to get the manor of Banwell from this bishopric, and disdaining the repulse, now hearing this intempestive marriage, took advantage thereof, caused it to be told the Queen (knowing how much she misliked such matches) and instantly pursued the Bishop with letters and mandates for the manor of Banwell for 100 years. The góod Bishop not expecting such a sudden tempest, was greatly perplexed, yet a while he held out and endured many sharp Messages from the Queen, of which myself carried him one, delivered me by my Lord of Leicester, who seemed to favour the Bishop, and mislike with the Knight for molesting him, but they were soon agreed like Pilate and Herod to condemn Christ. Never was harmless man so traduced to his sovereign, that he had married a girl of twenty years old, with a great portion, that he had conveyed half the bishopric to her, that (because he had the Gout) he could not stand to his marriage, with such scoffs to make him ridiculous to the vulgar, and odious to the Queen.  
The good Earl of Bedford happening to be present when these tales were told, and knowing the Londoners Widow- the Bishop had married, said merrily to the Queen after his dry manner, Madam, I know not how much the Woman is above twenty, but I know a son of hers is but little under forty; but this rather marred then mended the matter. One said, Majus peccatum habet. Another told of three sorts of marriage, of God's making, as when Adam and Eve two young folks were coupled, of man's making, when one is old, and the other young, as Joseph's marriage, and of the devils making, when two old folks marry not for comfort, but for covetousness, and such they said was this. The conclusion to the premises was this, that to pacify his persecutors, and to save Banwell, he was fain with Wilscombe for 99 years, (I would it had been 100) and so purchased his peace. Thus the bishopric as well as the Bishop were punished, who wished in his heart he had never taken this preferment to foil himself in his decrepit age, with that ftain, that all his life he had abhorred, and to be made an instrument of another man's sacrilege, and used like a leaden Conduit Pipe to convey waters to others and drink nothing but the dregs and dross and rust itself, wherefore right honesty and modesty and no less learnedly writes his own son of him in the forenamed Treatise. O illum faelicem si faelix mane●e maluisset, quam Regi ●inis ecclesiastici labo is tum susciper, cum laboribus i●par fractus senio necessu n illi fuerit aliorum uti auxilio, &c. O happy he if he would rather have remained happy (where he was) then to undergo the labours of ecclesiastical government when he grew unable to travel, broken with age constrained to use the help of others, who though their duty required a care of so good a natured old man, yet they proving as most do negligent of others good, and too greedy of their own, overthrew both; For my part, though I loved him well and some of his, yet in this case I can make no other apology for him, nor use no other plea in his defence but such as able debtors do, that when they are sued upon just occasions plead per minas, or rather to liken him to an husbandman, that dwelling near a Judge that was a great Builder, and coming one day among divers other Neighbours with carriages, some of Stone, some Tin: The Steward, as the manner of the Country was, provided two Tables for their Dinners, for those that came upon request, Powdered beef and perhaps Venison, for those that came for hire, Poor-John and Apple Pies, and having envited them to fit down in his lordship's name, telling them one board was for them that came in Love, the other for those that came for Money, this husbandman and his Hind sat not down at either, the which the Steward imputing to simplicity repeated his former words again, praying them to sit down accordingly, but he answered (for there is craft in the clouted shoe) he saw no Table for him, for he came neither for love nor money, but for very fear; and even so I dare answer for this Bishop, he neither gave Wilscombe for love, nor sold it for money, but left it for fear.  
How strangely he was entrapped in the unfit marriage: I know not if it may be called a marriage.  
Non Hymenaeus adest illi, non gratia lecto.  
Himself protested to me with tears in his eyes, he took her but for a guide of his house, and for the rest (they were his own words) he lived with her as Joseph did with our Lady. Setting this one disgrace of his aside he was a man very well esteemed in the Country beloved of all men for his great hospitality, of the better sort for his kind entertainment and pleasant discourse at his Table, his reading had been much, his Judgement and Dcctrine sound, his government mild and not violent, his mind charitable, and therefore, I doubt not but when he lost this life he won heaven according to his word, Win God, win all. This I say truly of him which his Son was not so fit to say for fear perhaps of the foolish saying, yet wise enough if it be well understood. Nemo laud at patrem nisi improbus filius.   

Doctor John Still.  
But what stile shall I use to set forth this still, whom well nigh thirty years since my reverent Tutor in Cambridge styled by this name Divine Still, who when myself came to him to sue for my grace to be bachelor, first he examined me strictly, and after answered me kindly; that the grace he granted me was not of grace, but of merit, who was often content to grace my young exercises with his Venerable presence, who from that time to this hath given me some helps, more hopes, all encouragements in my best studies. To whom I never came but I grew more religious, from whom I never went but I parted better instructed. Of him therefore my acquaintance, my friend, my instructor, and lastly my Diocaesan, if I speak much, it were not to be marvelled, if I speak frankly, it is not to be blamed, and though I speak partially it were to be pardoned, yet to keep within my proportion, custom, and promise, in all these I must say this of him, his breeding was from his childhood in good literature, and partly in music, which was counted in those days a preparative to Divinity, neither could any be admitted to primam tonsuram, except he could first been le bene con bene can, as they called it, which is to read well, to construe well, and to sing well, in which last he hath good Judgement and I have heard good music of voices in his house. In his full time more full of Learning, he became bachelor of Divinity, and after Doctor, and so famous for a Preacher, and especially a disputer, that the learnedest were even afraid to dispute with him, and he finding his own strength could not stick to warn them in their Arguments to take heed to their answers, like a perfect Fencer that will tell aforehand in which button he will give the venew, or like a cunning chess-player tha will appoint aforehand with which pawn and in what place he will give the mate; and not to insist long in a matter so notorious, it may suffice that about twenty years since when the great diet or meeting should have been in Germany for composing matters in Religion, Doctor Still was chosen for Cambridge, and Doctor Humphrey for Oxford, to oppose all comers for the defence of the English Church, for this his known sufficiency he was not long unfurnished of double honour. The Puritans in Cambridge wooed him, and would fain have won him to their part; and seeing they could not, they forbore not in the Pulpit after their fashion to glance at him among others with their equivocations and epigrams. There was one Mr. Kay that offended them, and one said in a Sermon, that of all complexions the worst near such as were Kay-cold, and in the same Sermon and the like vein he said that some could not be contented with a Living worth 100 l. a year, another worth 120 l. but Still will have more. But howsoever they snarled, this Still was counted worthy of more, so as in the year 1592. being the 34 of the late Queen he was preferred to this Sea after it had been vacant well nigh three years; during the vacancy I can well remember there was great enquiring who should have it, and as if all Bishops should now be sworn to follow usum Sarum, every man made reckoning that the manor house and Park of Bamvell should be made a reward of some Courtier, it increased also this suspicion that Sir Thomas: Hennage an old Courtier, and a zealous Puritan was said to have an ore in the matter, whose conscience, if it were such in the Clergy, as that was found in the duchy, might well have digested a better Booty than Banwell. But when it was notified once who was named to it, I had better conceit, and straight I wrote to him as of old Cambridge acquaintance, and in such rusty Latin as I had left, gave him warning of this rumour, which he took exceeding kindly at my hands, though some others frowned on me for it many months after. So that for his entry to it I may boldly say that I said before of his Predecessor, that he came clearly to it without any touch or scandal, that he brought a good report from the places where he had lived, showed himself well natured and courteous to the kindred of his Predecessor, had a far greater fame of Learning and Merit, and which the Queen liked best of all, was single and a widower. Nay I may compare them yet further, he married also soon after he was settled, and the Queen was nothing well pleased with his marriage. Howbeit in all indifferent censures this marriage was much more justifiable than the other for age, for use, for end; he being not too old, nor she too young, being daughter to a worshipful Knight of the same Country and a great housekeeper, and drawing with her a kind of alliance with Judge Popham that swayed all the temporal government of the Country. These respects though I will not strive greatly to praise in a Bishop, yet the common sort will allow no doubt for wise and provident, so as the Queen's displeasure (your times being somewhat more propitious and favourable to bishoprics since Bishop Wickbams' Sermon) was the easier pacified without so costly sacrifice as a whole manor, and she contented herself only to break a jest upon the name of the Bishop, saying to Sir Henry Barckley, it was a dangerous name for a Bishop to match with a Horner. Since which time he hath preached before her more than once, and hath received good Testimonies of her good opinion, and God hath also blessed him many ways very greatly to see his children well brought up, well bestowed, and to have an unexpected Revenue, out of the entrails of the Earth (I mean the Leaden Mines of Mendip greater than his Predecessor had above ground, so as this Bishop seems to be blessed with Joseph's blessing, Benedictionibus caeli sur sum, benedictionibus Abyssi jacentis deorsum, benedictionibus uberis & vulvae, with blessing from heaven above, blessing from the deep that lieth beneath, blessings of the breasts and of the womb, which fortunate increase of living happening to a provident Man that was ever Homo frugi, it is supposed hath brought him to a great ability. In so much that his Church of Bath seems to conceive some hope that he will have have compassion of her ruins at the least (as Sir Arthur Hopton a good Knight of the Bath was wont between earnest and sport to motion unto him to give toward it, but the Lead to cover it which would cost him nothing, but he would reply again, well said gentle Sir Arthur, you will cough me as you scoff me, which is no great token that he liketh the motion. Yet at his being at Bath he promised them very fair, which they are bound to rem ember to remember him of sometime by their friends. One trifling accident happened to his Lordship there that I have thought of more consequence, & I tell him that I never knew him nonplussed in Argument but there. There was a craft's man of Bath a Recusant Puritan who condemning our Church, our Bishops, our Sacraments, our Prayers, was condemned himselse to die at the Assizes, but at my request Judge Adderton reprieved him, and he was suffered to remain at Bath upon bail The Bishop conferred with him in hope to convert him, and first my Lord alleged for the authority of the Church St. Augustine; the shoemaker answered Austin was but a man, he produced for antiquity of Bishops the fathers of the council of Nice, he answered, they were also but men and might err; why then said the Bishop thou are but a man and mayest and dost err. No Sir, saith he, the spirit bears witness to my spirit I am the child of God; alas saith the Bishop thy blind spirit will lead thee to the gallows: If I die saith he in the Lord's cause I shall be a Martyr. The Bishop turning to me stirred as much to pity as impatience; This man said he is not a sheep strayed from the Fold, for such may be brought in again on the shepherd's shoulders, but this is like a wild Buck broken out of a park, whose pale is thrown down, that flies the farther off the more he is hunted. Yet this man that stopped his ears like the Adder to the charms of the Bishop, was after persuaded by a layman and grew comfortable; but to draw to an end (in one question) this Bishop whom I count an oracle for learning would never yet give me satisfaction, and that was when I asked him his opinion of witches. He saith, he knows other men's opinions both old and new writers, but could never so digest them, to make them an opinion of his own. All I can get is this, that the devil is the old Serpent, our enemy that we pray to be delivered from daily; as willing to have us think he can do so much as to have us persuaded he doth nothing. To conclude of this Bishop without flattery I hold him a rare man for preaching for arguing, for learning, for living; I could only with that in all these he would make less use of logic and more of rhetoric.    

Of EXETER.  

Doctor William Cotton.  
WHen I reflect my thoughts and eye upon that I have written formerly, and see that I am like to equal or rather exceed my Author in quantity of Volume, taking the proportion of the longest Kings reign to that of Queen Elizabeth, I am the less troubled to think, that for lack of sufficient intelligence, I shall be constrained to do as he also hath done with divers of those former Bishops, namely, to obscure and omit the good deserts of some, and to conceal and hide the demerits of others, which if I fortune to do, yet will I neither crave pardon of the one, nor thanks of the other, being to be excused of both by an invincible ignorànce. Howbeit, if in these I have or shall treat of, I have been so plain and liberal, as thereby I may move the spleen of some Bishop to write against me, as Bishop Jovius did against Petro Aretino, whom notwithstanding some Italians call Unico & divino, whose Epitaph Paulus Jovius made thus, the man being long after alive.  
Qui giace l' Aretino l' amoro Tosco,  
Che besthemia ogniuno fuor che dio,  
Scusandoi con ill dire non lo cognosco.  
Which one did thus put into English:  
Here lies Aretine, that poisonous Toad,  
Whose spiteful Tongue & Pen (all Saints beshrew him)  
Did rail on Priest and Prince, and all but God,  
And said (for his excuse) I do not know him.  
I say, if any should follow this humour of Jovius, yet shall he not thereby put me into the humour of Aretine, that answered him. For I reverence all their places, and many of their persons. I know how high their calling is, that may say, pro Christo legatione fungimur. I know that next to Kings, Bishops are most sacred persons, and as it were God's on earth; howbeit also some of them have the imperfections of men, and those not prejudicial to the acts of their office. For my part, I would I could speak much good of all, and no ill of any, and say (for mine excuse) I do not know them.  
Accordingly of the bishopric and Bishop of Exeter, I can say but little, namely, that it is since Bishop Harmans' time (as my Author noted, pag. 337.) reduced to a good mediocrity, from one of the best bishoprics of England; so as now it is rather worthy of pity then envy, having but two manors left of two and twenty; and I will add thus much to your highness, that as in public respect, your highness should specially favour this Bishop, in whose diocese your duchy of Cornwall, and your Stanneries are; so the Duke may uphold the Bishop, and the reverend Bishop may bless the Duke.    

Of NORWICH.  
Concerning Norwich, whether it be the praise of the Bishops, or the people, or both, I know not, or whether I have here a partial relation. But by that I have heard, I shall judge this city to be another Utopia: The people live all so orderly, the streets kept solemnly; the tradesmen, young and old, so industrious; the better sort so provident, and withal so charitable: that it is as rare to meet a beggar there, as it is common to see them in Westminster. For the four Bishops that were in Queen Elizabeth's time, I know nothing in particular, but that they lived as Bishops should do, Sine querela, and were not warriors, like Bishop Spencer their predecessor in Henry the fourths time; nor had such store of Gold and Silver, as he had that could levy an Army. But for the present Bishop, I knew him but few years since Vicechancellor of Cambridge; and I am sure he had as good Latin as any of his Predecessors had, and accounted there a perfect Divine; in both which respects he is to be thought very fit for the place, being a Maritine Town, and much frequented with strangers, very devoutly given in Religion, and perhaps understands Latin as well as English.   

WORCESTER.  

Doctor Gervase Babington.  
WOrcester hath been fortunate in this last age to many excellent Bishops; of which but two in an hundred years have died Bishops thereof, the rest having been removed. Also in less than fourteen years that had one Bishop became Pope, namely Clement the seventh; another that was a Protestant, as Hugh Ladymer. Of the seven therefore that were in Queen Elizabeth's time, I shall in this place speak but of one, and that is him now living, who by birth is a gentleman of a very good house; for Learning inferior to few of his rank. He was sometime chaplain to the late Earl of Pembroke, whose Noble Countess used this her chaplains advice, I suppose, for the translation of the psalms; for it was more than a woman's skill to express the sense so right as she hath done in her verse, and more than the English or Latin translation could give her. They first were means to place him in Landaffe, near them; where he would say merrily his true Title should be off, for all the Land was gone thence. He came back over the Sea to the Sea of Exeter, and thence on terra firma to Worcester; a place where both the Church and Town are at this day in very flourishing estate, and the Church especially in good Reparations, which I take ever for one good argument of a good Bishop; for where the sheep be ragged, and the folds rotten, there I straight suppose is no very good shepherd: yet, as every general Rule, hath commonly some exceptions, so hath this in some places in England, and many more in Wales, of which I shall in their due place note somewhat in the ensuing Treatise. And thus much of Worcester.    

Of HEREFORD.  

John Scory.  
OF this twice Bishop Scory I have heard but little, yet it hath been my fortune to read something that will not be amiss to acquaint your highness with, that you may see how Satan doth sift the lives and doings of English Bishops with the Quills sometimes of strangers and foreigners. For whereas this our English modest writer only reports how he was first Bishop of Chicester, being but bachelor; of Divinity, and deprived for no fault but that he continued not a bachelor whereupon he fled for Religion (as the phrase was) till coming home in the year 1560 he was preferred to Hereford: the French writer stayeth not there, but telleth how that being settled there, though he professed to be a great enemy to Idolatry, yet in another sense according to St. Paul, he became a worshipper of Images (not Saints but Angels) belike he feared some future tempest, and therefore ●his h● to provide better for himself then he had at Chichester, so as what with pulling down houses and selling the Lead, and such loose ends, what with setting up good husbandries, what with Leases to his Tenants, with all manner of viis et modis, he heaped together a great mass of wealth. He that hath store of mettle must have also some dross, and no marvel if this Bishop then according to his name had much Scoria with this Treasure. A Noble and Honourable counsellor and thenLord President of Wales, hearing so frequent complaints made of him for oppressions, extortions, simonies, and the like, caused a bill to preferred into the Star-chamber against him; in which bill was contained such matter as was enough not only to disgrace him, but to degrade him if it had been accordingly followed. His solicitor of his causes brings him a Copy of the bill, and in reading it with him seemed not a little dismayed in his behalf much, like to the servant of Elisha that came trembling to his Master, and told him how they were beleaguered with a huge Army. But this Bishop though not endued with the spirit of a Prophet, yet having a spirit that could well see into his profit, bids his solicitor (who was his kinsman, perhaps his sister's brother's son) to be of good comfort; adding it may be the very words of Elisha, for there are more of our side then against us. But when his Gehezi (for the comparison suits better to the man then to the Master) could see as yet no comfortable vision; The good Bishop did not open his eyes to let him see as Elisha did the Chariots of fire on the tops of the mountains: but he opened his own bags and showed him some legions or rather chiliads of angels, who entering all at once, not into a herd of Swine, but into the hoard of a Lady that then was potent with him that was Dominus fac totum, cast such a Cloud into the Star-chamber, that the bill was never openly heard of after. This or the like and much more to the like effect writes this French Author of the said Bishop of Hereford, though the Treatise itself was not specially meant against the Bishop, but against a temporal Lord of a higher rank that was not a little nettled with the same. In so much as many travelling Gentlemen, and among other this Bishop's son was called in question for the publishing of this book, belike because some particularities of this matter were discovered that could come from none but him. But to come again to this Bishop; I hope it shall be no just scandal to other good Bishops, Judas will have Successors as well as James, and Simon Magus as well as Simon Peter (and sometime perhaps both in one chair. This man indeed had been brought up in the age of the friars that made much of themselves, and relinquished their cells, that read in the old Testament laetare & fac, but left out bonum; for so he followed the Text in the New Testament, Make you friends of the wicked Mammon, but left out that part that should have brought him to everlasting Tabernacles. For if God's mercy be not the greater, I fear his friend and he are met in no pleasant mansion, though too too durable, if the vision of Henry Lord Hunsdon were true, as an honest Gentleman hath often reported it. But all this notwithstanding, his posterity may do well, for God himself forbids men to say, That the fathers eat sour grapes, and the children's teeth be on edge; and if the worst be, the English Proverb may comfort them, which, lest it want reason, I will cite in rhyme.  
It is a saying common, more than civil,  
The son is blessed, whose sire is with the devil.  
After his decease a great and long suit was held against him about his dilapidasions, which makes the former report to eem the moreprbable.   

Doctor Herbert Westphaling.  
There succeeded him a learned & famous Doctor indeed, Dr. Westphaling, who after he had been a Bishop divers years, yet to show that good Bishops do not quite discontinue their studies, but rather increase their knowledge with their dignity, came to Oxford at her majesty's last being there, and made an eloquent and copious Oration before her, for conclusion of the Divinity disputations: among which one special question, that bred much attention, was this, whether it be lawful to dissemble in cause of Religion? and one Argument more witty than pithy, produced by an opponent was this, it is lawful to dispute of Religion, therefore it is lawful to dissemble, and urging it further, he said thus, I myself now do that which is lawful, but I do now dissemble. Ergo, it is lawful to dissemble; at which her Majesty, and all the Auditory were very merry, I could make a rehearsal of some of the Bishop's oration concerning this question, how he allowed a secrecy, but without dissimulation, a policy but not without piety, least men taking too much of the serpent, have too little of the Dove, but I am sure in all his speech he allowed no equivocation. Howbeit, if I should-insist long hereon, I might commit the same fault to your Highness, that the Queen at that time found in him, which was that she thought him too tedious. For she had sent twice to him to cut short his Oration, because herself went to make a public speech that evening, but he would not, or as some told her, could not put himself out of a set methodical speech, for fear he should have marred it all, and perhaps confounded his memory. Wherefore she forbore her speech that day, and more privately the next morning, sending for the heads of Houses, and a few others she spoke to them in Latin, and among othere she schooled Doctor Reynolds, for his preciseness, willing him to follow her Laws, and not to run before them. But it seemed he had forgotten it when he came last to Hampton Court, so as there he received a better schooling. I may not forget how the Queen in the midst of her oration, casting her eye aside, and seeing the old Lord, Treasur oer Burleigh standing on his lame feet for want of a stool, she called in all haste for a stool for him, nor would she proceed in her speech till she saw him provided of one, than fell she to it again, as if there had been no interruption: upon which one that might be so bold with her, told her after, that she did it of purpose to show that she could interrupt her speech, and not be put out, although the Bishop durst not adventure to do a less matter the day before.  
But this Bishop was every way a very sufficient man, and for such esteemed while he was of Christ-Church. Trifling accidents show as good proof of times, as the weightiest occasions. Such a one happened this Doctor while he was of the University as a Scholar of that time hath told me, and it was this. There had been a very sharp frost (such as have been many this year, and a sudden rain or sleet falling with it from the southeast, had as it were candied all that side of the Steeple at Christchurch, with an ice mixed with snow, which with the warmth of the Sun soon after 10. of the clock began to resolve, and Doctor Westphaling being in the middle of his Sermon, it fell down altogether upon the Leads of the Church, with such a noise, as if indeed it would have thrown down the whole Church. The people (as in sudden terrors is usual) filled all with tumult, and each man hasted to be gonen so fast that they hindered one another. He first kneeling down, and recommending himself to God, as in the apprehension of a sudden danger, straight rose again, and with so cheerful, both voice and countenance, encouraged them as they all returned, and he quietly finished his Sermon. But his chief praise I reserve for the last, which was this; for all such benefices as either were in his own gift, or fell into his hand by Lapse, which were not few, and some of great value, he neither respected Letters nor commendations of Lords nor Knights, nor Wife nor friends in preferment of any man, but only their sufficiency and their good conversation, so as to sue for a benefice unto him, was rather a means to miss then to attain it.   

Doctor Robert Bennet.  
This Bishop was preferred to this place since my author wrote his Catalogue, so as he is not therein specified; yet must I not do him that wrong to omit in this relation. This is he (if your Highness do remember it) of whom his Majesty said, if he were to choose a Bishop by the aspect, he would choose him of all the men he had seen, for a grave reverent and pleasing countenance. Concurring herein in a sort, though by contraries with the judgement of Henry the founrth Emperor, who coming from hunting one day (as Malmesbury writeth) went for devotion sake into a Church, where a very ill-favoured faced Priest was at service. The Emperor thinking his virtues suited his visage, said to himself, how can God like of so ugly a fellows service. But it fortuned at that instant, the priest's boy mumbling of that versicle in the hundred Psalm, Ipso nos fecit & non ipsi nos, and because he pronounced it not plainly, the Priest reproved him, and repeated it again, aloud, Ipse nos fecit & non ipsi nos, which the Emperor applying to his own Cogitation, thought the Priest to have some prophetical spirit, & fromthat time forward esteemed him greatly, and made him a Bishop. Thus that Bishop, though he could not set so good a face on it, yet perhaps he got as good a bishopric. But to come to our Bishop whom myself knew in Cambridge, a Master of Art, and a proper active man, and played well at Tennis; and after that, when he came to be bachelor of Divinity, he would toss an Argument in the Schools, better than a Ball in the Tennis-court. A grave Doctor yet living, and his ancient alluding to his Name in their disputation, called him Erudite benedict, and gave him for his outward, as well as inward Ornaments great commendation. He became after Chaplain to the Lord Treasurer Burleigh, who was very curious, and no less fortunate in the choice of his Chaplains, and they no less happy in the choice of their Patron, as Mr. Day after Bishop of Winchester, the Bishop I now speak of Doctor Neale now Dean of Westminster, and divers others.    

Chichester.  

I find in former ages many unlearned and unfit men, by favour recommended to bishoprics, but of a man recommended by the King, and refused by the Clergy, only for his want of Learning, I think there is but one Example, and that was one Robert Paslew in the time of Hen. 3. which Prince is no less to be commended for admitting the refusal, than they for refusing; but yet in speaking of learned Bishops, this Church may say their last have been their best. Doctor Watson your Highness can remember his majesty's Almoner, he was a very good Preacher, preferred by the Queen first, to the deanery of Bristol, where he was well beloved; and after to Chichester, where he was more honoured, if not more beloved, for the course of his life, and cause of his death, I might in some sort compare him to Bishop Vaughan, late of London, he grew somewhat corpulent, and having been sick, and but newly recovered, adventured to travel to wait in his place, and so by recidivation he died.   

Doctor Andrews.  
His Majesty having a great desire to prefer Doctor Andrews, than Dean of Westminster, made special choice of him to succeed him as well in the bishopric as the Aumnership, and I suppose if Hen. the 3d his Chaplain had been so good a scholar, he had not been refused for his Learning. This Bishop your Highness knoweth so well, and have heard him so oft, as it may be you think it needless to hear more of him. But I will be bold to say your Highness doth but half know him, for the virtues that are not seen in him, are more and greater than those that are seen, I will therefore play the blab so far, that your Higlmess may know him better. He was born in London, and trained up in the School of that famous Mulcaster, and for the special towardness was found in him in very young years, he was not only favoured, but had liberal exhibition given him by a great councillor of those times, as I shall note hereafter. The course of his study was not as most men's are in these times, to get a little superficial fight in Divinity, by reading two or three of the new writers, and straight take Orders, and up into the Pulpit. Of which kind of men a Reverent Bishop yet living said as properly as pleasantly, when one told of a young man that preached twice every Lord's day, beside some exercising in the Week days, it may be (saith he) he doth talk so often, but I doubt he doth not preach. And to the like effect the late Queen said to the same Bishop, when she had on the Friday heard one of those talking Preachers much commended to her by some body, and the Sunday after heard a well laboured Sermon that smelled on the Candle, I pray said the, let me have your bosom Sermons, rather than your lip-Sermons; for when the Preacher takes pains, the Auditor takes profit. But to come to Doctor Andrews that gathered before he did spend, reading both new Writers and old Writers, not as tasting but as digesting them, and finding according to our saviour's saying. {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} the old to be more profitable, at last his sufficiency could be no longer concealed. But as an industrious merchant that secretly and diligently follows his Trade with small show, till his wealth being grown so great, it can be no longer hidden, is then called on for Subsidies and Loans, and public services: so did this man's excellencies suddenly break forth. His Patron that studied projects of policy, as much as precepts of piety, hearing of his fame, and meaning to make use thereof, sent for him (as I have credibly heard) and dealt earnestly with him, to hold up a side that was even then falling, and to maintain certain state points of Puritanism. But he had too much of the {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} in him to be scared with a councillor's frown, or blown aside with his breath, answered him plainly, they were not only against his Learning, but his Conscience. The councillor seeing this man would be no friar Pinhie (to be taught in a Closet what he should say at Paul's) dismissed him with some disdain for the time; but afterward did the more reverence his integrity and honesty, and became no hinderer to his ensuing preferments. Of these one was a Prebend in Paul's, belonging to him, they call the Confessor or Confessioner, a place notoriously abused in time of Popery by their tyranny and superstitition; but now of late by a contrary extreme too much forgotten and neglected: while he held this place, his manner was, especially in Lent time, to walk duly at certain hours, in one of the isles of the Church, that if any came to him for spiritual advice and comfort, as some did, though not many, he might impart it to them. This Custom being agreeable to Scripture, and Fathers, expressed and required in a sort in the Communion Book, not repugning the 39 Articles, and no less approved by Calvin in his Institutions, yet was quarrelled with by divers (upon occasion of some Sermons of his) as a point of Popery. The like scandal was taken of some, though not given by him, for his reverent speaking of the highest Mystery of our Faith and heavenly food the Lord's Supper, which some are so stiff in their knees, or rather in their hearts, that they hold it Idolarry to receive that kneeling. But whatsoever such barked at, he ever kept one tenor of life and Doctrine Exemplar and unreprovable.  
Two special things I have observed in his Preaching, that I may not omit to speak of. One to raise a joint reverence to God and the Prince, to spiritual and civil Magistrate, by uniting and not severing them.  
The other to lead to amendment of Life, and to good works, the fruits of true Repentance.  
Of the first kind, he made a Sermon before the Queen long since, which was most famous of this Text. Thou leddest thy people like Sheep by the hands of Moses and Aaron. Which Sermon, (though courteous ears are commonly so open, as it goes in at one ear, and out at the other) yet it left an Aculeus behind in many of all sorts. And Henry Noel one of the greatest Gallants of those times, swore as he was a Gentleman, he never heard man speak with such a spirit. And the like to this was his Sermon before the King, of two silver Trumpets to be made of one piece. Of the second kind I may say all his Sermons are, but I will mentition but his last, that I heard the fifth of the last November, which Sermon I could wish ever to read upon that day. When the Lord turned the Captivity of Zion, &c. And I never saw his Majesty more sweetly affected with any Sermon then with that. But to conclude, I persuade myself, that whensoever it shall please God to give the King means, with consent of his confederate Princes to make that great peace which his blessed word Beati Pacifici seemeth to promise, I mean the ending of this great schism in the Church of God, procured as much by ambition, as by superstition; This reverent Prelate will be found one of the ablest, not of England only, but of Europe, to set the course for composing the controversies, which I speak not to add reputation to his sufficiency by my judgement; but rather to win credit to my judgement by his sufficiency. And whereas I know some that have known him so long as I have, yet have heard and believe no less of his Learning than I speak, find fault that he is not so apt to deliver his resolution upon every question moved as they could wish, who if they be not quickly resolved of that they ask, will quickly resolve not to care for it. I say this Cunctation is the mean between Precipitation and Procrastination, and is specially commended by the Apostle St. James, as I have heard him allege it, Sit omnis homo {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} tardus ad loquendum, tardus ad iram.    

Rochester.  

Doctor Barlow.  
THis bishopric having been noted in Hen. the 3d his time, to have been one of the poorest of England, hath I suppose the less been impoverished in the spoiling times. The grand spoilers being of the mind of some tailors, that when their allowance of stuff was most scant, they would make the Garment the Larger. This city in these last 100 years, hath had 14 Bishops, of which one was a Cardinal, two were archbishops, and I take it but one hath died Bishop, and that was the last before this whose Name was Young, but lived to be very old, and desired not to remove. His Successor Doctor Bar low is one of they oungest in age, but one of the ripest in learning of all his predecessors, since Bishop Fisher that had ill luck with his learning, to die upon Tower-Hill. There are so many printed testimonies of his sufficiency, as I need say the less of it; but it is like he shall not abide there long. Of all his Sermons he preached before Queen Elizabeth, which were many, and very good. One that she liked exceedingly was of the Plough, of which she said, Barlows Text might seem taken from the Cart, but his talk may teach you all in the Court. He made a Sermon not long after that at Paul's, which man, especially Puritans, did much mislike, and for that cause call it (Alleging to his name) the Barley Loaf, not marking how much honour they give it in their scorn, by example, both of the old Testament and new. In the old Testament, the Barley Loaf signified Gedeons' sword, ordained to destroy the wicked. In the new, by the blessing of our Saviour, that fed more thousands of honest men than this offended.    

Of OXENFORD.  

Doctor Underhill.  
FRom Rochester I should go a long pilgrimage to St. David's in Wales, save I must bait a little out of my way at four new bishoprics erected by King Henry the eighth of famous memory, and therefore I hope not ordained to be dissolved of a Henry the ninth of future and fortunate expectation; I say I will but bait especially at Oxford, lest I be baited, if I stay too long, for I know this discourse is to some as Unguis in ulcere. This bishopric being but 66 years since erected, had two Bishops in 26 years, and then continued void 21. years, what time of pure devotion to the Leases that would yield good Fines, a great person recommended Doctor Underhill to this place, persuading him to take it, as in the way to a better; but God knows it was out of his way every way. For ere his First Fruits were paid, he died (as I heard at Greenwich, in much discontent and poverty; yet his preferrer to seem to do some favour to the University of Oxford, for recompense of the spoil done on the bishopric of Oxford, erected a new solemn lecture there at his own charge, which Doctor Reynolds did read, at which Lecture I happened, once to be present with the Founder, where we were taught, Nihil & non,. as elsewhere I have at large showed to your highness. But though the many-headed beast, the multitude was bleared with this bounty; yet the scholars that were more Nasuti, oculati & Cordati, did smell, and see, and say, that this was but to steal a goose, and stick a feather. And indeed this was the true theoric and practic of Puritanism. One impugning the authority of Bishops secretly, by such Lectures; the other impoverishing their Livings openly by such Leases.  
After the Bishop Underhill was laid under the earth, I think the Sea of Oxford would have been drowned in the Sea of Oblivion, if his Majesty, whose soul abhors all sacrilege had not supplied it with the good Father that now holdeth it, Doctor John Bridges, a man whose Volumes in Prose and Verse give sufficiend testimony of his industry, though for mine own part I am grown an unfit praiser of Poetry, having taken such a surfeit of it in my youth, that I think now, a grey head and a verse do not agree together, and much less a grave matter, and a verse. For the reputation of Poetry is so altered by the iniquity of the times, that whereas it was wont to make simple folk believe some things that were false, now it makes our great wise men to doubt of things that be true. When the Creed was first put into English verse, as it is now sung in the Church, the descending of Christ into Hell, was never questioned, but since it hath been sung 50 year or more,  
His Spirit did after this descend into the lower parts  
To them that long in darkness were, the true light of our hearts.  
The doubt that was made of the latter of these two verses, hath caused the truth of the former to be called in question.  
Wherefore though I grant that Psalms and Hymns may, and perhaps ought to be in verse as good Linguists affirm, Moses and David's Psalms to be originally, yet I am almost of opinion that one ought to abjure all Poetry when he comes to Divinity. But not derogating herein from the travels of my betters and the Judgement of mine Elders I proceed or rather post to my next stage.    

OF Gloucester.  

Dr. Thomson.  
AT Gloucester I shall at this time make a very short bait, the last Bishop thereof being but lately removed to London, and the present Bishop scant yet warm in his seat; yet this I must say, that I have heard some students of good judgement that knew him in Oxford affirm, that in his very young years he gave a great hope and good presage of his future excellency, having a rare gift ex tempore in all his school exercises, and such a happy wit to make use of all occurrents to his purpose, as if he had not taken the occasions, as they fell out by accident, but rather bespoken such pretty accidents to fall out to give him the occasions. I have often heard him before Queen Elizabeth, and it was not possible to deliver sounder matter nor with better method, for which cause he was greatly respected and reverenced at the Court. But for his latter Sermon before the two most magnificent Kings, your highness' Father and uncle, I cannot praise him; no, for I am a Cambridge man, but I can envy him, that in two judgements, omni exceptione majoribus▪ did carry the commendation of the pure Latin Language (peculiar as I thought unto Cambridge) to her younger sister of Oxford; and thus much for him whose virtues no doubt will give matter for some further Relation under some other title hereafter.    

Of PETERBOROUGH.  

Dr. Thomas Dove.  
I should do both this worthy Prelate and myself much wrong, if I should not commend him for many good parts, being one whom I have long known to have been greatly respected and favoured by the late Queen; and no less liked and approved in the more learned judgement of his Majesty. How beit the ground on which I would build his chief praise (to some of the Aristarchy and sour censures of these days, requires first an apology. For I remember that even in Cambridge, about twenty five years since, and I am sure he remembers it too) a question arose among the Divines scarce fit for the schools, less fit for the Pulpit, yet was it both handled and determined in the Pulpit, whether rhetorical Figures and Tropes, and other artificial ornaments of speech taken from profane authors, as sentences, adages, and such like, might be used in Sermons, and not rather the plain naked truth delivered out of the word of God. The precise fort, that would have the Word, and Church and all go naked, saving some Apron perhaps of Fig-leaves, were not only earnest but bitter against the use of all such human, or (as they call them) profane helps, calling them paintings fitter for Strumpets, then for chaste Matrons. But the graver and more Orthodox were of the other opinion, and namely my learned Tutor Doctor Flemning, by appointment of the heads of the colleges in an excellent Sermon determined the controversy. That seeing now the extraordinary gift, first of tongues, then of miracles was ceased, and that knowledge is not now Infusa but Acquisita, we should not despise the help of any human learning, as neither St. Paul did, who used the sentences of Poets, and hath many excellent Tropes, with exaggerations and exclamations in his Epistles; for chastity doth not abhor all ornaments, for Judeth did attire her head as curiously as Jesabel, &c.  
About twelve years after this, the very same question in the same manner was canvased at Oxford, and determined in the Pulpit by Dr. House against Doctor Reynolds, who held the other opinion. But upon occasion of this Sermon, at which my brother (that had been his scholar) and myself happened both to be present; he retracted to us his opinion, or rather disclaimed, as my Lord of Duresme that now is (but then Dean of Christchurch) doth well remember. This opinion then being sound, that Eloquence may serve as an handmaid, and Tropes and Figures, as Jewels and Ornaments to this chaste Matron, Divinity; I must say as I began, that his Sermons are as well attended and adorned in this kind, and as plentifully as any of his predecessors have been, or his successors are like to be; and that they were wont so to be long since sufficeth this testimony, that her Majesty that last reigned when she first heard him, said, she thought the holy Ghost was descecded again in this Dove.    

Of BRISTOL.  

Dr. John Thornbury.  
BRistoll being a bishopric of the later erection, namely but 66. years since, no marvel it never had any Bishop thereof Cannonized for a Saint, yet it cannot be denied since to have had one Holyman; and if copulation with a Bishop might make them holy, it hath had also in his short time more than one holy woman. Ispent a roving shaft on Fletcher's second Marriage, I would I could as well pluck out the thorn of Doctor Thornburies' first Marriage out of every man's conscience that have taken a scandal of his second. For my part whatsoever I think in my private, it becomes us not to Judge our Judges, the customs and laws of some Countries differ from other, and sometimes are changed and mended in the same, as this case of divorce is most godly reformed in ours, and as Vincentius Lirinensis saith well of St. Cyprian who had before the council of Carthage defended rebaptising. The Author of this error, saith he, is no doubt in heaven, the followers and practifers of it now go to hell, so I may say of this Bishop, his remarriage may be pardoned, Et in hoc saeculo et in futuro, but he that shall so do, again may be met with in hoc saeculo. But it was the Bishop of Limbrick in Ireland and not the Bishop of Bristol in England that thus married; what? doth this lessen the scandal? I suppose it doth. For I dare affirm, that most of that diocese are so well catechised, as they think it as great a scandal for their Bishop, (yea rather greater) to have one wife as to have two, and though for Lay men's Marriage, their Priests tell them it is a holy Sacrament in them (which they count a sacrilege in a Bishop) and they confer to them out of St. Paul {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman}, there is a great Sacrament, yet their people and some of their Peers also regard it as slightly, and dissolve it more uncivilly than if it were but a civil contract, for which they draw not only by their bastardies and bigamies many apparent scourges of God the heavenly Father, but also a peculiar penance unto their Nation of one fasting day extraordinary from their holy father the Pope. But setting aside this misfortune rather than fault, which is God and the King pardon him for, who shall impute to him? for other matters, I have reason to think him and his in Gods and the King's favour. He and his whole family had a miraculous escape in Ireland, which I would all our Bishops did know▪ that they might remember to keep their houses in better reparations. Lying in an old Castle in Ireland in a large room, partitioned but with sheets or curtains, his wife, children, and servants, in effect a whole family; In the dead time of the night, the floor over head being earth and plaster, as in many places is used, overcharged with weight, fell wholly down together, and crushing all to pieces that was above two foot high as cupboards, tables, forms, stools, rested at last upon certain chests, as God would have it, and hurt no living creature. He did many good services in Ireland for our Queen and State, for which he was thought worthy of a better abode, then in that Purgatory.  
He hath very good understanding of that country, and if some others, who are since gone out of this world, had been as willing as he to have reported to his Majesty the diseases of that country and the fittest cures, it may be it would not in long time have needed those desperate remedies of Secandum and Vrendum, as sharp to the Surgeons oftentimes as to the Patients. But to conclude, of this Bishop, whom I love more than I praise, he is not unfurnished of Learning, of wisdom, of Courage and other as well episcopal as temporal panoplia or furniture beseeming a gentleman, a Dean, and a Bishop.    

Of St. David's,  

and the present Bishop, Dr. Anthony Rudd.  
OF this ancient bishopric or rather archbishopric of St. David's (as the old true Britains do call it) in latter called Menevia, and the Bishop Menevensis, I was told of an old indulgence granted by Calixtus the second, of a very special note, ascribing thereby great holiness to this place, viz. that two pilgrimages to St. David's should be equal in merit to one pilgrimage to Rome, expressed since for brevity's sake by some friar in a rhyming verse, Roma semel quantum, Bis dat Menevia tantum. This place hath yielded many excellent Bishops, as well for good Learning as good life, and for abstinence miraculous, if we believe stories that 33. Bishops successively did eat no flesh. I can add little of the Bishops save of him that now lives whom if I knew not, yet by his look I should guess to be a grave and austere man, even like St. David himself, but knowing him as I do, he was in more possibility to have proved like to St. John Baptist in my opinion. There is almost none that waited in Queen Elizabeth's Court and observed any thing, but can tell, that it pleased her very much to seem, to be thought, and to be told that she looked young. The Majesty and gravity of a sceptre borne 44. years could not alter that nature of a woman in her; This notwithstanding, this good Bishop being appointed to Preach before her in the Lent of the year 1596, the Court then lying at Richmond, wishing in a godly zeal, as well became him, that she should think sometime of Mortality, being then 63. years of age, he took this text fit for that purpose out of the Psalms, Psalm. 90. vers. 12. O teach us to number our days, that we may incline our heart unto wisdom, which Text he handled so well, so learnedly, and so respectively, as I dare undertake & so should I if I had not been somewhat better acquainted with the humour, that it would have well pleased her, or at least no way offended her. But when he had spoken a while of some sacred and mystical numbers, as three for the Trinity, three times three for the heavenly Hierarchy seven for the Sabbath, and seven times seven for a jubilee; and lastly (I do not deliver it so handsomely as he brought it in) seven times nine for the grand climacterical year; she perceiving whereto it tended began to be trouled with it. The Bishop discovering all was not well, for the Pulpit stands there Vis a vis to the Closet, he fell to Treat of some more plausible numbers, as of the number 666. making Latinus with which he said he could prove the Pope to be Antichrist also, of the fatal number of 88 which being so long before spoken of for a dangerous year, yet it hath pleased God that year not only to preserve her but to give her a famous victory, against the united Forces of Rome and Spain; and so he said there was no doubt but she should pass this year also and many more, if she would in her meditations and Soliloquies with God, as he doubted not she often did, and would say thus and thus. So making indeed an excellent prayer by way of Prosopopeia in her majesty's person acknowledging God's great graces and benefits, and praying devoutly for the continuance of them, but withal interlarding it with some passages of Scripture that touch the infirmities of age; as that of Ecclesiastes 12. When the Grynders shall be few in number, and they wax dark that look out of the windows &c. and the Daughters of singing shall be abased: and more to like purpose, he concluded his Sermon. The Queen as the manner was opened the window, but she was so far from giving him thanks or good countenance, that she said plainly he should have kept his arithmetic for himself, but I see said she the greatest Clerks are not the wisest men, and so went away for the time discontented. The Lord Keeper Puckering though reverencing the man much in his particular, yet for the present to assuage the Queen's displeasure, commanded him to keep his house for a time, which he did. But of a truth her Majesty showed no ill nature in this, for within three days after she was not only displeased at his restraint, but in my hearing rebuked a Lady yet living for speaking scornfully of him and his Sermon. Only to show how the good Bishop was deceived in supposing she was so decayed in her limbs and senses as himself perhaps & other of that age were wont to be; she said she thanked God that neither her stomach nor strength, nor her voice for singing nor fingering Instruments; nor lastly, her sight was any whit decayed, and to prove the last before us all she produced a little jewel that had an inscription of very small Letters, and offered it first to my Lord of Worcester, and then to Sir James Crofts to read, and both protested bona fide that they could not, yet the Queen herself did find out the poesy, and made herself merry with the standers by upon it; and thus much for St. David's. Yet I have been told of a strange story of a huge weight and bigness that hath a pretty quality, namely, that with one finger you may stir it, yet twenty yoke of Oxen cannot remove it; but I rather think it is mistaken, for the stone Mr. Cambden writes of is near Pensance in your Country of Cornwall, called Mam amber, of which he writes page 136. hath the very like quality.    

Of LANDAFF.  

Doctor Francis Godwin.  
It is doubtless a wonderful antiquity that my author produceth of Landaff, that it professed Christianity, and had a Church for Christian Religion in the year of our Lord 180. But alas, for a man to boast of great Nobility, and go in ragged clothes, and a Church to be praised for great antiquity, and make ruinous shows, is in mine opinion according to the vulgar proverb, a great boast and a small roast. But by this author's relation it appears, this roast was so marred by an ill cook, as by a worse Kitchen; for in the year 1545. being the 37 year of Henry the eight, Doctor Kitchen being made of an idle Abbot, a busy Bishop, & wading through those hazardous times that ensued till the first year of Queen Elizabeth, to save himself was content to spoil his bishopric; Satan having in those days more care to sift the bishoprics than the Bishops, else how was it possible for a man of that rank to sing, Cantate domino canticum novum four times in fourteen years, and never sing out of tune, if he had not loved the Kitchen better than the Church. Howbeit, though he might seem for name sake to favour the Kitchen, yet in spoiling that sea he was as little friend to the Kitchen as the rest, spoiling the woods and good provisions that should have warmed it, which gave occasion to Doctor Babbington, now Bishop of Worcester, to call it Aph without Land, and Doctor Morgan after to remove to Saint Assaph, from thence not for name sake, but for his own name sake, that is more-gain: At what time the present Bishop I now speak of, being than sub-dean of Exeter, Doctor Francis Godwin, having that year newly published this work, she gave him presently this bishopric, not full two months vacant, and would as willingly have given him a much better in her own disposition, as may well appear in that she gave Doctor Cooper the bishopric of Lincoln●, only for making a Dictionary, or rather but for mending that which Sir Thomas Eliot had made before. Of this Bishop therefore I may speak sparingly, yea, rather spare all speech, considering that every leaf of his worthy work, is a sufficient testimony of his virtuous mind, unfatigable industry, and infinite reading; for even as we see commonly, those Gentlemen that are well descended, and better bred, are most careful to preserve the true memory and pedigree of their Ancestors, which the base and ignorant, because they could not conserve, will seem to condemn: So this worthy Bishop, collecting so diligently, & relating so faithfully the succession and lives of so many of our Christian most reverend Bishops in former ages, doth prove himself more by spiritual, then carnal birth, to come of those Ancestors, of whom it was long before prophesied by the princely Prophet, In stead of thy Fathers, thou shalt have Children whom thou shalt make Princes in all places. Though the policy of these latter times hath sought to make our Fathers all but Children, and younger brothers (as they say) and to disinherit them of their patrimony; he deserveth therefore a pen much better than mine, and equal to his own, to do that for him he hath done for others. Before his going to Ex eter, I had some acquaintance with him, and have heard him preach more than once at our Assizes and else where, his manner was to be sharp against the Vices most abounding in that time, sacrilege simony, contempt of God in his Ministers, and want of Charity. Amongst other of his Sermons, preaching once of Dives and Lazarus, the said, that though the Scriptures had not expressed plainly who Dives was, yet by his clothes and his face he might be bold to affirm, he was at the least a Justice of Peace, and perhaps of Oyer & Terminer too. This speech was so ill taken by some guilty conscience, that a great matter was enforced to be made of it, that it was a dangerous & seditious speech; and why? forsooth because it was a dear year; but see how a man's enemies sometimes do him as much good as his friends: their fond accusation & his discreet justification made him both better known, & more respected by them that were able to do him most good. Since this he hath lived in so remote places from my occasions, first at Exeter, and then beyond sea in Wales, that I am become almost a stranger to his person, but yet I am grown better acquainted with his writings both in Latin and English, and namely by this his Catalogue, which having read first with great contentment to myself; I have since for your highness' pleasure perused again, and presumed to add some notes, and a table, by way of Alphabet, for the more ready finding of most memorable matters, beside a supply of such as were in his edition wanting; of whom finding himself to be one, that coming in so worthily was unworthy to be left out. I give him here in his due place his more due commendation, which if I should fortune upon some envy to have forborn, or upon judgement to have omitted, as a praise needless where the whole work is his praise, he might worthily have said as much of me, as I wrote of a certain Poetaster some year's paft, who left me out of the bead-roul of some rhyming paper blotters that he called Poets.  
Of Poets Balbus reckoning up a table,  
doth boast he makes their names more honourable,  
And ne'er vouchsafing me to name at all,  
he says he knows he grieved me to the gall.  
I galled? simple soul; no, thou art gulled  
to think I prize the praise of such a dull-head,  
Whose verse 〈◊〉 guilty of some b●dge or blame,  
Let them seek testimonials of their fame.  
Then learn untaught, then learn ye envious Elves,  
No Books are praised, that praise not most themselves.    
And thus much be said for the Province of Canterbury and the Bishops of the several dioceses thereof.   

There follows now to say somewhat also of the Province of York, which I shall endeavour to accomplish with like brevity and fidelity.  

Of the Archbishops of York,  

and first of Doctor Thomas Young.  
Concerning the Archbishops of York that have been in the former ages, whose lives are particularly-related by this Author, it seèmes to me a matter worthy some note, that there have been of them, for devotion and piety, as holy, for blood and nobility, as high, of wealth and ability as huge, as any not only of England but of Europe. Now that every age may have his excellency, I will say of this our age, I mean for some fifty years past, in which there hath been seven Archbishops of York, that these have been as excellent in courage, in learning, and eloquence; for Doctor Nicholas Heath whom her late Majesty found both Archbishop and Chancellor (though she did take or rather receive both from him) yet did she ever gratefully acknowledge both his courage & fidelity showed in her cause, & used no man of his Religion so graciously. Of Archbishop Grindall I have spoken before, and in his due place given him his due praise; now I am to add a word or two of Archbishop Young, that in the third year of Queen Elizabeth was made Archbishop. He was first Bishop of Saint David's, and either next or very soon after Bishop Farrar, who among other articles that were alleged against him, had one that I think was never alleged against clergyman or layman before, and that was for riding on a Scottish saddle; but this Bishop walked more warily than that Bishop did ride, so as this came to live in a state when tother died at a stake: and how great soever his honour was in being both Archbishop and President, he left one precedent that too many are apt to follow, which was the pulling down of a goodly Hall, for the greediness of the Lead that covered it. Plumbi faeda fames. A drossy desire and unworthy part, with which he stained the reputation of learning and religion, that was before ascribed to him, and although by means of some great friend this was less spoken of in his life time then after, yet if I have been rightly informed, even by that he was made no great gainer. True it is, he purchased great things of the Earl of Arundel, and how his heirs thrive with it, I do not hear, but there is a perilous verse, Demale quaesitis vix gaudet tertius baeres. For my own part I must confess, that where I find that same destroying and reviving spirit, that in the Apocalypse is named in Hebrew Abaddon, & sounds in my English care and heart, a bad one, I suspect there is little true virtue or godliness harboured in that breast. But if he were finely beguiled of all this Lead by his great friend that would be bold with him, I imagine that none that hears it will much lament it; at a venture, I will tell your highness the tale that I heard, from as good a man as I tell it of, only because he named not the parties, I cannot precisely affirm it was this man, but I dare affirm this man was as worthy of it. A great Lord in the Court in those days sent to a great Prelate in the North to borrow 1000 li. of him: The Prelate protested on his faith (I think not a justifying faith) that he was not able to do it, but if he were, he would be very willing, acknowledging great favours of the said Lord, and sending some present enough perhaps to pay for the use of 1000 li. The noble man that had a good espial both North and South, hearing of a certain Ship loaden with lead, belonging to this Prelate, that came to be sold at London, even as it came to land, sends for the prelate's Agent, shows him his Lord's Letter and Protestation under his hand, proves the ability demonstrable by the Lead, and so by treaty or terror, or treachery of the servant, made him betray his Master for 1000 li.   

Doctor Edwin Sands.  
As those that sail from Flanders or Ireland, to London or Bristol, being past the tempestuous and broken seas, and now in sight of the Harbour, yet even their fear to miscarry sometime by mistaking the channel, are oft so perplexed, as one bids to set sail again, another advises to cast Anchor; so is it now with me, drawing toward the end of this my short and voluntary voyage: I remember a ship of London once that having past the Goodwin Sands very safe, and sailing on this side Blackwall to come up to Ratcliefe, struck on the black Rock at the point below Greenwich, and was almost cast away. I have, as your highness sees past already the Godwins, if I can as well pass over this E'dwin Sands, I will go roamer of Greenwich Rock, not forgetting to veil as becomes me in passing by, and if the spring Tide serve, come to Anchor about Richmond. For I am entering now to write of an Archbishop, who though he died twenty years since in that Anno mirabili of 88 yet he lives still in his offspring, having a son of his name that both speaks and writes admirably, whose profession, though it be not of Religion as his fathers was, yet never did his father's preaching show better what to follow, than his writings show what to shun; if my Pen therefore should wrong his father, his Pen no less might wrong me. I must appeal therefore for my justification in this point to the most indifferent censurers, and to yours especially sweet Prince, for whose fake I write; for ifI should let pass a matter so notorious as that of this Archbishop of York and Sir Robert Stapleton, it were so wilful an omission as every one might accuse me of; and if I should speak of either partially and against my own conscience and knowledge, I should much more accuse myself. Here then is the Scylla and Carybdis that I sail between, and if I fail of my right course, I shall be driven to say as a silly preacher did upon an unlike occasion, and much less to his purpose when he happened unawares to have a more learned Auditory than he expected.  
Incidi in ancillam cupiens vitare Caribden.  
But the Story that I make this long introduction unto is shortly this. About 25. years' fince there was great kindness, and had long continued between Archbishop Sands and Sir Robert Stapleton a Knight of Yorkshire, whom your highness hath often seen, who in those days for a man well spoken, properly seen in Languages, a comely and goodly Personage, had scant an equal, and (except Sir Philip Sidney) no superior in England: for which Reasons the Archbishop of all his Neighbours and countrymen, did make a special account of him. About the year 83. also he was high-sheriff of Yorkshire, and met the Judges with seven score men in suitable Liveries, and being at this time likewise a widower, he wooed and won, and wedded soon after, one of the best reputed widows in the West of England. In this felicity he sailed with full sails, but somewhat too high, and no less the Archbishop in like prosperity of wealth, and friends and Children, yet seeming above all, to joy in the friendship of this Knight, who answered in all good correspondence, not only of outward compliment, but inward comfort; but well said the Spanish Poet,  
Nulli te facias nimis sodalem,  
Gaudebis minus & minus. dolebis.  
Too much Companion make yourself to none,  
Your joy will be the less, and less your moan.  
These two so friendly Neighbours and Consorts swimming in this Calm of content, at last happened to fall foul one on another by this occasion. The Knight in his great good fortunes, having as great designs among other things, had laid the foundation of a fair house, or rather Palace, the model whereof he had brought out of Italy, which house he intended to name Stapleton's stay; and for that cause invited the Archbishop in good kindness to see it, and requested him for the more credit, and as it were, blessing to the house, that his grace would give it the foresaid name. But when the Archbishop had fully beheld it, and in his Judgement found it fitter for a Lord Treasurer of England, then for a Knight of Yorkshire. He said to him, would you have me call this intended House Stapleton's Stay. Nay rather let me say to you, stay Stapleton; for if you go forward to set up this House, it will pull you down. How often a man loses a friend with a jest, and how grievous it is for a man's vanity to be crossed in the humour. This speech of my Lords that I should think, intended friendly, uttered faithfully, and applied even fatherly unto him, he took in so deep disdain and despite, that howsoever he smothered it for the present, from that time forward he sought a mean to revenge it. And wanting neither wit to devise, nor courage to execute his design, he found out, or at least he supposed he had found a stratagem, not only to wreak this scorn on the good Bishop that mistrusted nothing, but also to make the old man's purse pay for the finishing of the new house. He acquaints him with an Officer in my Lord's house, some malcontent that had been denied a Lease. These two device, that when my Lord should lie next at Doncaster, where the Hostess of the house having been (formerly I suppose) Mistress Sands Maid, was bold sometimes to bring his Lordship a caudle to his bed's side (for in charity I may surmise no worse) Sir Robert should also by chance come and host at the same house. This bad Wife and her good man are made partakers and parties of this stratagem, her part was but a naked part, viz. to slip into my Lord's Bed in her smock, mine host must suddenly be jealous, and swear that he holds his reputation, though he be but a poor man, more dear than that he can endure such an indignity, and thereupon calls Sir Robert Stapleton, brings him to the Bishop's Chamber in his nightgown, takes them in bed together with no small exclamation. The Knight that acted his part with most art, and left suspicion, takes great pains to pacify the host, conjures all that were admitted to secrecy and silence, and sending all to their Lodgings without tumult, asketh of my Lord how this came to pass. The Bishop tells him with a great Protestation, that he was betrayed by his man and his host, little suspecting the Knight to be of the Quorum. The Knight soothes him in all he said, condoles the great mischance, is sorrowful for the danger, and careful for the honour of the Bishop, and specially the Church.  
Proh superi quantum mortalia pecior a caecae Noctis habent? ipso sceleris molimine (Miles) Creditur esse pius. The distressed Archbishop distrusting no fraud in him, asketh his advice in this disaster, and following his counsel from time to time, gives the host a piece of money, the false Officer a Farm, and the Knight for his travail in this matter many friendly recompenses. But when he found after all this smoothing and soothing, that he grew so bold at last to press him beyond all good manner, for the good manor of Soothwell, than he found that in sooth all was not well, and was even compelled too late, to that he might much better have done much sooner, viz. To complain to the Lords of the council, and to his ancient and dear friend, the Earl of Leicester (for whose Father he had almost lost his life) by whose help, he got them called to the Star-chamber. Ore tenus, where they were for this conspiracy convicted, fined and imprisoned. The fame, or rather the infamy of this matter specially before their conviction was far and diversely spread, according as the Reporters favoured or disfavoured either: and the friends of each side had learned their tale so perfect, that many long time after, held the first impression they had received, notwithstanding the censure and sentence in the starchamber. Part whereof being, that the Knight should publicly acknowledge how he had slandered the Archbishop, which he did in words conceived to that purpose accordingly, yet his friends gave out, that all the while he carried a long Whetstone hanging out at the Pocket of his sleeve, so conspicuous, as men understood his meaning was to give himself the lie, which he would not in another matter have taken of any man. But thus the Bishop had a Conquest which he had no great comfort of, and lived but few years after it, and the Knight had a foil that he would not seem much daunted with, and lived to have part of his fine released by his majesty's clemency; but yet he tossed up and down all his life without any great contentment, from Wiltshire into Wales, and thence to the Isle of Man, a while to Chelsey, but little to Yorkshire where his stay should have been, so that of this story I could collect many documents, both for Bishops and Knights, but that I shun prolixity in a matter no way pleasing. Howbeit because one P. R. or R. P. for he can turn his name as Mountebank turns his Capp, in his Epistle before the Resolution (a Book much praised by Sir Edwin Sand, hath a scoff after his manner at this Hostess of Doncaster; I would pray him but to peruse the Life of St. Bernard, not that of their lying Legend, but that which unworthily perhaps goeth among his most worthy works, written by William Abbot in five Books. There he shall find in the third Chapter of his first Book, how that same maidenly Saint was subject to the like manner of scandal: first, of a young woman lying by him in naked bed, half a night when himself was not 30 year old, and yet we must believe he touched her not; and next of his Hostess also offering three timesin one night to come to his Bed, and he crying out each time, Latrones, Latrones, thieves▪ thieves, which our Bishop had much more cause to have cried, and had he but remembered it, as I doubt not but he had read it, he might peradventure have dissolved the pack with it. To utter mine own conceit frankly, if parson's conjecture were true, that by human frailty this Prelate had in his younger days been too familiar with this woman, which is said to pass but as a venial sin among those of his Profession, yet was the Knights practise very foul, and the Lords censure very just that condemned him: for I heard Judge Anderson, a learned and stout Judge, condemn one for a Rape, upon the Oath of a Woman (notwithstanding, the man affirmed, and the Woman denied not, but she had often in former times yielded herself to his lust) because it seemed she had repented that course of life, in betaking her to a Husband. So my Lord, if he had once such a fault, yet now that the fault had left him, as well as he the fault, had just cause to complain, and the knight's practice was blame-worthy to seek to entrap him thereby to the spoil of the Church and disgrace of his calling. And the Archbishop did much noblier to hazard this obloquy of some idle tongues then to have incurred the greater scandal of betraying his Church. To conclude therefore, I wish all Squires and all Knights to be fuller of reverence toward Bishops and Archbishops, and not to oppose or contest with them. The play at Chess, a Game not devised for or by fools may teach, that the Bishops due place is nearest the King, and though some Knight can leap better over the pawn's heads, yet ofttimes he leaps short, where the Bishop's power, if you cross it, reacheth the length of the whole Province.   

Doctor John Piers.  
Of this Doctor John Piers, who lived and died a moft reverent Prelate, I must, to give him the greater commendation, do like those, that when they will enforce them to leap their farthest, go back the contrary way some part of the ground, and by little and little amending their pace, at last overleap the mark themselves had designed, so shall I look back into some part of his life, and show first how unlikely he was to come to such high honour and place as he died in. For although he was a Scholar towardly enough in his youth, of good wit, and not the meanest birth, having a Gentleman of good sort to his Brother: yet hasting to a competent ftay of life, he accepted of a small Benefice in the country, as I take it near Oxford, and there was in great hazard to have drowned all those excellent gifts that came after to be so well esteemed and rewarded in him: there first he was enforced to keep mean and rustical Company, that Company enticed him to the German fashion, even then grown too common in England, to sit whole nights in a tippling house at Ale and Cakes, as Ennius & Cato are noted, of the former of whom Horace saith, Ennius ipse pater nunquam nisi potus ad arma prosiluit dicenda, and of the latter Martial saith,  
Quod nintio gauds noctem producere vino  
Ignosco vitium forte Catonis habes.  
Howbeit this Gentleman never met with such a disgrace by such company as the Parson of Limmington had, whom our countryman Sir Amias Pawlet about a drunken fray set in the Stocks, and yet after he proved both Archbishop of York, and one of the greatest Cardinals of Christendom. Neither do I bring these examples to lessen this fault, as if I were to leave some aspersion hereof upon him, my purpose is nothing less, for I am rather of that gentleman's mind, that having by Fatherly indulgence tolerated the humour of gaming and wenching in his son, disinherited him for drinking, saying of the first, if he had wit he would not lose much by it: of the second, that in time for his own ease he would leave it; but of the third he said, he would prove the elder the viler, and hardly ever amend it. Now therefore that I have showed you how this Bishop was in danger by this fault, let me also show how he was freed from it. Being once against preparing, as well himself as others for receiving the holy Communion, and making choice of a discreet Confessor, before whom he might pour out his soul, a custom as pitifully abused in those days, as disused in these, he declared to him by the way this disposition of his to company and drinking. The Preacher like a true spiritual Father indeed, no less▪ learnedly then zealously, laying before him the enormity of such a Custom, did earnestly dehort him from it, affirming to him, that though every particular excess in that kind, did not reach to a habit, or height of mortal sin, as one act of Adultery, murder, or false witness doth, yet if it should grow to a habit, it were not only an ugly scandal in that profession, but would draw also as bad sins as itself with it. Behold a comfortable example, how where nature is weak, grace can strengthen it; upon this grave admonition, he left first the vice, and after the Company, and following his study more industriously than before at the University, he ascended worthily the degrees of Doctor and Deane, and Bishop and Archbishop, and lived all his life not only continent, but abstinent: of his continence, my author hath said sufficient, of his abstinency this may be one proof, that being sickly toward his end, he was so fearful to drink Wine though his stomach required it, that his Physician being a pleasant man, and loving a cup of Wine himself very well, was wont to fay to him sometimes, now if your Grace will call for a cup of Wine and drink to me, I warrant it will never hurt you.   

Doctor Matthew Hutton.  
I no sooner remember this famous and worthy Prelate, but methinks I see him in the chapel at White-Hall, Queen Elizabeth at the window in the closet, all the Lords of the Parliament spiritual and temporal about them, and then after his three curtsies that I hear him out of the Pulpit thundering this Text: The kingdoms of the Earth are mine, and I do give them to whom I will, and I have given them to Nebuchodonozor and his son, and his son's son: which Text, when he had thus produced, taking the sense rather than words of the Prophet, there followed first so general a murmur of one friend whispering to another, than such an erected countenance in those that had none to speak to, lastly so quiet a silence and attention in expectance of some strange Doctrine, where Text itself gave away kingdoms and sceptres, as I have never observed either before or since. But he, as if he had been a Jeremiah himself, and not an expounder of him, showed how there were two special causes of translating of kingdoms, the fullness of time and the ripeness of sin, that by either of these, and sometime by both, God in secret and just judgements transferred sceptres from kindred to kindred, from Nation to Nation at his good will and pleasure, & running over historically the great Monarchies of the world, as the kingdom of Egypt and after of Israel swallowed up by the Assyrians, and the golden head of Nabuchodonozor, the same head cut off by the silver breast and arms of the Medes. and Perfians. Cyrus and Darius this silver consumed by the brazen belly, and this of the Grecians and Alexander, and that brass stamped to powder by the Iron legs of the Romans and Caesar. Then coming nearer home, he showed how oft our Nation had been a prey to foreigners, as first when we were all Britains subdued by these Romans, then, when the fullness of time and ripeness of our fin required it, subdued by the Saxons, after this a long time prosecuted and spoiled by the Danes, finally conquered and reduced to perfect subjection by the Normans whose posterity▪ continued in great prosperity till the days of her Majesty, who for peace, for plenty, for glory, for continuance, had exceeded them all, that had lived to change all her counsellors but one, all officers twice or thrice, some Bishops four times, only the uncertainty of succession gave hopes to foreigners to attempt fresh invasions and breed fears in many of her Subjects of new Conquest, the only way than said he that is in policy left to quase those hopes and to assuage these fears were to establish the succession. He noted that Nero was specially hated for wishing to have no Successor, that even Augustus was the worse beloved for appointing an ill man to his Successor, and at last insinuating as far as he durst the nearness of blood of our present sovereign, he said plainly, that the expectations and presages of all writers went Northward, naming without any circumlocution Scotland, which said he, if it prove an error, yet will it be found a learned error. When he had finished this Sermon there was no man that knew Q. Elizabeth's disposition, but imagined that such a speech was as welcome as salt to the eyes, or to use her own word to pin up her winding sheet before her face, so to point out her Successor and urge her to declare him, wherefore we all expected that she would not only have been highly offended, but in some present speech have showed her displeasure. It is a principle not to be despised, Qui nescit dissimulare nescit regnare, she considered perhaps the extraordinary auditory, she supposed many of them were of his opinion, she might suspect some of them had persuaded him to this motion, finally she ascribed so much to his years, to his place, to his learning, that when she opened the window we found ourselves all deceived; for very kindly and calmly without show of offence (as if she had but waked out of some sleep) she gave him thanks for his very learned Sermon. Yet when she had better confidered the matter, and recollected herself in private, she sent two counsellors to him with a sharp message, to which he was glad to give a patient answer. But in this time that the Lords and Knights of Parliament and others were full of this Sermon, a great peer of the realm that was then newly recovered of an impediment in his hearing (I would he did hear no worse now) being in great liking of the Archbishop for this Sermon, prayed me to prove my credit with his Grace to get a Copy thereof, and to use his name if need were, alleging that impediment which caused though he were present, that he carried away little of it, I did so and withal told how myself had stood so incommodiously by means of the great press, as I heard it not well, but was fain to take much of it on trust on others' men's reports, who varied so, as some I was sure did him wrong. The Archbishop welcomed me very kindly, and made me sit with him a pretty while in his Lodging, but in fine he told me plainly he durst give no Copy, for that Sir John Fortescue and Sir John Wolley (as I remember had been with him before from the Queen with such a greeting as he scant knew if he were a prisoner or a free man, and that the speech being already ill taken, the writing might exasperate that which already was exulcerate so he denied my suit, but in so loving a fashion as from that time to his end I did greatly honour him, and laid up in my heart many good lessons I learned of him, and it was not long ere the Queen was so well pacified, that he went down with the Presidency of York in the vacancy (Half against his will) committed to him. Till afterward the Lord Burleigh now Earl of Exeter, of whose courage fidelity and religious heart the Queen had great assurance, was made the Lord President.  
But to return to this Archbishop; as he was in place, so was he in learning, and especially in reading, not second to any in his time, insomuch as in Cambridge long since, he was one of the chosen disputants before the Queen, and a Jesuit 26. years since disgracing our English students, as neglecting and not reading the fathers, excepts this Matthew Hutton, and one famous Matthew more, and of this Hutton he saith, Qui unus in paucis versare patres dicitur, who is one of those few that searcheth the fathers: for matters of the world I can say but that that is known to the world; his eldest son is a Knight of fair living, and now or lately sheriff of Yorkshire, and a man of very good reputation. One other son he had, that had an ill life, brought to a worse end, his name was Luke Hutton, so valiant that he feared not men nor Laws, and for a robbery done on St. Luke's day, for names sake he died as bad a death, I hope with a better mind than the thief, of whom St. Luke writes, that he bade our Saviour, if he were Christ to save himself and him. The Archbishop herein showed the constancy and severity worthy of his place; for he would not endeavour to save him (as the world thought he easily might) deserving herein the praise of Justice, which Eli wanted, that was too indulgent of his son's voices, and having hereby no blot, but such as may sort him with the great monarch of this last age, King Philip, with two famous Warriors of the old Romans, Manlius and Brutus, and with the highest Priest even Aaron. His own death was more happy than his life, to die Satur annorum, full of years, and to see and leave peace upon Israel.   

Doctor Thoby Matthews.  
The praises of a friend are partial or suspicious, of strangers uncertain and not judicious, of courtly persons complemental and mannerly, of Learned and wise men more precious, of a Prince most cordial and comfortable; but of an adversary, though often dangerous, yet never undeserved: what exceptions then can be taken to his just praises, whom friends commend, strangers admire, Nobles embrace, the Learned affect and imitate, his sovereigns have advanced, and even his enemy and emulous cannot choose but extol and approve. For Edmond Campion in his Pamphlet of the ten reasons, which the Catholics count an Epitome of all their Doctrine, labouring to prove, that the Fathers were all Papists, to give the uttermost credit he can to his assertion, saith, that Thoby Matthew confessed to him so much. Pertentavimus (saith he) aliquando familiariter Thobiam Mattheum, qui nunc in concionibus dominatur, quem propter bonas arts & virtutum semina dileximus. We did once in familiar sort sound Thoby Matthews opinion, he that now domineers in your Pulpits, whom for his good learning and seeds of virtue, we esteemed &c. This then is the testimonial of their Champion concerning his excellent gifts 27 years since; if this commendation were then due, as indeed except it had been very due, that Pen would never have given it, what may we think of him now, that for preaching may say with St. Paul, I have laboured more than ye all, for reading lets no Book pass, which for author, matter, or wit hath any fame, who hath so happy a memory that no occasion slips him, whether premeditate or sudden, either in public or private, to make use of that he hath read. But it is worth the hearing, which he answers to this calumniation, as well as commendation, which answer being in a long and learned Latin Sermon, Ad Clerum, I will not wrong so much to abbreviate in this place, but only for that same point. Qui in concionibus domininatur, his sharp and modest return, I could not let pass being but a line. Neque enim nostrum ministerium est dominatio, neque dominatio vest: ministerium. For neither is our ministry any Lordly Authority, nor your Lordly command a true ministry. But his Reading, Learning & preaching is so well known to his Highness, as I do but lose labour in recounting either general or particular praises thereof. I will descend now to some personal matters, which though commonly they are more captious for the writer, yet are they withal more pleasing and acceptable to the Reader. He was born of honest rather then honourable parents in the City of Bristol, which City, standing in two Counties, Somerset and Gloucester, might move both Counties hereafter to challenge him for their countryman, as divers Cities of Greece did Homer, if himself would not sometime clear it, by saying that he is a Somersetshire man, or to write it as he spoke sportingly a Zomersetshire man, showing a towardliness in his very infancy to learning, he was set very young to school at Wells; but overrunning his schoolmasters Doctrine with his docility, he went quickly to Oxford, yet ere he went, he had a marvellous misfortune; for even as if Satan had foreseen that he should one day prove some excellent instrument of his service that must bruise the serpent's head, he forgot not to attempt his part Insidiari calcaneo, procuring him in a plain easy way so terrible a fall, as broke his foot, and small of his leg and ankle almost to pieces. But if the strong man procured this harm, a stronger granted the remedy; for he was soon after so soundly cured, as there remained after, no sign or scar, no effect or defect. either for fight or use of this rupture. After his coming to Oxford, he took all his degrees so ripe in learning, and so young in age, as was half a miracle. There it seems also the colleges strove for him, he removed so oft, till he rested in that for which he was ordained a principal Vessel, Christ's Church; during his abode, there being Dean of ChristsChurch, it was hard to say, whether he was more respected for his great Learning, Eloquence, Authority, countenance given by the Queen, and the great Ones: or beloved, for his sweet conversation, friendly disposition, bounty, that even then showed itself, and above all a cheerful sharpness of wit, that so sauced all his words and behaviour, that well was he in the University, that could be in the Company of Thoby Matthew, and this name grew so popular and plausible, that they thought it a derogation to their love, to add any title of Doctor or Deane to it; but if they spoke of one of his men, as he was ever very well attended, they would say Mr. Matthew, or Mr. Thoby Matthews man, yea even since he was Bishop, and Archbishop, some cannot leave that custom yet. Among some special men that enjoyed, and joyed most in his friendship and company in Oxford, and in remembrance of it, since they were sundered, was Doctor Eedes, late Dean of Worcester, one whose company I loved, as well as he loved his Thoby Matthew. He for their farewell, upon his remove to Durham, intending first to go with him from Oxford, but one days' Journey, was so betrayed by the sweetness of his Company, and their old friendship, that he not only brought him to Durham; but for a pleasant penance wrote their whole Journey in Latin verse, which Poem himself gave to me, and told me so many pretty apothegms of theirs in their younger years, as might make a Book almost by itself. And because I wrote only for your highness' pleasure, I will hazard my Lord's displeasure to repeat one or two of his, of one two hundred, that Doctor Eedes when he lived, could remember, being vicechancellor in Oxford, some slight matters & men coming before him, one was very importunate to have them stay for his council: who is of your council saith the vicechancellor, (saith he) Mr. Leasteed, alas said the vicechancellor, no man can stand you in less stead, no remedy saith the other, necessity hath no Law. Indeed quoth he, no more I think hath your councillor. In a like ruatter another was to be bound in a bond very like to be forfeited, and came in haste to offer it, saying he would be bound if he might be taken, yes saith he, I think you will be taken, what's your name, Cox saith the party, and so pressed as the manner is to come into the Court, make him more room there said he, let coxcomb in. Such facetious passages as these that are as delightful to the hearer, as a fair course at tilt is to the beholders, where the staff breaks both at the point, and counterbuff even to the hand, such I say a man might collect a volume of, not at the second hand but at the first, that had been so much in his company, and so oft at his board as I have been, but that I must keep good manners, remembering the Greek Proverb, {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} Odi memorem compotorem. And if your Highness had a fancy to hear more of them, Mr. Doctor Dromond can as well relate them as myself, both of us having met in his grace's dish sometimes, and tasted of this sauce. Yet this kind of pleasantness that I repeat as one of his praises, himself will most seriously check in himself, sometime as his fault and infirmity, which he confesses he is enforced to use, sometime as a recreation of his wearied spirits, after more painful and serious studies, and though in these conceits, the wit might seem to labour, as much as in these gravest, and had need to carry as it were, a good bent to send them so smartly as they come from him ordinarily: yet methinks it may be fitly compared to a bow that will endure bending the contrary way, and thereby come to cast the better in his right bent, or by a more homely comparison, to a true and tough labourer in our country, that having sweat at hard labour all the week, asketh no better refreshing, then to sweat as fast with dancing about the maypole, or running at Base, or wrestling upon the Holiday. Wherefore let himself call it his fault, as I have heard him oft, and say he knows such nugacity becomes not his place, and lament that nature and custom have so framed him, that when he ceases to be pleasant at his meat, he must cease to be; for my part, I' speak frankly, I will love this fault in him, if it be a fault, and be glad if I can follow it, having learned an old rule of my mother in law, At meat be glad, for sin be sad; and I will say hereafter for myself,  
Haud metuam si jam nequeo defendere crimen  
Cum tanto commune viro.  
Or, as upon no unlike occasion, I wrote ten years since to Dr. Eeds.  
Though M●s love men's lines and lives to scan,  
He saith he thinks me no dishonest man;  
Yet one great fault of mine he oft rehearses,  
Which is, I am too full of toys and verses:  
True 〈◊〉 true it is, my fault I grant;  
Yet when thou shalt thy greatest virtues vaunt,  
I know some worthy spirits one might entice  
To leave that greatest virtue for this vice.  
But if any will be so stoical, as to make this confession of my Lord's grace (which is indeed of grace) to serve them for an accusation, to give him thereby the nickname of Nugax, given 500 years past to Radulphus Archbishop of Canterbury, and successor of the great Anselm, as is noted in the Catalogue p. 38. I should think them unjust and undiscreet to stir up new emulation between Canterbury and York; but rather I might compare him with one of his own predecessors in Durham, Cuthbert Tunstall, p. 532. of the same book, well worth the reading and remembering. In the mean time let me lay their censorious mood with this verse.  
Qui sic nugatur tractantem ut seria vincat,  
Hic tractaturus seria quantus erat.  
But to draw to an end, I will tell one act of his of double piety, done not long since. He made a journey, accompanied with a Troop, fit for his calling, to Bristol, to see his mother, who was then living, but not able to travel to him; after much kindness showed to her, and much bounty to the City, he went to visit his other mother of Oxford, and coming near the Town with that troop of his retinue, and friends to the water, it came into his mind how that time 40 year, or more, he passed the same water, as a young poor scholar, going to Oxford, remembering Jacob's words, In baculo meo transivi Jordanem istum, &c. with my staff I passed over this Jordan, and now I pass over again with these troops, he was so moved therewith, that he alighted from his horse, and going apart, with devout tears of joy and thankfulness, he kneeled down and used some like words.  
It may seem pity that a man of so sweet and mild disposition should have any cross, but he that sends them knows what is best for his. He hath had one great domestical cross, though he bears it wisely, not in his wife, for she is the best reported and reputed of her sort I think in England, and they live together by St. Paul's rule. Uientes hoc seculo.  
But I mean such a cross as David had in his son Absalon, for though he gave both consent and commission to prosecute him, yet nature overcame displeasure, and forced him to cry, Absalon my son, my son, I would I might suffer for thee or in thy stead my son, my son. For indeed this son of his whom he and his friends gave over for lost, yea worse than lost, was likely for learning, for memory, for sharpness of wit and sweetness of behaviour to have proved another Thoby Matthew, neither is his case so desperate, but that if he would belief Matthew better than Thoby, I would think yet there were hope to reclaim him.    

Of DURHAM,  

and the present Bishop thereof Dr. James.  
It is noted of Dionysius of Sicily that he had no care of any religion that was professed in his country, as neither had his father before him, making but a sport to rob their Gods, taking away Aesculapius' Beard of Gold, because his father Apollo had no Beard, and Jupiter's golden cloak saying that it was too heavy for summer and too cold for Winter, yet used he to confer sometimes with Philosophers, and have the choicest of them and give them honourable entertainment, which honour at last bred him this commodity, that losing his crown he learned to bear poverty not only without dismay but with some disport. The like I may say of a late great Earl of this realm, Son of a great Duke, who though he made no great conscience to spoil the Church livings no more than did his father, yet for his reputation and perhaps for his recreation, he would have some choice and excellent men for his chaplains of both Universities, as Doctor Thoby Matthew now Archbishop of York, Doctor John Still Bishop of Bath and Wells, and this Prelate that I am now to speak of Doctor James than Deane of Christchurch and this hope of comfort came to his Lordship thereby, that if it pleased God to impart any mercy to him (as his mercy endureth for ever) it was by the special ministry of this man, who was the last of his Coat that was with him in his sickness. Concerning this bishopric it is formerly noted by mine Author, that it was once dissolved by Act of Parliament in the Minority of King Edward the sixth, what time the two new Dukes of Somerset and Northumberland like the soldiers that cast lots for Christ's garment divided between them Patrimonium Crucifixi, namely, the two good bishoprics of Bath and Durham, one being designed as a seat for the Western Duke, the other for the Northern; and whereas by an old Metamorphofis the Bishop of Durham had been Earl of Northumberland, now by a new Apotheosis the Duke of Northumberland would have been Bishop of Durham: But qui despexit de coelo deribedat eos. That visible hand that wrote in the wall while Balthasar was quaffing in the holy Vessels, that hand though invisible weighed these petty monarchs in the balance of God's judgements, found them too light; and because they should not grow too long, they were both cut shorter by the head: the bishoprics restored to what they now are by Queen Mary, one being in substance, the other by accident of leaden Mines, two of the best bishoprics of England, and as worthy Bishops they have had, especially these two of them, namely two Matthews are spoken of in the Title of York. There remains now this third, who having had yet scant a year and a day as they say, I have the less to speak of as of a Bishop. But that examining by the infallible square set down by St. Paul to Timothy chap. 3. for choice of a Bishop he will be found as worthily chosen as any: For his Learning it may be sufficient to say he was Deane of Christchurch, which as I have said formerly attains not to but choice men, and there are sermons of his extant in Print that testify no less. For hospitality which is a special praise of a Bishop, he showed in Oxford his disposition thereto in that less hability, and for both at once at the coming of divers great States, and lastly fifteen years past of the Queen herself before whom he preached, and to whom he gave so good entertainment, as her Majesty commended the order and manner of it long after; which commendation of well setting out and ordering a feaft, I should have thought of the less moment, if I did not find in Plutarch in the life of Paulus Aemylius a great Captain and conqueror, and otherwise a man of much virtue and temperance, the well ordering of a feast to be esteemed not one of his least commendations. But I will conclude with a greater and more worthy commendation; and which I could wish, as it is exemplar, so it might be followed by all ensuing Bishops. For whereas Durham house had been granted to Queen Elizabeth only during her life, when few thought that such a house would have proved too little for her estate. It fortuned after she was Queen this house to be neglected according to the proverb not unfit to be applied to his Learning that first built it: Praestat esse caput asini quam cauda leonis. Among other rooms the chapel was not only profaned but even defaced This good Bishop the first thing he doth at his coming repairs this chapel, and and furnisheth it within in comely and costly sort; for which good mind and act, I doubt not but God will build him a house, toward which he shall ever have my best wishes.    

Of Carlisle,  

and the Bishop Dr. Henry Robinson.  
THis bishopric, as my Author hath touched page 540. and 543. hath been so fortunate to have yielded two singular examples of fidelity and loyalty of prelates to their sovereign, one of especial mark worthy to be cannonized with the Patron of Venice. St. Mark was also named marks commended here by my Author, and no less worthily extolled by Mr. Samuel Daniel, in his excellent Poem of the civil wars of Lancaster and York. The other was Bishop Oglethorpe, who when all the Bishops of England refused to crown Elizabeth because of her Religion, yet he being himself of a contrary Religion performed it, neither of these received their reward in this world that they were worthy. marks being removed from Carlisle to Samos in Greece, viz. out of God's blessing into a warm sun as the saying is, Oglethorpe enduring deprivation because even at the Coronation he would not omit the ceremony of elevation, howbeit it is supposed if he had not so suddenly after died of the grief, her Majesty would have had some special respect of him above all fellows, which I speak not upon mere conjecture, but upon some speech of her Majesty used to the present Bishop that now is, for when she received his homage, she gave many gracious words to him of her good opinion, for his learning integrity, and sufficiency to the place, concluding that she must ever have a care to furnish that place with a worthy man; for his sake said she that set my crown first on my head, and many words to like effect, as the Bishop himself hath partly told me. He seems a man of great gravity, and temperance very mild in his speech, but not of so strong a constitution of body as his countenance doth promise; but having seen his Sea never, and himself but seldom, I must content me of him with this short relation.    

Of CHESTER;  

and the present Bishop, Dr. Flood.  
OF this new bishopric, and new Lord Bishop also I have very little to say, and I need say the less, because your highness hath heard him Preach often, and very well; I call him a new Lord Bishop, because though he were a Bishop before, yet was he not thereby a Lord of the Parliament House; howbeit his Title before sounded to the vulgar ears more universal than either Rome or Constantinople, namely Bishop of Man: but from thence he was translated to Chester the chief City of that Shire, that some call chief of men, which Shire having a special temporal blessing (to abound) not with milk and honey, as the Land of Promise, but with milk and salt, a matter more necessary in sacrifice; I wish it may also flow in spiritual blessings, and doubt not but that by the irrigation rather than inundation of this flood they shall increase in them, and as our Saviour commands to join peace with salt, and especially I wish that blessing to their Neighbours beyond the salt water, I mean in Ireland, who though they have milk, and are so weak in faith they cannot yet digest hard meat, yet for want of this salt and peace, they make many go of Pilgrimage to Westchester against their wills from both realms, some of whom the Bishop of Chester was wont to entertain in kind sort, as myself can testify, and this Bishop I hear doth herein succeed also his worthy Predecessor Doctor Vaughan.     
THus have you, most highly esteemed and most entirely beloved Prince, this unworthy supply of mine to the worthy work of a more worthy man. It is grown into greater length than I expected, by reason I took some kind of pleasure with the pain of writing hereof, supposing I was all the while telling a story as it were in your highness' presence and hearing. Now if any that favour not the persons I write of, nor the purpose I write for, happen to sport at this my fashion of writing to your highness, as Tigranes jested at Lucullus Army, saying, if he came as an ambassador his train was to great, if as a warrior, his Troop was too small. So if they say this Treatise for an Epistle is too long, for a History too little, I will also hope that this whether long Epistle or short relation, shall have like success in your highness' approbation, as that contemptible Army had to conquer their contemners.  
FINIS.  

An alphabetical Table according to the surnames of those Bishops who are discoursed of in the foregoing Relation.  
Bishop's Names. Place. Page. Andrews Chichester 140 Babington Worcester 128 Bancrost Canterbury 10 Barlow Bath and Wells 106 Barlow Rochester 147 Bennet Hereford 138 Bilson Winchester 71 Chatterton Lincoln 81 Coldwell Salisbury 70 Cooper Winchester 34 Cotton Salisbury 93 Cotton Exeter 124 Day Winchester 67 Dove Peterborough 153 Elmer London 14 Fletcher London 22 Flood Chester 209 Gardiner Winchester 42 Godwin Bath and wells 110 Godwin Landaff 164 Grindall Canterbury 5 Heaton Ely 76 Hutton York 186 James Durham 203 Jewel Salisbury 85 King Bath and wells 97 Matthew York 169 Overton Coventry & Lichfield 85 Parker Canterbury 1 Piers York 182 Ravis London 31 Robinson Carlisle 206 Rud St. David's 159 Sands York 172 Scory Hereford 130 Still Bath and wells 118 Thompson Gloucester 152 Thornbury Bristol 156 Vaughan London 29 Underhill Oxenford 148 Watson Chichester 140 Westphaling Hereford 134 Wickham Elder Winchester 35 Wickham Younger Winchester 65 White Winchester 59 Whiteguist Canterbury 7 Young York 169  
FINIS.