THE LIFE and DEATH OF Mr WILLIAM Moor, Late fellow of Caius college, and Keeper of the University-Library: As it was delivered in a Sermon preached at his funeral-solemnity, April 24. 1659.  
In St Mary's Church in CAMBRIDGE; by THO. SMITH, B. D. his successor.  
HINC ◆ Lucem ◆ ET ◆ pocula ◆ SACRA  
Printed by John Field, Printer to the University of Cambridge. 1660.   

To My ever-honoured Friend, CHARLES SCARBOROUGH, doctor of physic, and the rest of Mr Moor's pupils.  
Most dear friends and fellow-pupils;  
I Here present unto you a description of our tutor, as it was taken in shorthand. I believe that Mr Smith (towards the end of whose Sermon this was inserted) would have been persuaded to have printed this whole Sermon, if M●Moor's executors had not told him, how they observed, that in such discourses the only thing regarded by the Reader is the life of the person, especially in these times, wherein few mind any thing but news.  
I remember that when our tutor had read over a book writ by D H. he said, That if he had been to write a tract on that subject, he would have said the same things with that author. And therefore I here make bold to send you also the last words of Dr Hammond, which are newly come to my hands, because I have heard some (who were intimate with them both) say, that they knew no men more like in judgement and temper then M▪ Moor and that holy personage: So that if you desire our tutor's works, you may be pleased to read this doctors, till his shall be published; which I hope some of his pupils will do ere long, and not leave all the toil to Mr Smith.  
I have transcribed many of them, but am leaving England; and so must commend them to you, and you to God: beseeching you to pray for me, and to look upon these not only as the last words of my tutor and Dr Hammond, but of me also, unless you hear further from the unworthiest of your fellow-pupills,  
Charles Bertie. Middle-Temple, May 8. Anno CAROLI II. 12.   

THE LIFE and DEATH OF Mr William Moor.  
Reverend and beloved;  
BE pleased to suffer me (who never yet commended any man out of the pulpit) to say a little of this Mr William Moor, newly interred here 
* Not in Caius' college, as he desired, because Mr Dell would not suffer him to be buried by the Liturgy, which was his last request.  before us, under that very stone whereon he was wont to kneel down in prayers to Almighty God.  
He was a person, who had that of Solomon continually before his eyes, Eccles. 9 10. What ever good thy hand findeth to do, do it with all thy might; for there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom in the grave, whither thou goest: or rather, he had the life of the Blessed Jesus in his daily meditation and practice. You can scarce name the good or piece of knowledge or wisdom, wherein he was not eminent: one of the ablest that ever I met with, not only in the knotty pieces of Divinity, Cases of conscience, and chronology, and all ingenuous sciences, especially History and all kind of Antiquity (which, if any thing, must bring the men of this age to their wits again, when all is done) but also in Anatomy, physic, mathematics, and the like. Those who are the most eminent for all these now in England being of his education.  
But above all I must admire his piety to God, signified in every particular that I could observe. And I think I had more the happiness of his company (and so greater opportunities to note his behaviour) of late years, than any here present, except his own family, having been with him almost every day for these seven years' last past. Cardinal Bellarmin (in his second book of Dying well, and eighth chapter) is so ingenuous as to blame those Romanists, who begin with their Sacraments when they have done with their physic; and saith, Sacramentum conferretur aegrotis quando periculosè aegrotare incipiunt; that 'tis a very dangerous custom (though it is seldom otherwise) that men send not for the Priest till the Physician hath given them over. This our friend (quite contrary to them, and such as Asa) sought to the LORD first, and then to the Physician. To the LORD, and that (after a strict examination of his soul) in those two main parts of divine worship, Prayer and the Holy Eucharist. No sooner had the disease seized upon him in an extraordinary manner, but straight he spoke of the sixth chapter of St John's Gospel, and those {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} mysteria, and told me and divers others, that he was of his good friend Mr Herbert Thorndikes mind concerning that chapter, viz. That it must needs be a prediction of the Holy Eucharist: which the first Nicene Council thought the most necessary viaticum; and after them the whole Christian world (not excluding Calvin, Zanchy, and others of the Reformed) till some late novelists arose: who would persuade us that Christ had no true Church upon earth before these times. And he received the body and blood of our Saviour with expressions of as much outward reverence as ever I beheld, (which several here present can witness) and doubtless his external deportment was but a necessary consequence of his inward devotion. Which also appeared by his zeal and frequency in prayer to Almighty God: not omitting to humble himself in a decent {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} dedicate to that purpose (as you know the Primitive Christians did) through every day of his life, even when he was not able to go, but crept and was led to it: not omitting the very last day of his pilgrimage, when he could not without help move his foot over the threshold.  
As he testified his reverence to God in doing, so in suffering. Though his sickness was very painful (caused by an ulcer in his bladder) yet who ever heard him complain in that or any other trouble? All that I heard of it from his mouth, was this; When one told him that he could not but be in great pain; he answered, My Saviour was in far greater pain for me. In his sickness he spent the most of his time in reading and meditating on the passion of Christ, desiring to throw aside other learning, and to know nothing else but Jesus Christ and him crucified: and this knowledge was his ballast kept him steady and courageous; for he never abhorred any thing more than the humours of this age, simulation and dissimulation; so that if ever any man had a window into his heart, that all the world might know his most secret thoughts, Mr Moor had. In these changing times wherein men pride themselves in menstrua fide & anniversaria (as Tertullian speaks) in a religion that altars as oft as the moon, or take up with the year at most (and then persecute their neighbours for not being as very Protei as themselves) who dare whisper that Mr Moor was not constant to that religion, which upon a strict rational examination he took up in his younger days? sticking close to that faith into which he was baptised, the true ancient, Catholic, and Apostolic Church of England, whose doctrine is contained in the 39 Articles, the Book of Homilies, and our 
* He was the last who read it in Caius' college-chapel.  liturgy, which he looked upon as the only probable medium to reunite the shattered pieces of decaying Christendom. In this Religion he lived, and in this he died; commending his soul (in my hearing) to God with a loud voice, in those our prayers which 
a De modo orandi. Edit. Maire, p 115.  Erasmus, and 
b Precum. p. 302. fol.  Gilbertus Cognatus say, do savour of an Apostolical spirit; and while both his hands and eyes were lifted up to heaven, his soul peaceably departed. Thus died Mr Moor, as David, in a good old age, threescore and ten; full of days (I will not say riches and honour, but) full of that which David saith is far beyond them, peace of conscience, and joy in the holy Ghost.  
Shall I tell you how he added to his true faith virtue, 2 Pet. 1. 5? as that word signifies courage and constancy in well-doing, and conforming our actions to the rule which our consciences approve. He would oft say, That if men would generally take courage, and show themselves bare-faced (without mask or vizard) and profess what they do indeed believe; it were the only way to secure themselves and all others, and make those few that be factiously bent unable to hurt them; but that foolish fear hath always betrayed, and brought evil upon men, from the time of the gnostics till now.  
To this virtue he added patience, an admirable submission to all manner of superiors, though perverse; a most meek and quiet spirit under what governors (Ecclesiastical or Civil) soever. Which I note the rather, because I see some men write large books, and many disputations, to prove that the members of the old English Church are not to be suffered in any civil society: which books and disputations are (in my opinion) far better confuted by such lives as Mr Moor's, then by volumes.  
And to patience how did he add brotherly kindness! A true Samaritan. Every man was his neighbour; loving to all, I cannot say to his enemies, because I never heard he had any, for he walked so far from offence toward God and man, that he attracted the love or wonder rather, even of the froward. And though in these unhappy times difference in religion (as 'tis the nature of it) hath caused a vast difference in most men's affections, yet I cannot hear of any one man that spoke one single word against Mr Moor; nor do I remember that I have heard him speak ill of any one man or woman; but I have heard him in general blame the men of this age for pulling down— and looking into other men's faults more than their own. He would say, that he had oft heard an apt proverb, After a good dinner, let us sit down and backbite our neighbours: the discourse of most men now adays being nothing else. And I confess I have seen him very oft (both in sickness and health) upon the mention of schism, heresy, or sacrilege, shake his head, and profess that he would not have had the least finger in the ruin of the Church of England for a million.  
But let us go to the college. Ask those who were his contemporaries in Gonvile and Caius concerning him, and you shall hear them (beside all this) wonder at his contentedness, his joy in the most private condition (the most mean and toilsome employment) from first to last. Though he had as many fair opportunities for preferment offered him as any man, yet he slighted them all, trampling this world under his feet: saying, that since he was but a passenger here, it was a folly not to behave himself as a traveller in an inn; a madness to set his mind on such things as there is no use of at his journey's end; adding, that God sent no man hither to get money.  
His contemporaries will tell you, how far he was from disturbing the peace of the Society wherein he lived, from beginning or fomenting any faction or sedition in the House. That he never asked any Fellow for his vote, nor politicly (as the custom is) inquired before hand what other men would do in any election, nor spoke one word for any pupil of his own either to get a scholarship or fellowship (and yet even lately he had five or six senior fellows at once in Caius college his own pupils) but he went on his own road, chose that man whom he in his soul thought fittest for the place, fall how it would; & so his vote oft stood alone, doing no man any good. And though some laughed at his singularity, he had his reward within and above, which told him that a time would come ere long, when it would be declared by strange effects, that wealth was never the greatest happiness, nor worldly policy the best counsellor, that to lie and forswear for a good cause was no piety, and to do wickedness for the glory of God was ill worshipping him. In a word, that there would come (as sure as that God is true) a day of visitation; when we shall all be judged not by the flexible rules of our factions or interests (non est judicium Dei sicut hominum) but by the straight regularities of the Word of God, by the rules of S. Paul, and justice and charity, by the laws of the nation and our local statutes.  
And thus he brought up his pupils, not choosing the richest (such as be ordinarily the tulips of the University, stay a while, only to show themselves & see fashions) but such as were of the choicest parts though never so poor, and such as he thought he was likely to do most good upon: with whom he took more pains usually in one day than many do in a month, knowing that doing good to them he did good not only to single persons, but sometimes to whole families, whole parishes, whole Counties; & he made it his business to principle them in true Religion as well as learning. And now here be pleased to behold and admire the strange blessing of God upon his precepts and example; though I know many scores of his pupils (some in this and some in other nations) yet I never knew any who continued not firm to those good principles which his tutor Moor instilled into him (quo semel est imbuta recens-) notwithstanding all the temptations of schism and heresy, on the right and on the left, both from Rome and Amsterdam, {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman}, except only one.  
I should transgress the bounds (though not of your patience, yet I am sure) of the time, if I should tell you now of his alms, which are almost incredible. Where is the poor man from whom he turned his face? or where the poor pupil that ever he turned from the college for lack of money? and yet what alms he gave was in the most private manner he could devise. {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman}. how communicative was he? how ready to lend any thing he had, even the choicest of his books or Manuscripts, to any man in Town or country that would make good use of them.  
I must not stand to tell you what pains he took to collect our University Statutes (now scattered in many scarce legible Manuscripts) into one body, how he was cheerful without lightness, grave and serious without distrust, sorrowful for nothing but sin, delighting in nothing but doing good. And by that ye may trace his footsteps wherever he went: 'Tis well known that he was through his whole life a diligent collector & transcriber of the choicest Manuscripts which he could possibly purchase by love or money; All these he gave to Caius college. While he was in the University library, how diligent he was for the public good from first to last, what incredible pains he took there for you, and for how trifling a recompense ye all sufficiently know. And when the sharpness of his disease would not suffer him to frequent that place, he delivered to me a catalogue of all the Manuscripts in that library (except the Oriental) writ every word with his own hand; which I am to deliver into the public library, as soon as it is open again.  
But my strength faileth, and will not suffer me to tell you half the excellent things I have heard from him, seen by him: his modesty (he could scarce moderate an Act without blushing, even when his almond tree did flourish) his temperance and sobriety in diet and apparel, abating all superfluities, and even robbing himself to bestow upon the poor (Remembering the causal particle for: Matt. 25. 35. For I was hungered and ye gave me meat, for I was naked and ye clothed me) his retiredness, his contentedness, his humility— you see I can but name them; nor shall I need when they are known to most of you as well as to myself: especially to that numerous company of his pupils who had the happiness of the Queen of Sheba to be perpetually at the elbow of our Solomon.  
Ye who lamented him to his grave; give me leave to speak to every one of you (dear friends) particularly (as methought I heard him on his deathbed) in the words of the dying Roman. Non est amici defunctum vano ejulatu deflere, sed quae voluerit meminisse, quae mandaverit exequi, 'Tis not the part of a friend to bewail a dead friend with vain lamentation, but to remember what he advised and to perform what he commanded. There is not one of you who had any relation to him that were in the sad condition with most other Gentlemen whose follies are termed wisdom, who are applauded when they talk vainly, and are let alone when they do shameful things: No, every mother's child of you was as sure to meet with his portion of sage and sober counsel as of his diet. And (in your hearing) he oft lamented the misery of our English Gentry, who are commonly brought up to nothing but hawks and hounds, and know not how to bestow their time in a rainy day, and in the midst of all their plenty are in want of friends, necessary reproof, and most loving admonition.  
And now when the Preacher hath done all the use that most men make of such discourses as these (or indeed of any sermons) is to pass a censure. I doubt not but some of you will say I have spoke too much, others that I have said too little of him de quo praestat nihil quàm pauca dicere. And for the first, I confess I am so far of my reverend friend Dr Jeremy tailor's mind, as to be no friend to funeral sermons: but I know M● Moor was such a person, that if the Dr himself were in my stead this day, he would say far more of him than I have done: that he was a man of whom though I had said nothing, and though he have no tombstone here before you, yet he cannot want a monument or a remembrance while Caius college stands, while we have an University or public-library, of which we never before had such a custos; and I believe hereafter never shall.   

THE LAST WORDS Which were writ by the Reverend, Pious and Learned Dr HAMMOND: Being Two PRAYERS for the Peaceful resettlement of this Church and State.  

Prayer I.  
O Blessed Lord, who in thine infinite mercy didst vouchsafe to plant a glorious Church among us, and now in thy just judgement hast permitted our sins and follies to root it up; be pleased at last to resume thoughts of peace towards us, that we may do the like to one another. Lord, look down from heaven, the habitation of thy holiness, and behold the ruins of a desolated Church, and compassionate to see her in the dust. Behold her, O Lord, not only broken, but crumbled, divided into so many sects and fractions, that she no longer represents the Ark of the God of Israel (where the Covenant and the Manna were conserved) but the Ark of Noah, filled with all various sorts of unclean beasts: and to complete our misery and guilt, the spirit of division hath insinuated itself as well into our affections as our judgements; that badge of Discipleship which thou recommendedst to us, is cast off, and all the contrary wrath and bitterness, anger and clamour, called in to maintain and widen our breaches. O Lord, how long shall we thus violate and defame that Gospel of peace that we profess? how long shall we thus madly defeat ourselves, lose that Christianity which we pretend to strive for? O thou which makest men to be of one mind in an house, be pleased so to unite us, that we may be perfectly joined together in the same mind, and in the same judgement.  
And now that in civil affairs there seems some aptness to a composure, O let not our Spiritual differences be more unreconcilable. Lord, let not the roughest winds blow out of the Sanctuary; let not those which should be thy ambassadors for peace still sound a Trumpet for war: but do thou reveal thyself to all our Eliah's in that still small voice, which may teach them to echo thee in the like meek treating with others. Lord, let no unseasonable stiffness of those that are in the right, no perverse obstinacy of those that are in the wrong, hinder the closing of our wounds; but let the one instruct in meekness, and be thou pleased to give the other repentance to the acknowledgement of the Truth.  
To this end do thou, O Lord, mollify all exasperated minds (take off all animosities and prejudices, contempt and heartburnings) and by uniting their hearts prepare for the reconciling their opinions. And that nothing may intercept the clear sight of thy truth, Lord, let all private and secular designs be totally deposited, that gain may no longer be the measure of our Godliness, but that the one great and common concernment of truth and peace may be unanimously and vigorously pursued.  
Lord, the hearts of all men are in thy hands, O be thou pleased to let thy Spirit of peace overshadow the minds of all contending parties; and, if it be thy will, restore this Church to her pristine state, renew her days as of old, let her escape out of Egypt, be so entire, that not an hoof may be left behind: But if thy wisdom see it not yet a season for so full a deliverance, Lord, defer not (we beseech thee) such a degree of it, as may at least secure her a being. If she cannot recover her beauty, yet O Lord grant her health, such a soundness of constitution as may preserve her from dissolution. Let thy providence find out some good Samaritans to cure her present wounds. And to whomsoever thou shalt commit that important work, Lord, give them skilful hands and compassionate hearts; direct them to such applications as may most speedily, and yet most soundly, heal the hurt of the daughter of Zion; and make them so advert to the interests both of truth and peace, that no lawful condescension may be omitted, nor any unlawful made: And do thou, who art both the wonderful Counsellor and Prince of peace, so guide and prosper all pacific endeavours, that all our distractions may be composed, and our Jerusalem may again become a City at unity in itself; that those happy primitive days may at length revert, wherein Vice was the only heresy; that all our intestine contentions may be converted into a vigorous opposition of our common enemy, our unbrotherly feuds into a Christian zeal against all that exalts itself against the obedience of Christ. Lord, hear us, and ordain peace for us; even for his sake whom thou hast ordained our peacemaker, Jesus Christ our Lord.   

Prayer II.  
Evening.  
O Most gracious Lord, who dost not afflict willingly nor grieve the children of men, who smitest not till the importunity of our sins enforce thee, and then correctest in measure, we thy unworthy creatures humbly acknowledge that we have abundantly tasted of this patience and lenity of thine. To what an enormous height were our sins arrived ere thou beganst to visit them! and when thou couldst no longer forbear, yet mastering thy power, thou hast not proportioned thy vengeance to our crimes, but to thy own gracious design of reducing and reclaiming us. Lord, had the first stroke of thy hand been exterminating, our guilts had justified the method; but thou hast proceeded by such easy and gentle degrees, as witness how much thou desiredst to be interrupted; and show us, that all that sad weight we have long groaned under, hath been accumulated only by our own incorrigibleness. 'Tis now, O Lord, these many years that this Nation hath been in the furnace, and yet our dross wastes not but increases; & it is owing only to thy unspeakable mercy, that we (who would not be purified) are not consumed; that we remain a Nation, who cease not to be a most sinful and provoking Nation. O Lord, let not this long-suffering of thine serve only to upbraid our obstinacy, and enhance our guilt; but let it at last have the proper effect on us, melt our hearts, and lead us to repentance.  
And oh, that this may be the day for us thus to discern the things that belong to our peace! that all who are (yea, and all who are not) cast down this day in an external humiliation, may by the operation of thy mighty Spirit have their souls laid prostrate before thee in a sincere contrition! O thou who canst out of the very stones raise up children unto Abraham, work our stony flinty hearts into such a temper as may be malleable to the impressions of thy grace, that all the sinners in Zion may tremble; that we may not by a persevering obstinacy seal to ourselves both temporal and eternal ruin, but instead of our mutinous complaining at the punishments of our sins, search and try our ways, and turn again to the Lord. O be thou pleased to grant us this one grand fundamental mercy, that we who so impatiently thirst after a change without us, may render that possible and safe by this better & more necessary change within us; that our sins may not, as they have so often done, interpose and eclipse that light which now begins to break out upon us.  
Lord, thy dove seems to approach us with an olive-branch in her mouth, oh let not our filth & noisomness chase her away; but grant us that true repentance which may atone thee, and that Christian charity which may reconcile us with one another. Lord, let not our breach either with thee or among our selves be incurable, but by making up the first prepare us for the healing of the latter. And because, O Lord, the way to make us one fold is to have one shepherd, be pleased to put us all under the conduct of Him to whom that charge belongs; bow the hearts of this people as of one man, that the only contention may be who shall be most forward in bringing back our David. O let none reflect on their past guilts as an argument to persevere, but to repent; and to make their return so sincere as may qualify them not only for his but thy Mercy.  
And, Lord, be pleased so to guide the hearts of all who shall be entrusted with that great concernment of settling this nation, that they may weigh all their deliberations in the balance of the Sanctuary; that conscience, not interest, may be the ruling principle; and that they may render to Caesar the things that are Caesar's, and to God the things that are God's; that they may become healers of our breaches, and happy repairers of the sad ruins both in Church and in State. Grant, O Lord, that as those sins which made them are become National, so the repentance may be National also; and that evidenced by the proper fruits of it, by zeal of restoring the rights both of thee and thine Anointed. And do thou, O Lord, so dispose all hearts, and remove all obstacles, that none may have the will, much less the power, to hinder his peaceable restitution. And, Lord, let him bring with him an heart so entirely devoted to thee, that he may wish his own honour only as a means to advance thine. O let the precepts and examples of his Blessed Father never depart from his mind; and as thou wert pleased to perfect the one by suffering, so perfect the other by acting thy will; that He may be a blessed instrument of replanting the power instead of the form of Godliness among us, of restoring Christian virtue in a profane and almost barbarous Nation. And if any wish him for any distant ends (if any desire his shadow as a shelter for their riots and licentiousness) O let him come a great but happy defeat to all such, not bring fuel but cure to their inordinate appetites; and by his example as a Christian, and his Authority as a King, so invite to good, and restrain from evil, that he may not only release our temporal, but our spiritual bondage, suppress those foul and scandalous vices which have so long captivated us, and by securing our inward, provide for the perpetuating our outward peace. Lord, establish thou his throne in righteousness, make him a signal instrument of thy glory and our happiness, and let him reap the fruits of it in comfort here, and in bliss hereafter; that so his earthly crown may serve to enhance and enrich his heavenly. Grant this, O King of Kings, for the sake and intercession of our Blessed Mediator, Jesus Christ.   
THE END.   

The manner of Dr H's death.  
D▪ H. Hammond, whose works (both of charity and learning) praise him in the gate, was about the beginning of April 1660. seized with a fit of the stone; which at first put him to acute pain, but soon after changed itself into a languishment & soreness over the whole body, attended with nauseatings and vomits (usual symptoms in such cases) and a suppression of urine for three days, than a fit of bleeding, &c. Thus he remained till April 25 when a second fit of bleeding came. After it succeeded a faintness, which increased till one a clock at night, which began a perpetual day to him, and to us as great a darkness as the remove of such a luminary could create to the Church.  
His disease (though of the acutest kind) was, in a manner, without pain. His soft departure would make a Christian in love with death: for whereas at other times he was upon the like occasions subject to a lethargic stupor; now he had his intellectuals perfect to the last, and breathed out his soul in a Veni Domine Jesu.  
FINIS.