THE LIFE and DEATH OF That Judicious Divine, and Accomplished PREACHER, ROBERT HARRIS, D.D. Late Precedent of Trinity College in Oxon.  
COLLECTED By a joynt-concurrence of some, who knew him well in his strength, visited him often in his sickness, attended him at his death, and still honour his Memory.  
PUBLISHED At the earnest request of many, for the satisfaction of some, for the silencing of others, and for the Imitation of all.  
By W.D. his dear Friend and Kinsman.  ISAI. 57.1, 2. 
The Righteous perisheth, and no man layeth it to heart, etc. He shall enter into peace, etc.  
LONDON, Printed for S.B. and are to be sold by J. Bartlet at the gilt Cup on the South side of S. Paul's Church, over against the Drapers, and at the gilt Cup in Westminster Hall. 1660.   

M. S.  

Robertus Harris, S.T.D. Pastor olim Hanwellensis,  
Ind per Decennium hujus Collegii Praeses  
Aeternùm Celebrandus;   

Perspicacissimus Indolum Scrutator,  
Potestatis Arbiter mitissimus,  
Merentium fautor integerrimus,  
Quem Prudentia & rerum usus Saeculo instruxerat  
Coelo fides & Pietas;   

Felix & praepotens animorum regulator,  
Aliorum affectibus in concione Imperitans,  
nusquam non suis;   

Post Evangelii labores Annis LIVIA strenue desudatos,  
Post Societatem hanc optimis disciplinis & Invidendâ concordiâ stabilitam,  
Vivido etiamnum & vigente Ingenio,  
Cum desertor animi corpus ineluctabili morbo succumberet,  
fessae mortalitatis exuvias hic deposuit,  
Prid. Id. Xbris A. Dom. MDCLIIX. Aetatis LXXX.   Posuit R.B. Coll. Trin. Soc.  

ERRATA.  
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ON THE Memory of that Famous and Godly Minister Dr. ROBERT HARRIS, my late Worthy Friend.  

AS once Elias in John Baptist came  
Back to the Jews, in that Triumphant flame  
Of light and zeal, wherein he did before  
Without deaths help up into Glory soar;  
And by this Transmigration of his Grace,  
Prepared paths before his Master's face:  
Even so in thee, blessed soul, did breath anew  
Great chrysostom, yea, Great Apollo's too;  
To thee those mighty Orators did give  
Their tongue to speak, to thee their life to live;  
Nay, thou thyself didst in thyself renew,  
Thy Forty's Vigour in Fourscore; we knew  
When all thy strength decayed, thy gifts did thrive.  
The man is dead, the Preacher still alive,  
Alive in his own Sermons, in our love,  
His name alive below, his soul above.  
And may the younger Prophets still inherit  
A double portion of their Father's Spirit;  
That by a sacred Metempsychosis,  
The gifts may now be theirs which once were his;  
That every Sermon which we hear, may be  
(Rare Preacher) a true Portraiture of thee;  
Yea, may it of each following age be true,  
The former are exceeded by the new;  
Visions of young surpass old Prophet's dreams,  
The Father's light's outshined by children's beams,  
That in their measures we may more and more,  
The unmeasured fullness of our Lord adore.   
Dr E. Reyn. old.   

THE LIFE and DEATH OF Robert Harris, D. D. late Precedent OF Trinity-college, OXON.  
RObert Harris was born in a dark time, and place, at Broad-Campden in ; his Father was looked upon by the chiefest in that Country, as a very wise and understanding man; his Mother was (confessedly) a very devout and charitable woman; under these prudent and pious Parents he spent his childhood; But it did not a little afflict this their Son to his dying day, that even then he was more willing of play, than of reading the Scriptures to his Parents at their call. So soon as he was capable, his Parents (having designed him for the Law, or the Ministry, according as his parts should prove) set him to the Free-School of Chipping-Campden, where he soon found a double inconvenience. First, The Schoolmasters were often changed by the defalcation of their salary through some default. Secondly, Some of them proved very fierce and cruel, which, he would often say, was the bane of many school-boys; and though for his own part, he never felt (to his remembrance) the smart of any Rod in any School, yet the daily executions done upon others, brought such a trembling and sadness of spirit upon him, that he could not be quite rid of so long as he lived.  
From that School he was removed to Worcester, where all the week he was under the tuition of Mr. Bright, and on the Sabbath under the Reverend Pastor, the learned Dr. Robert Abbots.  
From thence he was removed to Magdalen Hall in Oxon, being allied to the Principal, Mr. Lyster; There he shown an excessive desire of knowledge, and studied the more, because he had little help either from the Principal, or his Tutor; But all this while he was too too ignorant of the ways and truths of God.  
At length (his Tutor leaving the Hall) he became Suitor to the Principal, that one Mr. Goffe. of Magdalen-Colledge might be the man; This Mr. Goffe. was voiced to be a very good Logician and Disputant, but withal a Puritan, which occasioned the Principal (being Popish) to dissuade the choice, but his kinsman persisted in his suit, and would have no denial, not out of love to Religion, but to Learning only. Mr. Goffe. having received him, calls him to a concurrence with other Pupils in reading the Bible, Prayer, and Repetition of Sermons: This course did somewhat perplex the new Pupil. First, he knew few, if any, of the Seniors, who ran that way; and on the other side, he was not able to confute the practice. In this case he would (as himself reported) in his study fall down and entreat the Lord, either to discover the falsehood, if his Tutor had any design upon him to seduce him, or if this way were pleasing to God, that then the Lord would confirm him in it. Not long after he came to a resolution, bought a Bible, took excessive pains in reading that, and other Authors in Divinity. In the mean while his Tutor puts off his Pupil, because he did not earn his money, for his Tutorage: Only thus it should be (said his Tutor) We will continue our studies together, I'll read Philosophy with you, and you Greek with me; From Greek, they passed to Hebrew, wherein they had also the concurrence of some other of the Fellows, whereof one was afterward Precedent. And however Mr. Harris was not then complete Bachelor in the Hall, yet the company accepted of him, finding him studious, and as ready in his Grammar as themselves: Besides this, his Tutor and himself agreed to read Calvins Institutions by turns, the one reading a chapter this day, and giving an account thereof to the other, and the other to do the like the next day; and this they did so long continue, as their other occasions and exercises would permit.  
After he was a while Bachelor of Arts, he had a mind to try what his fitness was for the Pulpit (because else he must to the Law) and having prepared himself, he offers his pains at Chipping-Campden; but such were those times, that in the greater Town he did not know where to procure a Bible for the reading of his Text; At length he was directed to the Vicar there, the Bible could hardly be found, being not seen some months before, at last found it was, and the Preacher furnished, who chose for his Text the words of St. Paul, Rom. 10.1. The Sermon was heard with much applause, only the Preacher would often say, that he lost by the bargain. First, His heart grew big upon it, next, his carnal friends call upon him, to give over University-studies, and to come amongst them, as being now learned enough. His Father also (having many children yet to provide for) was willing to ease his charge, and thereupon applied himself to some persons of quality in the State, and of eminency in the Church, in order to some preferment. But his son declined public employment for the present, and became humble suitor to his Father, that what he was pleased to bestow upon him as a Patrimony, he would allow it to him in Oxon, for the perfecting of his studies. This, with much ado, was obtained, and to Oxon he returned a joyful man. Long he had not been in Oxon before a fearful Plague invaded that place, the University was dissolved, few left behind. In this case he was at a stand again; Home he durst not go, whither else he knew not, till by a providence (the progress whereof is not known) he was invited to Mr. Doylys, five miles distant from Oxon. This Mr. Doyly was an Ancient Gentleman (of a most Ancient Family of the Doylyes in Oxonshire) a great friend to the Gospel, and his wife a woman of an extraordinary knowledge and piety; To them Mr. Harris goes for the present.  
There he found one Mr. Prior, a prudent godly man, of an excellent spirit, but much weakened with the stone and gout. This Mr. Prior was then over-burdened with preaching, both on the Sabbaths, and at extraordinary Fasts then enjoined by occasion of the plague. In mere pity Mr. Harris holp him a turn or two, but then was so set upon by the Gentleman, the Incumbent, with others, that he could not withstand their importunity; There he must sit down, and there preach during the Fast at least. He told them he was not ordained, and durst not meddle with any thing but preaching, neither, and that, but till he could be authorized. This was accepted, the work goes on, large requitals he received from the good Gentleman, and his wife, and much encouragement he found from the people. And thus it continued till God appeared in another call.  
Now was there a fearful Eclipse upon the Church; a constellation of Ministers were at once darkened. Amongst the rest those three shining Stars, Mr. Dod, Mr. Cleaver, and Mr. Lancaster. Hereupon Sir Anthony Cope (who had before placed, and now lost Mr. Dod, at Hanwell, and Mr. Cleaver at Drayton) became suitor to his Brother Doylye (so he was by marriage) for Mr. Harris. The motion was unwelcome on all hands, Mr. Doylye being unwilling to lose Mr. Harris; yet (after a long debate) it was thought most conducible to the public, that it should be so, and so it was.  
Mr. Harris, with much grief and fear goes to Hanwell, where he found that Country in this posture; Preach he might and welcome, but Pastors they would own none but their old. The conclusion was, that he would preach to both Congregations united, so long as Authority would permit, and so long as there was any hope of recovering their former Pastors. This gave some satisfaction, but not sufficient, for the quarrel was this, You are not throughout of our Pastor's minds.  
It fell out, that at the same time Mr. Whately entered the Pulpit at Banbury, and bore a great part of the people's displeasure. For howsoever they could not except against his preaching (he being a man of singular parts) yet upon the account of dissent from their Ancient Teachers, he was also distasted; and the truth is, they both had a sad time of it, a great while, notwithstanding all the wisdom and moderation of Sir Anthony Cope, and Mr. Dod, to the contrary.  
Well, this world lasted not long; Archbishop Bancroft, finding no compliance in the silenced, presents two Chaplains to the two forenamed Churches, upon a pretence of a lapse. Sir Anthony Cope thinks it now high time to stir, and sitting then in Parliament, he takes one or two of the house with him, and presents his Clerks to the Archbishop. After a long contest the Archbishop was content that Sir Anthony Cope should present. Howbeit, because he had spoken in Parliament against insufficient Ministers, with some reflection upon the Bishops, the Archbishop could not but resent this, and therefore refers both his Clerks to his ablest Chaplain to be examined. The Chaplain (having it seems his lesson) brings in the Clerk designed for Hanwell (declined by Mr. Harris) altogether insufficient, being indeed a grave and discreet divine. The other was returned Mediocritèr doctus. The Bishop not pleased with this last account, speaks to Bishop Barlow then present, to undertake Mr. Harris; The Bishop, being a man active and witty, and was glad of the office, falls upon his work, tries his Examinate a little in Divinity, but most in other Learning and Greek, where the Bishop's strength lay, but so long they both Greeked it, till at last they were both scoted, and to seek of words, whereupon they both fell a laughing, and so gave up. The Bishop went in to the Archbishop, and there (as Mr. Harris expressed it) set him as much too high, as his Chaplain had set his fellow too low. Upon this return the Archbishop was content to admit of Mr. Harris, but upon condition that he might have Hanwell. This was easily granted, for the Patron had before offered it, and Mr. Dod was there present to desire it; Only the stick was, That he was fearful to succeed a Divine so famous, which answer of his did not much please the Archbishop, though at present he courted Mr. Dod.  
Well, now they have a new Pastor at Hanwell, which begets a new tumult; withal Drayton is also furnished with one Mr. Scudder, a prudent man: And now there were three united, not only in judgement and Christian affection, but in affinity. Mr. Harris, marrying Mr. Whatelyes own Sister; And Mr. Scudder his Wife's Sister. These three met a while weekly, and alternatim translated, and analysed each his Chapter, but their public employments soon took them off this.  
Shortly after there befell Mr. Harris his Wife, upon her first child, a great and long affliction, which was (as Mr. Dod told him) but to season and fit him for his work; and himself would often say, that he had been quite spoiled, had he not been thus taken down, for young Ministers know not the ground they tread upon, till God lays them flat.  
This cloud blown over (and some other storms from abroad, the weather seemed to clear up over him; the people began to relish his Ministry, and no small comfort is found in the Proximity of many Divines. On the one hand there was Mr. Cleaver, a solid Text-man; on the other Mr. Lancaster, a most humble and selfdenying man; for whereas he was by birth a good Gentleman, and had been Fellow of King's College in Cambridge, where being called to sundry public Lectures and Speeches, he delivered himself in as pure Latin (to use the words of that Master of Speech, Dr. Collins) as ever Tully himself uttered, having no Notes before him, but what he wrote upon the nails of his fingers; yet this man, thus accomplished in all Arts, contented himself with a living under 40. l. per annum, and made no noise of any learning at all.  
But above all the rest, the most respected was Mr. Dod, touching whom he was fully of Mr. Cartwrights mind, who held him the fittest man in the Land for a Pastoral function; A man able to speak to any man's capacity, and never out of the Pulpit; for all his discourses were Sermons, and that with such a mixture of delight, as would take with any man. The truth is, he was a very eloquent man, both in English and Latin, so facetious and pithy, that Mr. Harris would often say, If all his Apothegms were collected, they would exceed all that Plutarch in Greek, or others in Latin, since have published. For some years Mr. Harris had the happiness to live with and by this Reverend man, and that in such a conjunction, as greater could not be.  
Mr. Dod, (bearing the same respect to the new Preacher, as Mr. Goffe. had done to his new Pupil) they studied together, and daily read a Chapter in the Original together, and when Mr. Dod beg●n to preach again in another Diecess, he would not expound a Text, preach a Sermon, answer a Case of Conscience (whereof many were daily brought to him) without his concurence with him, so highly was that Eminent Divine pleased with him, yet still would he blame him for his reservedness and unwillingness to put forth himself. The truth is, Mr. Dod was abundantly satisfied in his Successor, which is rarely seen, and was pleased to own and honour him much: And on the other side, Mr. Harris accounted himself happy in the enjoyment of such a Mnason, from whom he learned much. But this happiness had its end; Mr. Dod was called thence into Northamptonshire, and in his absence God made this supply; Sundry young Students resorted to Hanwell, where his little house was a little Academy. Among others, he took much comfort in Mr. Pemble, (who would do nothing without him, especially in Divinity) as also in Mr. Capel, 
V Mr. Valent. Martial in the life of Mr. Capel.  who in his sore conflicts and temptations, made much use of him in private, as also in his known Treatise of Temptations.  
But time wears and eats out all these temporary comforts; he lived to see an end of Mr. Pemble, Mr. Capel, and most of his Sojourners; an end of three Patrons in a Succession, and their respective Wives and Ladies, an end of all the ancient Preachers of the Country, and of most of his Contemporaries, together with the most eminent Professors of those parts, as also an end of four of his Sons in their full strength; and at length he lived to see himself and his name buried at Hanwell.  
During his being there, he had sundry calls to London, now to the Cross, now to the Parliament, and sometime to the Country-feasts, which gave occasion to many invitations to places there; The Auditory that most won upon him was, St. Saviour's in Southwark, and there could he have spent his life, if he could have reached so great Assemblies. From thence he was invited to lesser Churches, but something or other still intercepted; He had in probability closed with Aldermanburic, had not the then Bishop Laud complemented him thence, commending his Clerum at Oxon, and promising him more preferment than he thought he should merit. Other offers were made to him then, but he ever met with some cross providence about them.  
At length he came to this conclusion, even to end where he began, as to his own particular, though he would not condemn others in their removal. At Hanwell he went over many Scriptures; his people found least good from that which cost him most pains, and that was the Epistle to the Colossians, which he preached throughout. He conceived then, that he could not speak too highly to a people so taught, but upon further acquaintance he found that he could not go too low, so that (as some of his hearers after told him) his pains upon that Epistle was lost upon them. His Sermons upon Historical Scriptures took best with the most, but with himself, and the more spiritual sort, the Book of the Canticles prevailed most, the Notes whereof he was often pressed to publish, but refused, upon a double reason. 1 A great part of his Notes were lost, and died with Dr. Preston (whom he would call a needless engrosser of others Notes) And 2 He less satisfied himself in his elder years, in divers passages of that mysterious Book. Although there are, who upon less experience, and far less learning, dare vent their conceits upon such difficult Scriptures, so confidently, as if themselves had been Penmen, rather than Commentators. Were the world at leisure to hear old men speak, it might be Tanti, to collect those dispersed papers, and it is yet hoped that some near relations (who best understand his Character and Method in penning) may take some pains therein for the public good. Mean while we go on, where we left Mr. Harris preaching at Hanwell.  
There he continued about forty years, A constant and painful Preacher, both upon the Lords days, and upon other occasions, which were many, for he found there an accustomed course of Preaching upon such Festival days (than so called) which might not enterfeire with the Lecture or Market adjacent, which he maintained; especially on the Easter, and White-mondaies, at which times troops of Christians from all quarters, many miles distant, flocked to him, as innocent Doves to the windows, without any Superstition.  
Thence on the morrow were they entertained at Banbury by Mr. Whately; what a fair of souls was then held at Hanwell and Banbury, by these two Brothers! How did Religion flourish? How did Professors thrive? In truth, the Preachers carved out sound wholesome food, and their hearers came with good appetites, expecting (what they found) both milk and meat, and did grow thereby. In those days the Preachers laid aside all airy notions, and curious speculations; They sought meet words and matter, in a plain method and Doctrine, Reason and Use, accommodating themselves to every capacity, and God gave them a plentiful harvest in that Country.  
These occasions at home, (together with a natural bookishness) made him less forward to engage himself in Lectures abroad; Only he was in a combination at Dedington, in Oxonshire, and for some time engaged alone at Stratford upon the Avon, where he had each fortnight a great confluence of the chiefest Gentlemen, and choicest Preachers and Professors in those parts; Among others, that noble and learned Knight, Sir Thomas Lucy of Charlcot, may not be forgotten, who was pleased to cast a special eye of favour upon him. About this time a great living was offered to him in the Country, touching which he was very indifferent, and the truth is but indifferently dealt with in it, which gave him occasion to say, That he never bore any thing more impatiently, than the abuse of Religion to base private ends, and that carnal policy would render profession despicable at least, whilst some men took such a liberty to themselves, in equivocating, and daubing, and the reason of such men's success, was not because they had more wit than others, but more boldness to do and say what others durst not.  
At Hanwell yet we find him, where he lived in much prosperity; The Neighbourhood in the Borders much frequented his Sermons, from whom he received greatest Seals of his Ministry, and much countenance from the chiefest in that Country, where yet lives a Person of Honour, who makes it his work to set up shining lights in those parts, where so many (within memory) have been extinguished.  
Howbeit, although he found such encouragement from abroad, we must not forget his own people at home, who were so far subdued to a conformity, that there was (sometimes) no family in the Town, wherein God's Name was not in some measure called upon, nor any person who refused to be prepared by him for the Lords-Supper.  
And as the Lord did thus bless his labours, so likewise his estate too; himself would observe a sensible blessing on it; for though his means was not great, and his children (for whom he kept a Schoolmaster) many, and the resort to his house not little by occasion of Sabbath, and sundry weekly Lectures in his Parish, yet was he of the growing hand, which made him to conclude, That there was a secret blessing on house-keeping, For I am not able (quoth he) to give an account of my expenses, and of God's supplies. Thus things stood with him in those times of peace.  
Now begin those cloudy times, and his sadder days; now Troops and Armies march towards those Quarters about Edge-hill, where they sit down, and there is fought a bloody battle upon the Lord's day, about four miles distant from him; notwithstanding (which he took for a great mercy) he heard not the least noise of it, till the public work of the day was over, nor could he believe the report of a fight, till a soldier besmeered with blood & powder came to witness it. From that time forward his troubles multiplied; now he was threatened with this, now with that Garrison; here he was a Round-head, and there a Malignant; still oppressed with a succession of soldier's quartering upon him, yet still he kept his standing. In his family some of his guests would join with him in Family-duties, wherein he was always constant, albeit his devotions were by some entertained, and by others scorned, because not mingled with book-prayers. In the Congregation he held on his course, every Sabbath, and the most of his quarterers being Leaders and Officers, were the more civil towards him and his; only at one time the then company were so outrageously blasphemous, that he could not forbear that Text, James 5.12. Which did so nettle some, that they damned themselves to Hell, if they did not shoot him, if in case he preached on that Text again, which was (as they conceived) purposely chosen against them; The next day he went on upon the same Text, as yet unfinished, backing what he had said before, when a soldier (in his eye) takes his Carbine, fumbles about the lock, as if he intended somewhat, but the Preacher (conceiving it done only to disturb him) goes thorough his work without any further news of his soldier.  
Thus continued he upon his work in those sad days; and though he had a call to the Assembly at London, yet because there was (as he seriously thought) less need of him there, than in the Country, he continued his station, till he saw his tenements in the neighbourhood fired, wood, and nurseries of wood destroyed, himself threatened, and at last enforced by a Scottish Commander to shift for himself, some of his neighbours also being now ready to betray him, therefore to London he went.  
Thither he came a sad man; To the Assembly he went, where he found much more undone, than done; there he heard many excellent men, but still he traveled with his people, his wife and children left behind. Rest he found none, till God's providence set them down in safety by him; Then went he with more comfort to the Assembly, yet still did he Antiquum obtinere, i. e. hear all, and say little.  
Upon his remove, his Books and Notes (some few excepted, which he had preconveyed) together with all his goods left, were seized, his living given to another, but that might have been soon supplied, having many offers made him from many Ceasts, and Country-Committees.  
The first, which he listened to, was the Temple; but finding that Church (upon trial) too hard for him, he desisted; at last he was sent to Buttolphs-Bishopsgate, there (though overmatched also with a great Congregation, yet being necessitated to do something for his family now come to him) he took up, during his abode at the Assembly.  
But some while after, himself, with four more Divines, were commanded to Oxon then under suspension. This employment he often professed that he did studiously decline, upon a double account.  
First, The Committee for Hamp-shire had freely called him to Petersfield, and thither he would have gone gladly.  
Secondly, He had long discontinued the University, and therefore looked upon himself as most unfit for such a service; but in conclusion, he was told, That such who would not be entreated, must be commanded, and so was ordered to prepare for his journey. Now was he exceedingly perplexed; to Petersfield he goes, tells them how it stands with him, to them he could not suddenly come, and desires them to think of some other Minister, or else to take the care upon themselves for the supply of both Churches (for two they were) and to pay the Preachers employed out of the revenues. They liked neither offer, only they would wait a while in hopes of his settling with them. In the mean, they desired him to provide men to his own liking; this put him to much care and trouble; For a time he procured some from Oxon, and those parts; After he had employed friends for the procuring of others (for at this time Preachers were scarce) too were with much ado provided, the one whereof gave no good content; In the end he was put upon it, either to quit Oxen, or Petersfield, the one he durst not decline, the other he did to his exceeding grief, because he could not seal up such respect and thanks to that County which was due from him.  
No less trouble had he at Buttolph's Bishopsgate (it being no easy matter to content Citizens) much ado there was before that place could be supplied to all their minds.  
In the mean, amongst many Libels cast out at Oxon against other Preachers, one especially took a survey of Mr. Harris his Live and Revenues, he reckons up all he could hear of, past, present, and to come, and had he heard of the rest, which at several times were offered him, haply they had all been put into the Inventory. Upon notice given of such a Pamphlet, Mr. Harris wrote to some friends (which letters are already extant) for his own vindication in the main, howbeit he professed to his friends, that it would and should be matter of humbling to him whilst he lived, that he had given the least advantage to an adversary; for however he stood clear in his own and others consciences (who best knew him) that he was far from the allowance of nonresidency and pluralities, yet to men who knew not all passages, there was some appearance of evil, which he took to heart, the more because he found Gods afflicting hand upon him, and his, thence forward.  
To return to Oxon, there things stand but untowardly, whilst the Preachers sent are libelled by their own Mother's children on the one hand, and withal challenged into a disputation by one Mr Erbery, and his followers on the other: Such a motion or challenge (it seems) was made, which Mr. Harris utterly disliked (observing that disputes in that nature send away each party more strengthened in their opinion, than they found them) notwithstanding his Brethren did not think it fit for them to decline it, only they desired his concurrence so far, at least, that he would begin the work with prayer. Accordingly they met, and the issue was, that all were censured, some for speaking, others for their silence; in this latter rank he was willingly placed.  
About this time comes the Chancellor (the Earl of Pembroke) to visit the University, who, pro more, bestowed degrees upon Scholars there, amongst whom Mr. Harris (who never thought himself the better Scholar or Preacher thereby) was admitted Doctor of Divinity, which, had it not been the favour of his betters he had refused; But he had learned, That an empty hand from a Prince, and a naked title from his Chancellor, must be counted an honour.  
By this time many Headships (before voided) were now to be supplied. Dr. Harris professed, that forasmuch as it was noised, That these reforming Preachers, came thither to play their own game, namely, to thrust out others, and to usurp their places, therefore he would keep him to his old course, viz. to stand silent, without opening his mouth for any Headship at all.  
Well, the best places are soon disposed of, neither any news of any for him, till a Noble man, of the other University, mentioned him, whereupon he was assigned to Trinity College; This some of his friends stranged at, considering that he was (though the meanest in his own eyes) yet the eldest man, and one who had suffered more by the times, than any, if not all the rest.  
For his own part he said little, but inquired for the Head deprived, and into the nature of the place. As touching the Head of that house, he was not willing to meddle with his place, if he could find favour to hold it, and to that purpose forbore as long as could be permitted. And as touching the place, the smallness of the College, and the Situation thereof, did abundantly satisfy him, who never desired any more than what would keep him from distractions in his studies. The only thing stuck at, was a Parsonage annexed to the College.  
But understanding the distance to be small, and the conditions easy (viz. eight Sermons per annum) he the more inclined to it, though after, upon further inquiry he could not satisfy himself under two Sermons weekly; However there he satedown, and took a great deal of contentment in the Fellows of that College, betwixt whom and him there was ever a fair correspondency.  
But at the Parsonage he found the greater part (notwithstanding they had been long taught) very ignorant, and wedded to their old customs, and (which he looked upon as a sad Omen to the place) no sooner did any there set his face towards Heaven, in any special manner, but the Lord took him out of the world, some few, very few excepted. Some motion was now made by the Committee at Oxon for his removal to New College, upon the avoidance of it, but the motion began without him, and was stifled by him, when exception above was taken by some against his uncapableness, being no Winchester-man. In truth (as he professed to his friends) he desired a little College, rather than a great, he being a man very much addicted to privacy and his book, which made him often to say, That were Trinity-college a competency without the Parsonage, he would not leave it for any place, unless it were for some Hospital; so much had he seen into the vanity and cumber of the world.  
In his l●tter days he began to grow weary of journeys, whereupon some well-affected Citizens in Oxon (moved thereto in a Sermon preached to them by Dr. Cheynell) made some overtures to him to read a Catechism-Lecture, or some Brinciples of Religion (as he thought fittest) in one of their Churches; in lieu whereof they would allow him (at their charges) an Assistant at his Parsonage. The motion was good, the exercise needful, only it was questionable how such a work would take in such a place amongst wits and Scholars; yet because he had bemoaned himself to God in private, That his comfort was little in the place where he preached, and had made it his humble suit That the Lord would not lay him aside, but some way employ him, whilst any ability was left him, because (I say) he had thus prayed, and this motion immediately succeeded, he durst not slight it, but set upon the work with much acceptance and assistance, the Lord giving strength beyond his years; and thus he continued preaching once a Sabbath at his Parsonage, once weekly in the City, and constantly in his turn at the University, and that not only in English, but in Latin also. Yet we are not at the end of his travels; when he had now freed himself of secular affairs, placed all his children, left himself nothing else to do, but to prepare himself and wife for their graves, having lived about fifty years together, it pleased the Lord to exercise him strangely.  
His wife, most religiously bred, born of Parents eminently pious, a most constant worshipper of God all her time, who seldom risen from her knees with dry eyes, was delivered up to Satan's buffet, to such horrors of mind, and hellish temptations, as smote a grief and terror into all spectators.  
Then (as he would often say) God made it appear to all Beholders, that the best man is no more than God makes him hourly; the receiving of grace, the keeping of it, the use of it, the comfort & the enjoyment of it, is all from him. Nor is this true only in supernatural graces, but in the gifts of nature too, our wits, senses, fantasies, are all in his hand, nor are the wisest men any thing, any longer than he continues them so.  
This good woman was a sad instance of all this, whose temptations were so fierce, so horrid, and withal so subtle, that they put the ablest men to their wits to answer, and her poor self beyond herself, sundry experienced Preachers and Professors visited her; and her Husband (who had satisfied many others) could give her no peace. One day when she was complaining that she wanted comfort, O saith he, what an Idol do some make of comfort, as if their comfort were their Christ!  
Amidst all these trials, these comforts he took notice of, 1 That she was kept from blaspheming the Highest (as she still styled God) and from hurting herself or others. 2 That this affliction awakened him and his children; for they all accounted her the most conscientious and innocent among them. 3 It put him upon more work, than his age would bear, that so he might call out his thoughts upon business, and not eat up his own heart. And Lastly, It wrought in him an holy despair of all creature-comforts; for now he enjoyed neither child, nor friend, nor meat, nor sleep, having her continually in his eye, ear, and heart, and all friends fearing to come in sight, lest they should wound themselves, or trouble her. Only instant prayers were continued for her upon all occasions, and I doubt not still are in that City and Country, which gives hope that the Lord may yet please to make the end comfortable, and the conquest glorious.  
However (as her Husband would say) The difference is not great whether comfort come in death, or an hour after, since comfort assuredly would come. And thus for the present we leave her tossing upon the waves and billows of Temptation (yet under a general expectation of a blessed Issue in the best time) and return once, and but once more, to her Husband now entering into the Haven of rest.  
After a long and laborious life (tedious perhaps to him who reads it, but more grievous to him who underwent it) we come at length to his long and painful sickness, sickness, I say, That usual Harbinger of death.  
In the Summer he began to droop, 
Dr. Bathurst. Dr. Willis.  and finding a decay, sent for two Physicians, well known to him and his by former experiences, and eminently known in the University, to whom he would profess, That he used means merely in obedience, but for his own part, he could live, and durst die; His Physicians (as himself professed) had proceeded so far, as Art and Learning could carry them, but herein they would lose of their worth, that they had to deal with complicated diseases, which were seldom removed, but most of all with old age, a disease which was never cured. His first encounter was with a vehement Pleuritical pain in his left side, to which was adjoined a Fever, as also a great defluxion of Rheum and oppression of his lungs with phlegm, and now when after divers weeks, all these Assailants seemed well nigh-vanquished, through the tender care of his skilful Physicians, yet still haeret lateri, That enemy which had so long lodged in his bosom, broke forth into an Empyema, which he expectorated daily in so great a measure, for the space of two months, or more, that hereby (together with some fits of his old disease, the stone and strangury) he was not able to speak much to those that visited him.  
And herein he made good what he had often said in his best strength, viz. that little must be expected from him on his deathbed, which prophetically occasioned his pen to report (fearing his tongue might not then utter) his advice and counsel to his family many years before his death; Indeed, he rather forbore to speak, because he perceived a design to make his words public, which he was utterly unwilling to, neither would he consent that any thing of his life or death should be penned; nay, he could never be persuaded at any time to sit, that his shadow might remain, so desirous was he, that all of him might be buried with him. And albeit he spit up those lungs, which he had wasted in the Pulpit, yet could not that light of grace be so smothered under his bushel, but oftentimes the beams thereof would shine forth, and himself would breathe out himself in pithy speeches, and savoury discourses.  
At his first sickness, being desired to admit of company, he answered, I am alone in company, it is all one to me to be left alone, or to have friends with me, my work is now to arm myself for death, which assaults me, and I apply myself (as I am able) for that great encounter. Accordingly he spent his whole time in meditation, prayer, and in reading God's book, especially the Book of the Psalms, the Prophecy of Isaiah, and St. John's Gospel, where he took exceeding delight in the 10th. 14th. 15th. 16th. 17th. Chapters of that Evangelist.  
After, when his long nights, and short sleep were tedious, when he could not now rise, or sit upright to read, he would command others to read unto him, and then would collect the chief useful things contained in the Chapter, expounding any thing hard in it, and sweetly feeding on the rest.  
Still would he exhort hi● visitants and attendants to get Faith above all: It is your victory, your life (would he say) your peace, your crown, and your chief piece of spiritual armour; howbeit get on all, go forth in the Lords might, and stand to the fight, and then the issue shall be glorious; only forget not to call in the help of your General; do all from him, and under him.  
On the Lord's day he would not hinder any from the public, for any thing to be done for him, till Sermons were ended; then would he say, Come, what have you for me (meaning something of repetition) to which he would attend so diligently, as that he would sum up the heads of every Sermon, and say, O what excellent truths are these! Lay them up charily, you will have need of them.  
When friends came to visit him, he would say, I cannot speak, but I can hear; yet being asked where his comfort lay, he answered, In Christ, and in the free Grace of God. To one that told him, Sir, you may take much comfort in your labours, you have done much good, etc. He answered, All was nothing without a Saviour. My best works (said he) would condemn me; Oh I am ashamed of them, being mixed with so much sin: Oh I am an unprofitable servant, I have not done any thing for God as I ought; Loss of time sits heavy upon my spirit: Work, work apace, assure yourselves nothing will more trouble you, when you come to die, than that you have done no more for God, who hath done so much for you.  
Sometimes he would breathe out himself thus, I never in all my life saw the worth of a Christ, ne'er tasted the sweetness of God's love in that measure, as now I do: Therefore being asked what should be done for him, he answered, Do not only pray for me, but praise God for his unspeakable mercy to me; and in particular, that he hath kept Satan from me, in this my weakness. Oh (saith he) how good is God entertain good thoughts of him; However it be with us, we cannot think too well of him, or too bad of ourselves.  
The sense of God's goodness was deeply imprinted on his heart to his very last; and therefore in all his Wills, this legacy was always renewed, Item, I bequeath to all my children, and their children's children, to each of them a Bible, with this Inscription, None but Christ. At what time he was visited by two Reverend Doctors, 
Dr. S. Dr. C.  which were his choice friends, who before they prayed with him, desired him to tell them what he chief requested? he answered, I praise God he supports me, and keeps off Satan: Beg that I may hold out, I am now in a good way home, even quite spent, I am now at the shore, I leave you tossing on the Sea. Oh it is a good time to die in. Yet nearer his end, being often asked, How he did, he answered, In no great pain (I praise God) only weary of my unuseful life. If God have no more service for me to do here, I could be gladly in Heaven, where I shall serve him better, freed from sin and distractions. I pass from one death to another, yet I fear none; I praise God I can live, I dare die. If God have more work for me to do here, (as that Ancient said, 
Domine si tibi sim necessarius non recuso, etc. Pomer.  to which he seemed to allude) I am willing to do it, although my infirm body be very weary.  
Desiring one to pray, That God would hasten the work, It was asked, Whether pain, etc. put him upon that desire? He replied, No: But I do now no good, I hinder others which might be better employed, if I were not: Why should any desire to live, but to do God service? Now I cease from that, I do not live.  
By this time the violence of his distempers and advice of his Physicians forbade speech, yet did he call upon his attendants to read the Scriptures to him constantly, especially upon a Son of his with him to pray with him frequently; and whilst life and language lasted, he concluded all prayers with a loud Amen.  
He slumbered much the nearer he came to his last sleep. Once upon his awake, he found himself exceeding ill, called for his Son, and taking him by the hand, said, Pray with me, it is the last time in likelihood that ever I shall join with you, and complaining to him of his wearisomeness, his Son answered, There remains a rest, To whom he replied, My Sabbath is not far off, and yours is at hand; Ere that, I shall be rid of all my trouble, and you will be eased of some.  
At length this ruinous Fort which (only in obedience to his great Commander) had held out beyond his own desire, and all men's expectations, from the height of Summer, to the depth of Winter, comes to be yielded up. About Saturday even, he began to set himself to die, forbids all cordials to be administered, upon whatsoever extremity, gives his dying blessing to his Son, (who only of all his children was with him) and (upon his request) enjoins him to signify upon occasion in that Country, where he was longest known, That he lived and died in the Faith which he had preached and printed, and now he found the comfort of it: Something else he began to speak, but his distempers interrupted his desires, and from that time never entertained any discourse with the sons of men, only commanded the 8th. of the Romans to be read to him. And herein God was exceedingly good to him in the return of those petitions put up for him that afternoon, by those two eminent Divines, and his dearest Brethren above mentioned; for whereas his distempers gave occasion to fear that his death would be exceeding painful, yet was it so easy, that his son and other attendants, could but guests at the particular time of his departure; his breathe were easy and even, his eyes open and full of water, till at the last (having lifted them up towards Heaven) they closed of themselves, and his soul, without the least motion or resistance of body, entered into rest, whilst we below were entering into the day of rest. For than began he a perpetual Sabbath in Heaven, when we began ours on Earth, twixt twelve and one on Saturday, Decemb. 11. 1658. He died in a good old age, and full of days, having outlived fourscore years, much bewailed by the College, by the City, and whole University. Thus have we for the satisfaction of some, and the silencing of others, given you a plain and impartial narrative of the life and death of this eminent Divine, collected partly out of his own letters, and partly from their mouths, who best understood him; Let us now look upon himself within himself, and there see what was in him, for the imitation of all. Dr. Harris was (confessedly) a man of admirable prudence, profound judgement, eminent gifts and graces, and furnished with all qualifications which might render him a complete man, a wise governor, a profitable Preacher, and a good Christian.  
Here is a large field, but I shall contract and speak in few.  
First, Look upon him as a Christian, because that was his and our greatest ornament; He was a man that had much acquaintance with God, much communion with him in private meditation and devotion, accounting those his best days, wherein he had most converse with him.  
One in his sickness ask him how he did, Oh, saith he, this hath been a sweet day, I have had sweet communion with God in Jesus Christ. He was none of them that were all for promises and privileges, mean while neglect duties. He made them his exercise, but not his Christ. He was much in the work of those severer points of Religion, as private humiliation, mortification, and self-denial, whereby he gained the conquest of himself. In truth, he was (as far as is consistent with humane frailty) Master of his corruptions, whatsoever passions, reason, appetite, language, all.  
The Lord wrought upon him betimes; Though he knew not the Preacher or Sermon that converted him, yet his course was, in the days of his strictest examination, to set down his evidences for salvation in writing, now in Propositions from Scripture, now in Syllogisms; These he often subscribed to, in a book kept for that very purpose. But these evidences were best read in the course of his life, which was an exact walking with God in Piety, Charity, Humility, Patience, and Dependence on him. He was none of those who sat in Moses Chair, but did not the things which themselves taught: He had well digested that Father's Precept to Preachers; Either preach not at all, or live as you preach. His life was the Commentary upon his Doctrine, his practice the counterpart of his Sermons; what was said of that precious Jewel, 
In the life of B. Jewel.  was true of him, That he adorned an heavenly Doctrine with an heavenly Life. In a word, he did vertere verba in opera, he lived Religion, whilst many discourse only. He was much more than he seemed to be; he loved not to make a noise in the world, accounting it much better to do, than to speak.  
His Charity to the poor was no less discreet, than private. When he met with just objects of Charity, his hand was more ready to give, than his mouth to proclaim it. Justice (they say) should be blind, and know no difference of persons, but Charity should have her eyes in her head, and one eye especially on the household of Faith. It is true, he was no friend to idle lazy persons, who live on the sweat of others brows, like Pharaohs lean kine, devouring the fat, yet no whit the fatter; These he looked upon as the Pests of the Commonwealth, nor could he think it Charity to relieve such to the prejudice of the public, and to their own destruction: But God's poor were his, and lay near his heart. He that shall survey his large bills of weekly and quarterly allowances (besides round sums to poor Ministers, especially their Widows and Orphans, who never knew the Donor) and shall examine his Legacies in his Will to charitable uses, cannot but acknowledge his charity (whatever others think of him) did exceed the proportion of his revenues. Though naturally he were of a stout and masculine temper, yet through grace he had attained a very humble spirit. He was low and mean in his own eyes, and had more undervaluing thoughts of himself, than all the world besides had of him; very sensible he was of that enemy which he much complained of, viz. Discouragement, which he called the child of Pride and Unbeleef. It must needs be a great measure of humility that could keep a man low under such abilities, attainments, and such general applause. He was wont to say, That he valued no man for his gifts, but for his humility under them; neither would he expect much from any man, were his parts never so great, till broken with affliction and temptation.  
It was his observation, That the humblest Preachers converted most souls, not the choicest Scholars, whilst unbroken.  
Sometime he would use this speech, which though it seemed to speak a contradiction, yet hath it much truth in it, It is better to be an humble Devil, than a proud Angel. He never affected Popularity, Pulpits, Printing, etc. As one conscious to himself, of I know not what unworthiness. Neither ever came he thus abroad in public, but when haled by importunity.  
Secondly, Consider him as a Man in his Morals; first, whether in the Government of his particular self, or family, or his greater trusts, you shall always find him like himself, excellent, and (almost) without an equal.  
He was exactly temperate, confining himself to hours for diet, sleep, etc. He would often say, That he had rather pour liquor into his boots, than into his mouth, between meals. 
V Serm. called Drunkards Cup.  A strict observer of those Laws of sobriery, which St. Paul had pressed upon Ministers, and which he himself had publicly printed for others; he eat sparingly and seasonably, which (doubtless) was one great means of preserving such a vigour of spirit, to so great an age; his only playtime, was Saturday in the afternoon, than he would unbend, and disburden himself, by some harmless recreation ad Ruborem only. He was a man of an excellent carriage, and sweet behaviour, whereby he won much upon all; grave without affectation, pleasant without levity; Indeed he did never love to hear himself talk, and was therefore by some thought too reserved, but when he knew with whom he had to do, he was communicative enough. No man more candid, nor fuller of civility, none more open and free to entertain or return discourses. He was very cautious ere he struck a league of intimate friendship with any man, but when he had once done it, he was cordial, firm and constant, his head, his hand, tongue, pen, feet, purse, all were now no longer his own, but his feiends. It is said of the French, that whatever  they wear, whatsoever garb they accost you in, becomes them so well, as if nothing else did. And our Doctor had this advantage (as a great Critic in men, 
Mr. R. M.  as well as books observed of him) That whatsoever he did or spoke, became him.  
It was a very rare thing to see him angry; If at any time others folly had discomposed him, or their sin (the greatest folly) had provoked him, yet could he quickly command himself, and convert his passion into wholesome instruction.  
Though he had great parts and acquirements, yet he would never slight or undervalue, much less contemn or discourage any, whom he found right in the main.  
In his censures he was very sparing, gentle to others, severe only to himself.  
He had a special gift of forgetting injuries, but would offer none; his memory never served him better, than for any civilities received, to which he would industriously make what proportionable returns he could. He was very fearful, lest he should give any occasion of suspicion that he forgot or neglected any, because he could not readily recollect men's names, insomuch that he would say, If he lived long be should forget his own name, with him in Valerius.  
At meals he was usually comical and facetious, yet still would he inquire of the public, or of particular Towns, or Families, whence he would always extract something for prayers or praises in his returns after meat.  
In his Family he had (amongst the rest) that comprehensive qualification of a good Bishop, that he ruled well his own house. His method in the education of his children was this;  
In general, his care was to maintain his authority over them (which is much pressed by a Reverend Divine) yet even that authority was equally tempered with lenity and gravity: 
Mr. Hilders. on Psal. 51. Lect.  He could love them without fondness, and rule them without rigour. In particular, as soon as his children could use their tongue, they were taught to repeat the history of Scripture; so soon as they could well feel their feet, they were set to school; when they could recollect any portion of a Chapter, read, or bring home any passage of a Sermon, he would instruct them in the fundamentals of Religion. When childhood was gone, he called upon them for the practice of Religion, and he diligently observed their private performance of religious exercises.  
Their Mother, in the mean while, was no less careful to inculcate their Father's instructions; still, as they grew up, he diligently observed their capacities, inclinations, but especially constitutions, whence he could make a shrewd guess at that sin which after would prove the darling corruption, that accordingly he might so shape their callings, as that sin might be least succoured, and most subdued. His Rule was, When you are youths, choose your callings; when you are men, your wives; only take me along with you, it may be old men may see farther than you. Thus, whilst he condescended to them, and they submitted to him, all were gratified.  
Though he had a numerous Issue (yet through God's blessing upon his estate) he disposed of them in no mean employments: He sent many to the Universities, some to Merchandise, etc. To his Sons bred in the University, he would say, Study work more than wages; To those bred in the Cities, he would say, Do not waste a halfpenny, and you will not want a penny. So well did they all improve, as his advice, so their own time and parts, that they became Masters of their particular callings, from whence he received no small comfort. He acknowledged it a great mercy to his dying day, that none of his children were blemished, either by nature, or in their reputation; he was one of them, in whose children, that slander of the Papists, concerning the ungraciousness of the children of the married Clergy, receives a real confutation. He buried many Sons in their prime, some in foreign parts, others at home, and some followed shortly after him, yet have we comfortable hopes to conclude upon a rational Charity (grounded upon the pious letters from those abroad, and from that particular account of themselves, who died nearer home) that they all met in Heaven. I forbear to speak of those remaining, who need not my attestation, Only I crave leave to sprinkle some fresh tears upon the grave of one that hears me not; 
Mr. Tho. Harris of Madg. Col. Oxon.  once my dearest and intirest friend, who was eminently learned beyond his age, an ornament to the Noble Foundation whereof he was a Member; once the joy of his friends, still their sorrow, whose remembrance makes my wounds bleed afresh, and if I misguess not, this arrow from God's hand, stuck deep in the Father's heart to the very last.  
For his Servants, there are some men yet living, that served him in his younger days, who bless God that ever they came under his roof, where they received the beginnings of grace, and such a measure of knowledge, as hath kept them from warping in these giddy times.  
Amongst his Ancient Flock, where (by the way) he never administered the Sacrament, without a religious Fast of a whole day, and after in his small College, he managed all affairs with such prudence, that he was both feared and loved. In the College especially, his Government was such, that it caused a wonder, for whereas that College was famous for factions, there was not in his time any complaint made to any Visitors. In truth, the Foundation there, honoured him as a Father, and he looked upon them, and loved them as children, accordingly he sealed up his love to them in his last Will and Testament.  
He hated the shadow of Bribery, and Blanched Bribery, as he called Gifts. Examples are known in the College, of Gratuities refused, long after fair and free Elections.  
Lastly, Look upon him as a Scholar, and here we have him in his proper element; it must be acknowledged, that though he left the University early, and preached constantly, yet being a retired man, a constant Student, and of great parts, he had mastered all manner of learning qualifying a Divine In the sacred Languages, especially the Hebrew, he was very exact.  
His Clerums speak him a pure and polite Latinist, one of which preached and printed so long since, hath undergone the test, and gained the approbation of all knowing men in that language; The other younger by full forty years, yet of as good a complexion, and of as vigorous constitution, as its elder Brother, and it is to be hoped may in due time be made as public.  
What his abilities were in Argument, hath occasionally appeared in the Colledge-Exercise in the Chapel, where ofttimes in the unexpected absence of the Opponents, he would ex tempore, take up the cudgels, and make good their ground. In these exercises he manifested himself a subtle, clear, and ready Disputant, without any grains of allowance, either for age, or discontinuance.  
His choice learning lay where he made least show of it in public, viz. in Chronology, Church-History, Councils, Case-Divinity, and his insight into the Fathers.  
But his parts were best known in the Pulpit; his gifts in prayer were much above ordinary; his affections warm and keen, his petitions pithy and sinewous; his language pertinent, unaffected, and without Tautologies; Oh how he would boy up a dull and sinking spirit! how he would warm a cold and frozen heart! how would he carry a man's self out of himself, and by degrees lift up the soul Heaven-ward!  
His Sermons are well known in Print, his works commend him in the gate; The particular excellency of Nazianzen, Basil, chrysostom, Austin, Ambrose, Bernard, seemed all united in him. It was he who taught Rhetoric to speak in our Mother-tongue, and he may be styled (without falsehood or flattery) The English Orator: His Doctrines carried Light with them, his Application, Heat; his Reproofs were weighty, his Exhortations melting: But of this enough, lest we hear, as he did, who spent much time in the commendation of Hercules, Quis unquam vituperavit? what either Christian or Scholar, but approved or commended him? Would you know the worth of his Sermons, read them (though read, they come short of the same preached) read them again and again, and labour to read them with the same spirit they were preached, and you shall find the excellency of them.  
Among his excellencies, which were many in preaching, these were not the least, that he could cook his meat, to make it relish every palate; he could dress a plain discourse, so as that all sorts should be delighted. He could preach with a learned plainness, and had learned the Art to conceal it. He had clear notions of the highest points, and proper language to make them stoop to the capacity of the common hearer.  
His way in contrivance and penning of Sermons, was this,  
1 He did so contrive the parts of his Text, and points thence, as might give most scope in his Application, wherein his, and a Sermons excellency consists. Therefore, was he wont to say, in a Sermon he contrived the Uses first; He would handle the same Texts and points often, yet still would he pen new Applications shaped to the quality and condition of his Auditory.  
2 For penning, when he began, he would never take pen from Paper, or turn to any book, till he had written all.  
In his younger time, about twenty years together, he penned exactly, and could without much ado, preach the same verbatim; he was wont to say, That he had a fluid and waterish memory; I can (would he have said) quickly remember any thing of my own, and as quickly forget it again; yet doubtless his memory was very vast and tenacious; for albeit sometimes he had short notes in his Bible, and that rarely, yet did he never use them, more than when he preached a Clerum of late years, he glanced once upon his Papers. His custom was, immediately after he had heard a Sermon, to set down the heads thereof, I do not know that ever he forgot any main head, and seldom misplaced them; upon Fast-nights he would repeat two, and sometimes three Sermons that day delivered, in the same order as delivered.  
Discoursing with a friend about memories, he said, That his memory never failed him, which he presently explained, because he durst never trust it.  
He would say, that a Preacher had three Books to study; first, the Bible, secondly, himself, thirdly, the people.  
He looked much to the Ordinance and Relation twixt Pastor and People, and would say, That preaching to them was but one piece of the Pastor's duty; He was to live and die in them, as well as for, and with them.  
He complained much of the large insisting upon Doctrinal parts of points, when little or no room was left for Application; and found that few, either in Cities, or in the University, bended themselves to enlarge upon Uses; which made Sermons to differ little from Divinity-Lectures; and though all Preachers could not easily enlarge themselves there, yet he would still call upon them to accustom themselves to it. He would relate a passage of Mr. Dod, concerning Mr. Cartwright, who often preached at Hanwell, occasionally in his days) Me thought (said Mr. Dod) whilst I heard him the Doctrinal part of his Sermon, I was in Heaven, but when he came to Apply, I sometime thought, that had I been in his place, I could presently apply his point more closely.  
Many young Preachers resorted to him for counsel, both for their private studies, and the Pulpit. He would persuade young men, for many reasons, to pen largely, and to keep their Notes for all Emergencies, often commending Mr. Dods words, who professed, That he would rather preach an old Sermon ten times, than speak any thing new without preparation. He would say, That he would have a Preacher able to exceed himself upon just occasion, and not always to kee pthe same pace. Although this held not always in himself, for (generally) his hearers commended those Sermons most, which cost least; and himself would say, That he never came off with worse comfort and content to himself, than when he was in appearance best provided; and he gave his reason, not because he had used diligence in preparing (for that was duty) but because then he was aptest to presume upon himself, and to neglect his dependence on God.  
Many took his advice for books in Divinity, to whom he would open himself freely; some he would persuade to read Ames his Medulla, Tileni Syntagma, Bucanus, and such like; To some others he would commend Aquinas his Sums (which Dr. John Reynolds was wont to call that absolute body of Divinity) Melchior Canus, and of late Mr. Bowles his Pastor Evangelicus; But still would he call upon all to read the Text in the tongues, and to Analyse Chapters. This he persuaded Mr. Pemble to, and set him upon the Book of the Preacher, Ecclesiastes (which he accounted a very hard Book, till he met with that brief, but pithy exposition of that incomparable Divine Dr. Edward Reynolds) and after that upon Zachary. When he was consulted with about Writers, he would ask what they aimed at in a Writer, for men had their several excellencies. For Acuteness he would commend Mr. Baine, and his second, Dr. Ames, Mr. John Ball, Mr. Capel, etc. if they attended the spiritual part of Divinity, he would leave them to Dr. Sibbs; If the Rational, to Dr. Preston, if the Historical to Bishop Usher. For solid Preachers, he much prized Dr. saunderson's first works (to his latter he was a mere stranger) Mr. Randall, Mr. Hildersham, Dr. Reynolds, etc. And for all the requisites in a Preacher, both for matter, method, elocution, pronunciation, all, he would often say, That he seldom met with an abler man than his Brother Whateley of Banbury.  
His judgement being asked upon Commentators, he would say, that he was now more of Dr. J. Reynolds mind than ever, concerning Calvin, for upon experience (would he say) I find that most of the late Writers do but descant upon his plain song, and the Jesuits were very Plagiaries, who will first rob him, and then rail at him.  
Next to him he would commend sundry later men, as Pareus, Rivet, Mr. Cartwright especially, together with some Popish Writers, as Maldonate, (whose wit and learning he commended better than his spirit.) Before him, Learned Masius, Modest Ribera, and (for aught he found by him) Honest Estius. Being asked about the best Editions, he would say, that what was said of Homer, was true of the Fathers, and the first Popish Writers, viz. That was the best still, which was least corrected. Of the Ancient Fathers, he would say, that unless it were for their Polemical, and Historical parts, their writings were more for devotion and affection, than for their judgement and understanding.  
For Modern Authors, this was his Opinion generally, that what Englishmen did ex professo, undertake, they did best perform. No men beyond them in expounding Scriptures, in answering Papists, Arminians, etc. None equal to them in the Pulpit, or in Practical, or Case-Divinity; and herein he held Cambridge very happy in her Whitakers, downham's, Davenants, Perkinses, to omit many more; and at Oxon he would lay one J. 
Dr. C.  Reynolds (to pass in silence a younger Reynolds, and his Son-in-Law born a Schoolman) in the balance with hundreds, as a man never sufficiently admired for his humility, as well as for his learning.  
For Schoolmen, he liked many things in them, but only their awkward and ignorant quoting of Scriptures, and multiplying useless Questions, with needless obscurities.  
For Lutherans, he commended divers of them for Learning and Industry, but disliked their tartness.  
Arminius (though none of the best) he liked better than his Disciples and Successors, who were more desperate and dangerous in the five controverted Points, than many Papists.  
As for Socinianism, he held it but a kind of Blanched Mahometism. Generally, he observed this, That those Papists, who were most conversant in the Scriptures, came nearest to us; the same of the Lutherans also, as Chemnitius, Gerrard, Hemingius, etc.  
For our condition at home, he was sparing to say much, yet some things lay much upon his spirit. As  
1 He complained, that the Power of Godliness, and Exercise of Love, and Self-denial, were much abated in these latter days. He did much bewail the vast difference (in garb and practice) twixt new and old Professors.  
2 That the indulgence yielded to tender consciences, was much abused to profaneness, whilst men of no conscience most pleaded that liberty of choosing their own Churches and Teachers, and on the matter abandoned all.  
3 That the liberty of Prophesying, which some pretend to, was abused to mere licentiousness, and confusion; some making none, some all Prophets and Preachers.  
4 That in the University, few could be called constant Students, but the most made a short work of it, and posted into the Pulpit before they understood their grounds, so that few were enabled to encounter Emergent Errors.  
5 That in the Church, men were in extremes; some pressing nothing but Law, others preaching nothing but the Gospel and Christ.  
6 He complained of the want of catechising, and principling youth, the want of which he saw by experience, occasioned the people's giddiness.  
7 But most of all he bewailed the readiness of many to side and make divisions; he did not love to use, or to hear used, dividing names and titles, which occasioned him often to relate Mr. greenham's Answer to Treasurer Cecil, who being asked on which side the blame lay in that great Rend betwixt the Bishops and Anti-Bishops, answered, that the fault was on both sides, and in neither side; for (said he) the godly-wise on both sides bear with each other, and concentre in the main, but then there be selfish, peevish spirits, on both sides some, and these make the quarrel.  
He applied this to our times, and distinctions of Presbyterian and INDEPENDENT. Men of humble and sincere hearts, though different in Opinions, can and do walk together, pray together, and love one another; but men, who wholly look at their own interests, blow the coals, and far, as if the Opinions were irreconcilable, and every one to be disaffected to Christ's cause, who goes not their pace and path.  
For his own part he did profess freely, that he was not convinced of some things earnestly pressed touching Church-Government; he did not conceive any one external form to be so essential to a Church, but that it might still deserve that name, though under a Presbyterian, or Independent, or Episcopal form, so long as it was kept within the bounds of those general Rules left in the Scriptures. It is true, some of these had been abused to Tyranny, and the rest might in time be abused also, but the use and abuse of things are far different; he would not commend either one side or other in their rigid exactions in some cases.  
For Presbytery, though he thought that B. Bilson could never (with all his learning) disprove the being of lay Elders in the Apostles times, yet he thought it not so easy a thing to prove the perpetuity of such an Ordinance to the world's end, especially so clothed, and attended with all those Perquisites which some heretofore called for; he thought that there was some reason in that distinction of Juris Humani, and Jure Humano, what ever his Application was, who first used it; but for the thing itself, sigh it is not altogether disproved, but allowed, yea, once commanded, and not since retracted (for aught he knew) he saw no reason why any man should, eo nomine, be aspersed, because a Presbyterian, by any Dissenting Brethren.  
For the other of Independency, he confessed that it was a politic way, and free from much trouble and opposition, for who shall oppose the Minister, when all are of his mind before they are admitted? notwithstanding he could never satisfy himself, (though upon occasion he often desired it) in some Particulars. As  
1 What warrant there is to take out of another's flock his best sheep, and to entertain them without his consent or testimony? he asks whether any man would be willingly so served, were it his case; and further offers, whether this would not open a gap, that so soon as a member is offended with his own Pastor (haply upon deserved reproof) presently to be received of another.  
2 To leave the cullen sheep in a hard condition, for he asks how they are looked upon? and truly, the Answer must be, little otherwise than on Heathen. The Minister may preach to such, and what more may he do to these, when the chief are gone?  
3 This way seemed to him to be very destructive to that relation between Pastor and People.  
4 Further, he conceived this way of gathering of Churches into private places and companies, to be prejudicial to God's public worship, experience showing us, that in many places of late, the public ordinances are mostly disused, preaching only excepted, which might be vouchsafed to Cannibals, if they would hear.  
Lastly, For Congregations to consist of members at such a distance, as that one should live in the North, another in the South, etc. many miles asunder, where there shall be little inspection on the Pastor's part, little communion and edification on the People's part, this, he would say, he did not understand, nor could he find any precept in the word, or any precedent or practice thereof in Antiquity, so long as we speak of Churches constituted, and out of persecution, banishment, etc. These things he did sparingly write or speak with much fear and grief.  
Amongst the rest, he did very much bewail the so much slighting of solemn Ordination of Ministers, the function being so sacred, the work of the Ministry so important, and the Minister of so Public Concernment; he could but wonder, when as in all other offices, there is such a solemnity at men's instalments and augurations, that a Minister and Ambassador of Jesus Christ, should be silently admitted, without fasting, prayer, and public solemnity.  
Thus for the public; as to private Passages, it were endless to write all his Observations, he being a man very observing. I'll name a few.  
He observed, that such who often changed their principles and faith professed, fell usually from Scepticism to Atheism.  
That so much humility as any man had, so much grace and worth, and no more.  
That nothing was to be accounted good in or to any man, but that which was his proper fruit, and done by virtue of his calling, from a principle of God, and for him.  
That the best man had no security from any one sin, or fall, or temptation, any further or longer than he was held up by Christ's hand & mediation.  
That God did often leave us to own Satan's suggestions as ours, because we did not own God in his holy motions and breathe,  
That it was just with God to deny us the comforts of our graces, when we denied him the glory of them.  
In himself he observed, that what he unseasonably forgot in the week, would press in unseasonably on the Sabbath. That he could, durst he, contrive more worldly business on the Sabbath, than he could dispatch all the week.  
That he found no greater enemy than discouragement, that child of pride and unbeleef.  
He would say, that he found some duties (often in men's mouths) very difficult to him. As  
To deny himself in all his selves, was a work to be learning whilst he lived.  
To live only by Faith, and upon a bare promise without a pawn, was a great work.  
To give all from self to free grace, and to Christ alone, was a mighty work.  
To love against unlovingness and contempt, no easy matter.  
To do one's proper work, without some present pay and countenance from God and man, was a hard task.  
That it was far harder to adopt another's comforts than sorrows, and to hold himself honoured in another's exaltation.  
Lastly, That to die in cold blood, and to be active in it, as an act of obedience, was THE work of a Christian.  
In his sickness he would occasionally vent himself thus.  
It is a hard thing to think ill of our selves, and well of God, at the same time.  
It was a hard thing for a Saint to forgive himself some faults when God had forgiven them.  
It was hard to think holy thoughts long, and to confine them to another's prayers.  
That we know but little of Christ's love, till all was perfected, and spread before us in Heaven.  
For his children, he referred them to an old Will, made Anno 1636. at what time his children were many and small.  
A Copy of that Advice to his children (though it be not of such general use to his immediate children, as the case now stands) yet being of use to theirs and others posterity, is thought fit here to be added.  

Dr. Harris' Advice and Counsel to his Family, annexed to an old Will, Dated May 2. 1636. Penned with his own hand, and printed exactly according to the Original.  
To my dear Wife and Children.  
MY dear Selves, I know not what leisure I shall have to speak unto you at my death, and, I am not, you know, very free in speech, especially in sickness and sadness; and therefore now I will speak my heart to you, and I would have you to hear me speaking whilst you live, in this my Writing which I divide amongst you all.  
First, For you my dear Wife, you shall find the substance of that I would say to you, printed to your hand in the Book of Martyrs, Vol. 2. p. 1744. To wit, J. Careless his Letter to his Wife, keep the Book, often read the Letter. Only one thing I add, if you marry again, remember your own observation, to wit, that second Husbands are very uxorious, second Wives very prevalent; and take heed that you do no ill office in estranging your Husband from his natural children or kindred, you shall draw upon him a great, both sin and judgement, If you kill in him natural affection; I have said, and do with all the strength and power that is in me, thank you for your faithfulness, and resign you to the Husband of Husbands, the Lord Christ.  
Now my poor Children, let me pour forth my heart to you, and speak to your Souls first.  

For your Souls.  
Trifle not in the main point, the Soul is immortal, you have to deal with an Infinite Majesty, you go upon life and death, therefore here be serious; do all to God in a serious manner; when you think of him, speak of him, pray to him, any way make your Address to his Great Majesty, be in good earnest, and, have God, and have all.  
1 More particularly, Get your pardon in Christ; it is not impossible to get it assured to you, if you will learn, 1 To deny yourselves. 2 To live by Faith. 3 To understand the nature of the new Covenant. Settle your judgements in these points, and the thing is feasible.  
2 Having gotten it, be still adding to your evidence, and enjoy your present assurance; do all to God, as to your Father.  
Next to this, think how you and I shall endure the sight, the thought one of another at the last day, if you appear in the old Adam; much less shall you stand before Christ, unless you show the Image of Christ in you; and therefore never cease till you be made new Creatures; and study well what that is.  
In the last place, Strive for those graces most, which most concern your places and conditions, and make head to those sins which most threaten you; as first, haereditary sins. I was naturally melancholy; that is a humour which admits of any temptation, and is capable of any impression and distemper; eat, as death, this humour, which will work you to all unthankfulness against God, unlovingness to man, and unnaturalness to yourselves. 2 Of your times and habitations. 3 Of your tempers and age. 4 Of your callings.  
I have made my own peace, my sins shall not hurt you, if you make them not yours; you need not fear the success, if you will oppose to sin, Christ is made sanctification to you, he came to dissolve the works of Satan, he hath overcome for you, and hath made as many promises for your sanctification, as your justification; gather those promises as they be set down, especially in the Covenant, with an oath (Luke 1) press these to God, V 2 Cor. 7.1.  
In short, do not talk and make a noise to get a name of forward men, but do the thing, be constant in secret duties, and act Religion in your callings, for it is not a name or notion, it is a frame of nature, and an habit of living by Divine Rule; what it is you will then know when you have it in truth first, and in power next, and not before. Only this for the present, it is that you must live and die by, that you must rise and reign by; therefore my Children I give you that advice which I gave your Brother, now with God; 
Tho. H.  be more than you seem, do more than you talk of in point of Religion; satisfy your own consciences in what you do, all men you shall never satisfy, nay, some will not be satisfied, though they be convinced.   

For your Body.  
I was troubled with straightness of breast, and breath, which was also Haereditary, and therefore you must fear it the more.  
The remedies are, 1 Disclaim Haereditary sins. 2 Keep heads clean, feet warm, hearts cheerful. 3 Bee more frequent than I and your Brother in exercise. 4 Eat late drinking or studying. 5 Use lighter suppers.   

For your callings.  
1 Choose well. 1 A profitable calling for the Public. 2 A full Employment. 3 A Calling fit for your parts and means; it is better to be a rich Cobbler, than a poor Merchant.  
2 Use a Calling well. 1 Make it a help, not a snare to your souls. 2 Bee 1 Diligent. 2 Skilful; any honest Calling will honour you, if thus you honour it, and thereof you may be hopeful, because, myself (who had not your parts and helps) never found any thing too hard for me in my calling, but discouragement and unbelief.   

For your Company.  
Abandon all infectious, flattering, self-serving Companions, when once you have found them false, trust them no more; sort with such as are able to do or receive good. Solomon gives you best Counsel for this in many places. Read the Proverbs, and remember him in this. 1 Forsake not an old friend. 2 Bee friendly and faithful to your friends. 3 Never trouble or trust friends unless there be a necessity. 4 Lastly, be long in closing with friends, and loath to lose them, upon experience of them.   

For your Marriages.  
In Marriage you lay the foundation of your Present woe and weal, therefore here be not rash, go not alone, yet remember Paul, 1 Cor. 7.2. 1. Study whether you have a Calling to marry, yea or no, and advise well of that; if none, forbear; if so, advise with friends, before your affections be engaged. In your choice 1 Aim at grace. 2 Good nature and Education, the best woman is not ever the best wife. 3 Good parts of understanding, housewifery, etc. As for Portion, be it more or less, be upon certainties, and trust not words; and for Parentage, let not the distance be too great, lest you despise, or be despised; however, be sure that the Person likes not your fancy, but judgement.   

For your Children.  
Make it your chiefest work to make them, 1 Godly. 2 Useful. Bestow most of their portions in good Education; and if grace make no difference, do you make none in your affections, countenances, portions: Partiality this way ends in nothing else but envy, strangeness, etc.   

For yourselves within yourselves.  
My desire hath been to carry an even hand over you all, and have laboured to reduce you, as near as I could (all circumstances considered) to an equality, and therefore my last request and charge is, that you will live together in an undivided bond of love; you are many of you, and if you join together as one man, you need not want any thing: what counsel, what comfort, what money, what friends may not you help yourselves unto, if you will contribute your aids? wherefore my dear children, I pray, beseech, command, adjure you, by all the relations and dearness that hath ever been betwixt us, that you know one another, visit (as you may) each other, comfort, counsel, relieve, succour, help, admonish one another. Whilst your Mother lives, meet there (if possible) yearly. When she is dead, pitch upon some other place, if it may be, your eldest Brothers house, or if you cannot meet, yet send to, and hear from one another yearly: and when you have neither Father nor Mother, be so many Fathers and Mothers each to other, so you shall understand the blessing mentioned in Psal. 133.   

For your Estates.  
Be not troubled that you are below your kindred, get more wisdom, humility, goodness, and you are above them; only this do. 1 Study work more than wages. 2 Deal with your hearts to make them less. 3 Begin low. 4 Join together to help one another. 5 Rest upon the promises, which are many and precious this way. 6 Sow mercy; take of your Mother (to this end)— a piece, give that in works of mercy, and if all other means fail you, that shall maintain you; I know, I know I say, and am confident in it, that if you will be humbled for my barrenness, and will trust God in his own way, he will make comfortable provision for you; object no more, but trust him.   

For the Public.  
Bless God that you are born Englishmen, and bear yourselves dutifully and conscionably toward Authority; see God in the Magistrate, and hold Order a precious thing: and for the Church, neither set her above her Husband Christ, nor below her Children, give her that honour, obedience, respect, that is her due; and if you will be my children, and heirs of my comfort in my dying age be neither Authors nor Fautors of any, either faction or novelty. 'Tis true, this is not a rising way, but it is a free, fair, comfortable way for a man to follow his own judgement, without warping to either hand. Perhaps you may hear variety of judgements touching my walk, when I sleep in silence, some taxing me for too much, some for too little Conformity, but be not ye troubled, I did what in my circumstances seemed best to me, for the present; howsoever the event hath not in some points answered expectation, yet I have learned to measure things by another rule than events, and satisfy myself in this, that I did all for the best, as I thought. Sure I am, my Surety Christ is perfect, and never failed so much as in Circumstance. To him I commit your souls, bodies, estates, names, posterities, lives, deaths, all, and myself, waiting when he shall change my vile body, and make it glorious like unto his own. Amen, Even so come Lord Jesus. Amen.    
FINIS.