MEMORIALS OF WORTHY PERSONS. (Lights and Ornaments OF THE Church of England.)  
The Fourth Decad.  
By CL: BARKSDALE.  Hi Majores tui sunt, si te illis dignum prastes. Sen. 
OXFORD, Printed by A. and L. Lichfield, 1663.   

TO Mr THOMAS SAVAGE,  Son of THOMAS SAVAGE, of Elmeley, Esq; AND TO Mr THOMAS WILLIAMS, Eldest Son of DAVID WILLIAMS, of Corndon, Esq;  
GENTLEMEN,  
HAving in the late evil Times (never to be forgotten) been comforted and relieved by the real Favours and pious Munificence of your Noble Parents, I do gladly make this grateful Remembrance thereof in the Dedication of this part of my Memorials of Worthy Persons to your Worthy Names. In these Papers, though it were my principal design to honour the memory of the Lights of our own Church, yet have I now and then taken in one of the Roman or Genevian Persuasion, thinking They might not be unsociable here, whose holy Souls, I believe (now that the Certamina are ended by death pulveris exigui jactu) rest in peace. Some Hypereriticks (who are pleased with nothing but what they do themselves, if yet they do any thing at all:) will despise me, and say I do actum agere, and write what is written already. Truly, as a Historian does not make, but frame and compose his matter; so an Historical Collector performs his Undertaking, when with diligence and judgement he selecteth and compileth dispersed pieces for the ease and benefit of his Readers.  
If in this Collection I have done any service to Young Gentlemen, and other ingenuous Persons, to incline them more to love piety and learning, to converse with good Men and good Books, to become loving friends and Patrons, or obedient servants and Ministers to the Church of England; This is my Delight and Joy; This is, to me, instead of Praise, or any other Reward of my well-meant Endeavours.  
That I have inscribed upon the particulars, the names of other friends, is upon the most friendly Pliny's reason, Ingenuum est fateri per quos profeceris.  
Your obliged Servant, CL. BARKSDALE.   

The Persons.  

I. Dr Colet.  
II. Mr Langley.  
III. Bishop Morton.  
iv Bishop Hall.  
V Mr G. Herbert.  
VI Sir Tho: More.  
VII. Sir Henry Wotton.  
VIII. Bishop Bedel.  
IX. M. Ant. de Dom.  
X. Mr Wheelock.    


JOANNES COLETUS Cum cotis Aomas exculte COLEET Esorores Te doctos inter posthuma fama refert.    

MEMORIALS. I. Dr JOHN COLET, Dean of S. Paul's.  
Out of his Life, Collected by Mr Tho: Smith of Ch: Coll: from Erasmus. D. Anthonio Stratford LL. Bac.  
1. JOhn 
* Coheleth in the Heb. signifies Ecclesiastes, the Preacher. Colet is that part of the ring wherein the precious stone or signet is set. Thomas. in voce pala.  Colet was born in London, the Son of Henry Colet (Knight, and twice Lord Major of that City) and Christian his Wife, a Matron of very rare Piety and Christian Fortitude. She had 11 Sons, and as many Daughters of the same Husband: all which she saw bu●ied, except John, her first born. Yet, when she was fourscore and ten years of Age, her countenance was so comely and entire, her behaviour so cheerful and pleasant, as if she had never had any sorrow or any childbearing in her life. So much strength of mind was shown in a woman, caused not by Philosophy or human learning, but by sincere piety to God and trust in Christ.  
2. Nature was as indulgent to him as fortune; for he had a very proper, tall, handsome and comely body. In his younger days he much addicted himself to the study of Scholastical Philosophy, tightly learned in the liberal Arts: All Tully's works were as familiar to him as his Epistles: so well read in Plato and Plotinus, that when I heard him speak, methought I heard Plato himself: not ignorant in any part of the Mathematics.  
3. Being thus well principled at home (Master of Arts) he began to look abroad, and improve his stocking foreign parts. In France he added to his Humanity, what he chought necessary for the study of Divinity: which than he effectually prosecuted in Italy. He studied the Fathers and Schoolmen: was well versed in both Laws: singularly read in History, both Civil and Ecclesiastical. Modern Writers also, he both read and diligently imitated, accommodating thereby his stile to the Pulpit, and preaching of the Gospel.  
4. After his return from Italy, he stayed not long in London, (where his Parents lived) but chose to live in Oxford; where he publicly (yet freely and without stipend) expounded S. Paul's Epistles, being not full thirty years of age, younger than▪ was by two or three months. I here and then I had the happiness to come first acquainted with him. Though at that time he had neither took, nor desired any degree in Divinity; yet there was no Doctor whatsoever, either of Theology or Law, no Abbot nor dignified Person in the whole University, that did not frequent and (which is more) take notes of his Lectures. Which was to be imputed either to Colet's authority, or their studiousness and modesty, choose you whether.  
5. But before he left Oxford, they honoured him with the Degree of Doctor: which he accepted, rather to please the Givers than himself. From that University and these sacred Employments, he was called back to London by the favour of K. Henry VII. who bestowed upon him the Deanty of S. Paul's: that he might be Precedent of his College, whose Epistles and learning he loved so well: (He was made both Doctor and Dean An. 1504) Of all the Deaneries in Engla●d the highest in esteem, but not of greatest value: which Colet embraced rather as a barthensom charge, than honour. And therefore, as soon as he had regulated his College of prebend's, and raised up the ancient Discipline that was fallen down, he resolved (which was not usual in those times) to preach every Holy day in his Cathedral, over and above his Sermons at Court, and many other Churches. At S. Paul's he ran over, sometimes a whole Epistle, sometime, a whole Gospel, the Creed, or the Lord's prayer. Wheresoever he preached, he was exceedingly followed, both by the chief Citizens and Courtiers: particularly by Sir Thomas More (afterwards Lord Chanc: of England) as appears by this following passage of his Letter: What can be more troublesome to me, than to be deprived of your sweet company? having been so long used to enjoy your most prudent counsel, to be refreshed with your most pleasant society, to be roused with your most grave Sermons, and bettered by your excellent example and life: in a word, in whose very countenance and gesture I was wont to be unspeakablie delighted.  
6. The Dean's Table, which in former times had, under pretence of good house keeping, been too much prostitute to excess, he reduced to frugality. For he kept himself to one meal a day many years together, both before and after his preferment: which at once cut off all his supper-guests: late Dinners not a few: and the more, because his entertainment (though neat) was neither costly nor excessive; his sitting short, and his whole discourse such as pleased none but those that were either learned or pious. For soon after he had said Grace, his Boy read a Chapter (distinctly and aloud) out of S. Paul's Epistles, or Solomon's Proverbs; from which he himself, for the most part, picked the subject of that meals discourse, ask not only Scholars, but even ordinary people, if they were ingenuous, what was the meaning of this or that passage: with as much satisfaction to their minds, as refreshment to their bodies. He affected neatness in his householdstuff, , books, meat; but not magnificence: and was so much averse from all filthiness, that he could not endure solecisms or barbarous language. He was hugely delighted with the conference of his friends, who oft kept him till late at night: but all his conference was either of literature, or Jesus Christ. If he had no acceptable friend to chat with (for every one did not please him) his boy did read somewhat to him out of godly books. Sometimes he called me to ride abroad with him: and then he was as merry as any man alive: but a good book was always his Comrade in his journey, and his talk was continually of Christ.  
7. Whatsoever Revenues accrued unto him by the Church, he entirely committed to his Steward, to be distributed and spent in house-keeping. His own hereditary rents and profits (which were vast) he himself distributed to pious uses. For, his Father being dead, money flowed in apace from what was left him by inheritance: and lest that being kept should breed some disease in him, he therewith erected a stately new School in Paul's Churchyard, dedicated to the Holy Child JESUS: whereunto he joined fair dwellings for two Schoolmasters, to whom he assigned liberal stipends, that they might teach gratis, but so as they should not admit above a certain number (viz. 153. from Jo. XXI. 11.) Above the Master's Chair, stands the Holy Child JESUS, curiously engraven, in the posture of one reading a Lecture, with this Motto, HEAR HIM: which words I advised him to set up. And all the young fry, when they come in and go out of School (besides their appointed prayers) salute Christ with an Hymn 
† Which you may read amongst Erasmus' Epigrams. , Every Class containeth 16. boys, and the best Scholar of each sits in a seat somewhat more eminent than the rest, with the word CAPITANEUS engraven in golden letters over his head.  
8. Our quicksighted Dr Colet saw very well, that the main hope and pillar of a Commonwealth consists in furnishing youth with good literature, and therefore did he bestow so much care and cost on this School. Though it stood him in and infinite sum of money to build and endow it, yet he would accept of no partner. One left indeed a Legacy of an 100 pounds sterling to the structure of it; but Colet thinking, that if he took it, 
Tam ingentes sumtus ut s●trapā quoque deterrere possint. Eras. Ep. ded. ad Cop. Verb. which book he wrote for the benefit of Paul 's School, as he wrote his book called Ecclesiastes (at the request of B. Fisher) for Christ's Coll. and S. John's in Cambrige.  some lay people would challenge to themselves, I know not what authority over the School, did by the permission of the Bishop bestow it upon holy Vestments for the Quire. Yet, though he would suffer no lay man to have a finger in the building, he entrusted no Clergy man (not so much as the Bishop, Dean and Chapter of S. Paul's) nor any of the Nobility, with the oversight of the Revenues, but some married Citizens of honest report. When he was asked, why he would do so? he answered, That there was nothing certain in human affairs; but he found least corruption in such men.  
9 As all men highly 
Morus in Epist. ad Col. Neque valde miror, si clariss. scholae tuae rumpantur invidia. Vident enim, uti ex equo Troj. predierunt Graeci, qui barbaram diruêre Trojam, sic è tua prodire Schola, qui ipsorum arguunt & subvertunt stultitiam.  esteemed him for his School; so many wondered why he would build so stately an house, within the bounds of the Carthusian Monastery, not far from the Palace at Richmond: but he told them, That he provided that seat for himself in his old age, when he should be unfit for labours, or broken with diseases, and so constrained to retire from the society of men. There he intended to philosophise with two or three eminent friends, among which he was wont to reckon me, but death prevented him. For being few years before his decease visited thrice with the sweeting sickness (a disease which seized no Country men but English) though he recovered, yet he thereupon grew consumptive, and so died. He was buried in the South side of the Choir of his own Cathedral, in a low Sepulchre, which he to that end had chose for himself some years before, with this inscription, JOHN COLET.  
10. Somewhat I shall add, first of his Nature, secondly of his paradoxical Opinions, and lastly of his Afflictions, wherewith his ingenuous piety was exercised: for some whereof he might have thanked his own natural temper. For he was of a very high spirit, huge impatient of any injury, wonderfully prone to lascivioufnesse, luxury and overmuch sleep, to feasting and facetiousness above measure (all this he confessed to me himself) and he was not wholly safe from covetousness. But against each of these, he fought such a good fight, by Philosophy, Divine Contemplations, watching, fasting and prayer, that he led the whole course of his life free from the infections of this world; and as far as I could any ways gather (by familiarity and much liberal converse with him) was a pure Virgin to his dying day. All his wealth he distributed to pious uses. He did so daily endeavour to conquer all his passions, and subdue the haughtiness of his mind by reason, that he would take it well to be admonished even by a child. Lasciviousness, sleep and luxury he chased away by abstaining constantly from supper, by continual sobriety, indefatigable study, and holy Conferences. But yet, when there was occasion, either to discourse with fair Ladies, or jest with witty persons, or feast with pleasant, a man might easily perceive some footsteps of his nature: which made him, for the most part, keep from the society of all lay people, but especially from banquets, to which, when he must needs come, he commonly took with him me or some learned friend, with whom he discoursed in Latin, that he might avoid idle talk. His custom was to eat only of one dish, to content himself with one glass of bear or ale, or two at the most. And, though he was delighted with good wine, yet he drank very little of it, always suspecting his own sanguine complexion and inclination, and being wary of all those things, by which he might offend any person whatsoever. In all my life I never saw a more happy Wit: and thence it came that he was exceedingly pleased with such Wits as were like himself: but at all times, when he might choose his discourse, it was of such things as prepared him for the immortality of a life to come. And when at any time he refreshed himself with pleasant stories, he did not fail to make use of his Philosophy in them. He was much pleased with the simplicity of nature in little children (to the imitation of ●hom we are called by our blessed Saviour) being wont to compare them to Angels.  
11. Now for the second particular his Opinions, he much differed in them from the Vulgar. The Scotists (of whose acuteness most men have an high conceit) he esteemed heavy fellows, and any thing rather than ingenuous. And yet he had a worse opinion of Thomas Aquinas than of Scotus: who, said he, if he had not been very arrogant, would never so rashly (and yet so magisteriallie) have presumed to define all points of religion: and if he had not savoured too much of the spirit of the world. he would not have polluted all the doctrine of Christ with so much of his own profane Philosophy. No man was more a friend to true Christian piety, yet he had little or no kindness for Monks, or rather I should say for those who are now (for the most part falsely) so called: and therefore, while he lived, he gave them but little, and when he died, nothing: not that he hated their profession, but because he saw they did not live according to it. Yet his desire was, to have disengaged himself from the world, and betaken himself to a Monastery, if he could any any where have found a Society, that was truly and unanimously resolved upon an Evangelical life. Though he lived very chastely himself, yet he had a very charitable opinion of those Priests and Monks, who had no other crime but venery: not that he did not hearty abhor the sin, but because he found such men far less mischieveous than others (if compared) who were haughty, envious, backbiters, hypoctites, vain, unlearned, wholly given to the getting of money and honour. And he was not more averse to any sort of men, than such Bishops, who were Wolves instead of Shepherds, and commended themselves by external service of God, ceremonies, benedictions and indulgences to the people, while with all their hearts they served the world: i. e. glory and gain. He was not much displeased with them, who would not have images (either painted or carved, gold or silver) worshipped in Churches: nor with them, who doubted whether a notorious wicked Priest could consecrate the Sacrament. Hereby not favouring their error, but expressing his indignation against such Clergymen, who by an open bad life gave occasion to this suspicion. As he did much approve of secret confession (professing that he never had so much comfort from any thing as that) so he much condemned anxiety in it, and repetition. He was content to Sacrifice on Sundays and Holy days, or some few days beside: either to gain more time for his sacred studies, and fit himself the better for his Pulpit employments, and the business of his Cathedral; or, because he found that his dovotion had a greater edge, when it was sharpened with intervals: and yet, he would not condemn them who were minded to come to the Lords Table every day. Though he was a very learned man himself, yet he did not prise the vast and confused learning of such as wander among various sciences and books, saying, They got rather a learned sort of madness, than any true incentive to Christian innocence, simplicity and charity. He dissented from innumerable opinions commonly received in the Schools: in which, he would sometimes tell his mind to his friends, but say nothing to others, lest he should incur a double inconvenience, lose his own credit, and do them no good, perhaps harm.  
12. And now in the last place hear his Afflictions. He never agreed well with his Bishop, who (to say nothing of his manners) was a superstitious and stubborn Scotist. Neither was the Doctor acceptable to most of his own College, because he was very tenacious of regular discipline; and the prebend's complained, that he used them as Monks: whereas indeed that College was anciently called East-monasterie. The old Bishop exhibited Articles against him to the Archbishop of Cant: That he said, Images were not to be worshipped, etc. But the Archbishop being well acquainted with Colet's excellencies, instead of being his Judge, became his Advocate. Then the old man strove to incense the Court against him, especially K. Henry VIII. himself: because the Doctor (when the King was raising forces against the French) had said in a Sermon: That an unjust peace was to be preferred before a most just war. Here the King (who was an excellent person in his youth) gave an evident proof of his Royal parts, exhorting the Dean privately; To go on in his preaching, freely to tax the corrupt manners of that age, and not to withdraw his light in those most dark times; adding, That he knew very well what incensed the Bishops so highly against him, and how much good the Dean had done by his Divine life and holy Doctrine to the English Church and Nation: Lastly, that he would so curb their endeavours, that it should appear to the world, Whoever troubled Colet should not escape unpunished. Hereupon the Dean humbly thanked the King for his Royal favour, but beseeched him not to do so; professing, That he had rather lay down his preferment, then that any should suffer for his sake. Again, upon Good-Friday, the Dean made a Sermon to the King and Courtiers, which was much admired, concerning the victory of Christ: wherein he exhorted all Christians to fight under the banner of their heavenly King, and overcome, saying, That they, who either through hatred, or ambition, or courteousness, do fight with evil men, and so kill one another, fight not under the banner of Christ, but the Devil; showing withal. How hard a thing it is, to die like a Christian: How few go forth to battle free from hatred and covetousness; and how difficult for such to be in charity (without which no man shall see God) who sheath their swords in their brethren's bowels: adding, That they should rather imitate their King Christ, than Pagan Caesars and Alexa●ders. And he had so many other smart passages to this purpose, that his Majesty was somewhat afraid, lest this Sermon would dishearten the Soldiers that were listed. But, when Colet came before the King, in his garden at Greenwich, the King bids him cover his head, and speak his mind freely: and then his Highness began thus, Dean, be not surprised with needless fears, I did not send for you hither to disturb your most holy labours, which I resolve to cherish as much as I can; but to unload my conscience of some scruples, and to desire your advice concerning my duty. The Conference lasted almost an hour and an half, and I must not relate it all. Only, his Majesty wished, That what the Dean spoke truly he would speak some time or other more plainly, lest the rude Soldiers should misunderstand it, as if he had said, That no war is lawful among Christians. So the King called fo● a Cup, and drank to him, embraced him most kindly, and promising him all the favours that could be expected from a most loving Prince, dismissed him; and turning to the Courtiers said, Well, let other men choose what Doctors they please, and make much of them, This man shall be my Doctor. From that day forward never durst his enemy's trouble Colet any more: a person, that, in an high fortune and plenty, was led and governed not by his nature, but by Christ: in a word, whom I shall not doubt to reckon in the Catalogue of my Saints, though he be never canonised by any Pope. Thus far Erasmus.  
13. I shall only annex a few lines collected out of Stow's Survey of London in fol. concerning his kindred. His father Sir Henry Colet (son to Robert Colet of Wendover in Buckinghamshier, Esq.) was buried at Stepney, where his Monument still remains. And the Pictures of Sir Henry and his Dame Christian, and ten of his Sons, and ten of his Daughters, remain in the window, on the North side of St Anthony (or Antlin) his Church near Budgerow. But he was born in the Manor of Hale in Buckinghamshire, near Wendover, and Alesburie: which Manor our Doctor left to Paul's School, an● some of his name dwell there still. See hi● Monument excellently described by learne● Mr Dugdale in his History of St Paul's Cathedral.  
Ob. An. Dom. 1519. aet. 53.   


 
   



From a rare Pen there came to fill this Place  
A Character too rich to suit the Face;  
The Author saw't▪ and (to himself best known)  
Admired the Love, durst not the Notions own:  
And for himself, and for his Book, he says,  
What's good is Gods, and Gods alone the praise:  
Sermons take not from men's applause Renown;  
The People's Practice is the Preachers Crown.   
D: Loggan. delin: et seu●●.    

II. Mr JOHN LANGLY. Master of Paul's School.  
Out of his Funeral Sermon by Dr Ed: Reynolds (now L B. of N.) M ro: Markly, Scholar Winche.  
1. LEarning is so excellent an endowment, that the Teachers of it ought to be ●ad in great honour. And I scarce know a greater defect in this Nation, than the w●nt of such encouragement and maintenance as might render the Calling of a Schoolmaster so honourable, as men of great learning might be invited unto that service. Errors in the first concoction, are not mended in the second: what is lo●t in the School, is hardly ever fully recovered in the University, And by how much the fewer men of great worth and parts are employed in that Service, by so much the more should the loss of rare and worthy men in that way be bewailed by us.  
2. Great was the happiness of this City in this particular, while it enjoyed this worthy man, and great the loss in being deprived of him. For though, through God's goodness, there be many excellent men remaining, out of whom some reparation may be made of so great a damage; yet still I look on the departure of this man, as if the middle and most precious stone in a rich Jewel should drop out, which, though many others remain in, cannot but be greatly miss.  
3. Our dear Brother was a learned man, learned in the whole Body of Learning: not only an excellent Linguist and Grammarian, Historian, Cosmographer, Artist, but a most judicious Divine, and a great Antiquary in the most memorable things of this Nation. Into whatsoever parts of the Land he traveled, he was able to refresh and to instruct his Fellow-travellers in the most remarkable particulars of every Country. Pausanias' was not more accurate in the description of Greece, than he of England. And I have heard, that he had it sometimes in his thoughts to have published some thing in this kind. He was a man of a solid Judgement: he always spoke è sulco pectoris, and I have, not without great satisfaction, heard him give his Notions upon difficult places of Scripture, and Arguments of Divinity in ordidinary discourse, as if he had elaborately studied them.  
4. He was able out of his full Treasury and Storehouse of Learning, to bring forth both new and old. I never knew any learned subject spoken of in his company, wherein he was not able most dextrously to deliver his opinion. He was a man of a copious discourse, but withal so solid and judicious, as did ever delight his Auditor's, never weary them. As Livy said of Cato, Natum ad id diceres, quodcunque ageret, we may say of him, Doctum in hoc uno crederes, quodcunque diceret.  
5. He was a Worker as well as a Speaker; he was not a barren figtree, that had leaves without fruit; nor a tinkling Cymbal, noise without love; he taught by his life as well as by his learning. Verbi● tantum Philosophari, non est doctoris sed histrionis, as he said: and Dicta factis deficientibus erubescunt, saith Tertullian. And indeed, he was a man of fixed and resolved honesty, and wondered in his sickness, what men did learn Christianity for, if it were not in every condition to practise it, and ado●n the profession of it.  
6. He was a patiented man: patiented in his School; patiented in his sufferings, willingly be●●ing the reproach of Christ, and not fearing the wrath of any man, in comparison of the reverence he did bear to his own conscience: patiented in sickness, composing himself with as unshaken confidence to die, as in time of health he would have gone about any other business.  
7. He was a faithful man, most exactly answerable to the trust of his place: opprimi potius onere officii maluit, quam illud deponere, as once Tully spoke. It was hardly possible for any friend by any importunity to draw him from a most punctual observation of timely attendance upon the duties of his place. And so tenderly fearful was he of miscarriage herein, and so sensible of any the least defect, that in a former Sickness he desired, if he should then have died, to have been buried at the School-door, in regard he had in his ministration there come short of the duties which he owed unto the School. The fullest ears of corn bow their heads; and the most worthy men are most humble, and apprehensive of their own failings.  
8. He was a constant man: punctual and immovable from honest principles. Vir rigidae innocentiae, as Livy said of Cato. He was of Polemo's judgement in this point, Debere in esse quandam moribus contumaciam, That men having proved all things should hold fast the best, and be pertinacious in goodness.  
9 He was a Wise man. Prudence is requisite to tame and calm the wild and unswaied humours of young children. It is noted as a special piece of Socrates' Wisdom, that he did by his instruction fix and reduce the wand'ring and vicious inclinations of Alcibiades.  
10. I might go on, and instance in the Authority, Gravity, Meekness, observable in our dear friend, but I only add his great care of the School at his last, that there might be an able Successor chosen. The evening before he died, with great earnestness he commended it to the Company by a Member thereof, who came to visit him, That they should use their uttermost wisdom and care to choose an able, learned, religious and orthodox man into the place; naming one, of whose fitness both he and the Company and School had had before great experience. And so much were they pleased to honour the judgement and integrity of this worthy man, that presently after his death they pitched upon an excellent learned man, whom he had so providently commended to them.  
11. This worthy friend of mine, the Friday and Saturday before his own Fit, was pleased to visit me, lying at that time under a sore Fit of the Stone. It pleased the Lord the MOnday following to bring a Fit upon him, and sending to inquire of his condition, he sent me word ho● it was with him, and that he looked on this Fit as a Messenger of death from God unto him. And though in obedience to God's appointment, he made use of means, yet he still insisted upon it, that his time of dissolution was now come, and accordingly with great composedness and resolvedness of spirit, waited for death, as a man doth for a loving friend, whom he is willing to embrace.  
Ob. Septemb. 1657.   


Reverendus in Cristo pater ac Dominus D. Thomas Dunel mensis Episcopus.  


Obijt Anon 

Aetatis— 95  
Episcopatus— 44  
Salutis— 1659.        

III. Dr THOMAS MORTON, Bishop of Duresme.  
Out of his Life, Written by Dr Barwick, (now) Dean of S. Paul's. D. Thomae Vyner, Rect. de Staunton.  
1. HIs Coat-armour and pedigree show him to be of the same Original and Stock, with that eminent Prelate and wise Statesman John Morton, Lord Chanc: of England, and Archbishop of Cant: (by whose contrivance and management the two Houses of York and Lancaster were united.) But, in his great modesty and humility, he would not revive, nor so much as look upon, a very fair and large descent of his Pedigree, when it was presented to him: though he liberally rewarded the person that presented it.  
2. The place of his birth was the ancient and famous City of York: his Parents were of good note, Mr Richard Morton Mercer, and Mrs Eliz: Leedale (by whom the Valvasours and Langdales acknowledge themselves to be of his kindred:) by whose care he was brought up in p●etie and learning, first at York, and afterward at Hallifax under Mr Maud: of whom he always spoke with great reverence, as a grave man and a good S●oolmaster. He took root in the Nursery of Hallifax till the eighteenth year of his age, before he was trans-planted into the Garden of the University.  
3. An. 1582. he was sent to Cambridge, and there admitted into S. John's Coll. wherein were so many eminent Scholar's at that time, as he was wont to say, It seemed to be a whole University of itself. The Master of the College was Dr Whitaker: his first Tutor was Mr Anthony Higgon, who left him to the care of Mr Hen: Nelson, who lived to see his Pupil pass through all the other Dignities he had in the Church, till he came to be Bishop of Duresm, and a good many years after.  
4. An. 1590., he took his Degree of Master of Arts, having performed all his Exercises with great approbation and applause. Afterward, for above two years, he continued his studies in the College at his Father's charge. And then, Mar: 17. 1592. he was admitted Fellow merely for his worth against eight Competitors for the place. Which he was wont to recount with greater contentment to himself, than his advancement to any Dignity he ever enjoyed in the Church. About the same time he was chosen Logic Lecturer for the University: which place he discharged with as much Art and Diligence, as may appear by his Lectures fairly written, which I find among his papers.  
5. In the same year he was admitted to the facred Order of Deacon, and the next after, of Priesthood. Having received his Commission from God and his Church, he was very ready to assist others in the way of charity; but not too forward to take upon him a particular care of Souls. And accordingly we find him for about five years after this continuing in the College, prosecuting his own private Study, and reading to such young Scholars as were committed to his care and Tuition.  
6. An. 1598. he took his Degree of Bachelor in Divinity. And about the same year, being presented, instituted and inducted to the Rectory of Long Marston, four miles distant from his native City of York, he betook himself wholly to the Cure of Souls there committed to him, which he discharged with great care and diligence: And yet he did not intermit his higher studies for the general good of the Church while he atrended it. To that end he had always some Person to be his Assistant, whom he knew to be pious and learned.  
7: And this assistance was the more necessary, because his great parts and worth would not suffer him to enjoy his privacy in a country-cure. For first he was made choice of by the Earl of Huntingdon, than Lord Precedent of the North, to be his Chaplain, for his dexterity and acuteness in disputing with the Romish Recusants: for it was Queen Elizabeth's express command to him to convince them by Arguments, rather than suppress them by force: and this she expressed (as his Lordshop was wont to say) in the words of the Prophet, Nolo mortem peccatoris.  
8. But the Earl dying presently after, he returned again to his privacy at Marston: where he continued not long, before the Lord Sheffield (who succeeded as Lord Precedent) commanded him to hold a public Conference before his Lordship, and the Council at the Manor house in York with two Romish Recusants, than prisoners in the Castle; which he performed with great satisfaction to the Auditory, among whom were many of the chief Gentry and Clergy of Yorkshire.  
9 An. 1602, began the great plague at York: at which time he carried himself with much Heroical Charity. For, the poorer sort being removed to the Pesthouse, he made it his frequent exercise to visit them with food, both for their bodies and souls. His chief errand was to instruct and comfort them, to pray for them and with them; and to make his coming the more acceptable, he carried usually a sack of provision with him, for those that wanted it. And because he would have no man run any hazard thereby but himself, he seldom suffered any of his servants to come near him, but saddled and unsaddled his own horse, and had a private door made on purpose into his house and chamber.  
10. An. 1603. he attended the Queen's Ambassador into Germany, being desirous to improve himself by seeing foreign Kingdoms, Churches and Universities. His stay in those parts was the shorter because the Ambassadors Commission determined at the death of the Queen. But however he improved his time so well, partly in furnishing his own Library with books at Frankfurt and elsewhere, but chief in his conversation with learned men, and in his foreign Observations, that he always very highly valued that opportunity.  
11. At his return he was solicited ●y Roger Earl of Rutland to be his domestical Chaplain. Which proffer he was the more willing to accept, for the privacy he hoped to enjoy in a place where he was not know, for making use of that Treasure of Books, he had got in his travels: And the rather, because thereby he was brought so much nearer London than before, whither he must have many occasions to go, for the putting forth of such Books, as he had in design to write. For it was not long after that he printed his first part of his Apologia Catholica. About which time, the Archbishop of York, Toby Matthews (that most exquisite preacher) conferred upon him a Prebend in that Metropolitical Church.  
12. An. 1606. He took the Degree of Doctor in Divinity with the great Approbation of both the professors in Divinity, Dr John Overal, that profound Scholar, and Dr Tho: Playfer that acute Disputant and accurate Preacher, who were both of them very competent Judges of men's abilities. And there began that intimate acquaintance he had with the said Dr Overal (afterwards Dean of S. Paul's, Bishop of Lichfield and Coventry, and lastly of Norwich) which continued between them till it was dissolved by death. And about the same time he was sworn Chaplain in Ordinary to K. James, and by him made Dean of Gloucester, and assumed by the Lord Precedent of Wales for one of his Majesty's Council for the Marches. In his first journey to Gloucester he went by Oxford at the Act time: where he was incorporated and admitted to the same Degree he had in Cambridg: where also he was much taken with the exercises of Mr Dan. Featly, than a proceeder, and carried great friendship to him ever after. At which time (among other eminent Persons) he fell into acquaintance with that famous Dr John King, than Dean of Ch. Ch. afterwards Bishop of London, which afterwards grew so intimate, that the Bishop made choice of him to perform the last offices to him both at his death and burial.  
13. An. 1609. he succeeded Dr George Abbot in the Deanery of Winchester. There Bishop Bilson conferred on him the rectory of Alesford; and there (among other learned men whose friendship he much valued) he had intimate acquaintance with Dr Arthur Lake, than Master of St Cross. In the next year, a Parliament being held, he preached the Sermon to the Convocation, upon Matth: 5. 13. Vos estis sal terrae, with general applause, and should have been Prolocutor, but in modesty declined it, and preferred a friend of his. In his abode at London, he took his lodging at Dean Overal's: who gave him the opportunity of a very early acquaintance with the learned Isaac Casaubon, then newly come out of France, andentertained by the Dean. The love thus begun was never intermitted in their lives, nor obliterated by death, as appears by Casaubon's Monument at Westminster Abbey, set up at the charge of Morton. About the same time he had the opportunity of entering into a very good acquaintance with several other eminent foreign Scholars and Divines: as namely, Scultetus, Diodati, Du Moulin, whose worth is very well known by their learned works in print.  
14. While he continued in Winchester, a certain great person passionately told the ●ing, That Dr Morton had spoiled one of the best Deaneries in England. It concerned the Dean to vindicate his good name from that foul and unjust aspersion. And therefore acquainting his Brethren of the Chapter with it, they were very forward to give and he not backward to receive a Testimonia from them under their hands and seals, That h● had been one of the best Deans that ever had been a● Winchester in their times: and some of them were very ancient.  
15. An. 1616. July 7. he was consecrated Bishop of Chaester. While necessaries were preparing for his journey thither, and for the accommodation of his Palace there, he retired himself to Clay-Hall in Essex, upon the earnest invitatior of his Noble friend Sir Christopher Hatton, an● there fell sick of a dangerous Fever, but being happily recovered, presently put himself upo● his journey towards his great work, and was me● on the borders of his Diocese and brought into the City of Chester by such a great number of Knights and other the best Gent: of the Country, beside the Clergy, as may give a lasting testimony, to their honour as well as his, in showing such a religious respect to their Bishop.  
16. When he was settled there, he found all the inconveniences which he fore saw, (and which made him at first loath to undertake that weighty Office) and some also which he could not foresee at so great a distance. For, beside the great number of Romish Recusants, which hath always been observed in this Diocese, he found another sort of Recusants (better known by the name of Nonconformists) who, though they were not so many in number as the other, yet had they so much perverseness and obstinacy in them, as made them equal, or rather superior, in relation to the trouble he had with them. For the reducing of them to their obedience to the Church, he used no less fatherly mildness than strength of Argument: and after he had endeavoured their satisfaction in a public Conference with them about the use of the Surplice, etc. he printed a Relation thereof with some enlargements, entitled, The defence of the three innocent Ceremonies. But in reducing the other party, the Popish Recusants, God blessed him with far better success, to the great content of his Majesty.  
17. An. 1617. at the Kings return out of Scotland through Lancashire, his Majesty was petitioned about some innocent Recreation for servants, and other inferior persons, on the Lord's day and Holy days, whose laborious Callings deprived them of it all other times. The King consulted with the Bishop how he might satisfy their desires without endangering this liberty to be turned into lasciviousness. Whereupon the Bishop presented to the King in writing the next day (Bishop Andrew's attended the King the same time) several limitations or restrictions, which the King so well approved that he said, He would only alter them from oh words of a Bishop to the words of a King: viz. That all known Recusants, and all that are not present at Church at the Service of God shall be barred from the benefit of this liberty: That these Recreations shall not be used before the end of all divine services for that day: That every person should resort to his own parish Church, etc. The Declaration was published May 24. in the 16. of his Reign: and since republished by our late Gracious Sovereign, K. Charles 1. The good Bishop, to maintain his hospitality in that place, where good house-keeping is so much valued and practised, had the rectory of Stopford in Commendam, bestowed on him by the King, where his name and memory is still precious.  
18. An. 1618. Mar. 6. At the mo●ion of that great pattern of Episcopal perfection, Dr Andrew's above mentioned, than Bishop of Eli (who was never known to do the like for any other, and yet did this without his seeking or knowledge, that he might have him his nearer neighbour, as he said, and of the same Province with himself:) He was translated to the ●ee of Coventry and Lichfield, void by the Translation of his old friend Bishop Overal to Norwich. And here his trouble was not so great as at Chester, though his Diocese was longer: because the common sort of people, for the most part, were better principled by the care and vigilance of his Predecessor. But yet he abated nothing of his former pains and industry, both in Writing, Preaching and conferring with those th●t were not wilfully obstinate: besides his ordinary Visiting his Diocese, and Confirming such children as could give an Account of their Faith.  
19 Among the works of Charity performed by this Bishop, while he was of that See, memorable is the Education he bestowed upon one George Canner, (who like another Didymus of Alexandria, or Fisher of Wewminster was born blind:) This youth he brought up first at School, and afterwards sent him to Cambrigde, where he maintained him, and his Uncle to look to him, in S. John's Coll. After he had taken the Degree of Bachelor of Arts, he sent for him into his o●n Family, and there instructed him in the whole Body of Divinity; then admitted him into sacred Orders, placed him in a Cure in St●ff●rdshire. Which Cure the blind man discharged diligently and laudably, being a very good preacher, and able also to perform the whole Office of the Church, as it is prescribed in the Book of Common prayer, only by the strength of his admirable Memory.  
20. Memorable also is that passage of the Boy of Bilson near Woolverhampton, who being wrought upon by some Romish Priests, counterfeited himself to be possessed with a Devil. But the Devil having steeled his heart (as his own phrase was after his confession) he continued Demoniac longer than was intended, and accused a neighbouring woman, of the Romish Communion, for bewitching him, so cunningly prosecuting the charge, as the woman hardly escaped. The Bishop suspecting the Boy did but counterfeit, got leave of the Judges to have the Boy home with him: where, by his wisdom and great pains he discovered the imposture; and afterwards, upon the Boy's Confession and Repentance, bound him out an Apprentice to a Shoemaker in Bristol.  
21. An. 1632. He was translated to the See of Duresm (void by the death of Bishop Howson) a place of greater trust and honour, as well as of greater emolument. For, besides the Spiritual and Ecclesiastical Affairs (as before) he had now the care and management of all the tumporal Affairs within the County Palatine of Duresm, by virtue of the Palatinate, which for many hundreds of years hath been annexed to the Episcopal See: in so much as it passed for a Maxim there: Quicquid potest Rex extra Episcopatum, potest Episcopus intra: And yet in the same he carried himself with so much justice and equity for ten years together before these late Troubles put a disturbance in the exercise of his Government, that no complaint was ever made against him to the Parliament: except only the case of Mr Smart, which yet had no relation to the County Palatine, neither could the charge be made good against him.  
22. Some Rules which he set unto his Government were these. First, for his Fines at the renewing of Leases, he never intermeddled in setting them himself, but referred the business to four Gentlemen of the neighbourhood, to make a moderate composition between him and his Tenants. 2. In wreks, he took such a small sum of the persons that had suffered them, as was not worthy the name of a Composition; and that only to preserve the right of his place. 3. In Deodans, where any man had made himself away; though by law the whole estate was confiscated in detestationem criminis, yet exceeded he not a fourth part of the estate after the most moderate Valuation. And lastly, for Wardships; he used that tenderness, as never any of the Gentry had wrong in their Minority.  
23. How much greater his Fatherly care was, for the Spiritual affairs of the Bishopric, will appear by his pious endeavours in settling competent Augmentations upon the smaller Benefices He had given a good ex●mple long before, whiles he was Bishop of Lichfield, in abating a good part of his Fine, to increase the portion of the Vicar of Pichley in Northamptonshire. And now in a work of so much importance, he applied himself for Counsel to three of the most learned in the Laws, Lo. Keeper Coventry, Mr Noy, Sir Henry Martin, who all concurred, That the Bishop's Authority over Churches appropriate was neither taken away, nor any way infringed, but that he may now appoint a competent Augmentation, etc. See the Author.  
24. Having thus fully informed himself of his just parts in a matter of so high Concernment for the advancement of Christian Religion, and the good of Souls, he resolved to put it in practice, as f●r as God should enable him, and trust God with the event. He began at home with the Parish of B●shop-Auk●and. Here he augmented the stipend of the Mother-Church from sixteen pounds per an: to fourscore, and the Chapels belonging to it from about six pounds per an. to thirty; intending to extend the like Episcopal care in some proportion over all the rest of his Diocese: But so pious heroical a work became abortive by the Scotch Invasion, etc.  
25. We are come now to the precipice of this Reverend Bishop's outward splendour: though neither his Glory nor Happiness incurred the least diminution by his future sufferings. For he was never more happy in his own thoughts, nor more glorious in the eyes of all good men, then in being exercised in those troubles, whereof the continual series of public affairs afforded him a perpetual opportunity from this time till his death.  
26. In one of the tumults after the beginning of the long Parliament, this Reverend Bishop was in extreme hazard of his life by the multitude that were beckoned thither by the contrivers of our late miseries: whereof some cried, Pull him out of his Coach: Others, Nay, he is a good man: Others, But for all that he is a Bishop. And he hath often said, He believed he should not have escaped alive, if a leading man among that rabble had not cried out, Let him go and hang himself. Upon this and the like violations of the liberty and freedom essential to all the Members of Parliament, when the Twelve Bishops (whereof this was one) remonstrated the just fears they were in, and Protested their dissent from all Laws which should be enacted, till they might attend service of the House with freedom and saftey They were all charged with high Treason by the House of Commons, and committed to Prison, etc.  
27. Our Bishop being (after four months) discharged from this his first imprisonment, returned to his lodgings in Duresm House, and there attended his devotions and study, till suchtime as his Adversaries thought fit to give him another occasion to exercise his patience under a second Captivity, upon occasion of baptising a Child of the Earl of Rutland's according to the Order of the Church. And in custody he remained six months before he could obtain his enlargement. After this he remained in Duresm house till he was thrown out thence by the soldiers, that came to Garrison it, a little before that horrid fact was committed upon the person of our late Gracious King: and after that, being importuned by his honourable friends the Earl and Countess Rutland, he became a part of their care and family at Exe●er-house for some short time. But being loath to live at the charge of others, while he was able to subsist of himself, and thinking the air of the Country might better suit with his declining years, he betook himself to sojourn first with Captain Saunders in Hartfordshire, and after with Mr Tho. Rotheram in Bedfordshire, till by the great civility and earnest importunity of that Noble young Baronet, Sir Henry Yeluerton, he went with him to his house at Easton-Manduit in Northamptonshire, where he found all the tender respect and care from the whole family, which a Father could expect from his children, till after some four months he rendered up his happy soul into the hands of his Heavenly Father.  
28. When the House of Commons had voted for the dissolving of Bishoprics, and selling the lands that belonged to them, some prevailed for another Vote of Yearly Allowance to present Bishops during their lives. Our Bishop had 8001 per an. voted to him: but, while he was able to subsist without it, never troubled himself to look after it. And at last, pressed by necessities, having procured a Copy of the Vote, found it to contain no more than only that such a sum should be paid, but no mention either by whom or whence. And by that time he could procure and explanation of the Order to make the Pension payable out of the Revenues of his own Bishopric, all the Lands and Revenues of it were sold or divided among themselves. Only, by the importunity of his friends he obtained an Order to have 1000ls out of their Treasury at Goldsmith's Hall, with which he paid his debts and purchased to himself an Annuity of 200l per an. during his life, upon which he subsisted ever since.  
29. No man can expect any considerable Legacies in the Will of a person deceased, who made his own hands his Executors, while he lived: like his great kinsman Archbishop Morton, who chose rather to enrich his kindred and servants in his life time, then at his death: or rather, like Archbishop Warham, successor to Morton, who lying on his death bed, called for his Steward to let him know what money he had, and understanding from him, it was but thirty pound, thanked God for it, and said, He never desired to die richer. Our Bishop had so much left him at his death, that he gave 40ls to one of his servants who then attended him (having provided for the other formerly) and 10 to the poor of the Parish, and his Chalice with a Patin double guilt to the Noble Baronet for the use of his Chapel. The rest (deducing some small remembrances) he ordered for his burial, whi●h was also sufficient for a Monument, though far below his worth, yet suitable to his great Modesty.  
30. I cannot omit the chief Legacy of his Will for the common good of souls in the Church of England, particularly in his own Diocese (See it in the Funeral Sermon) where he concludes thus My earnest exhortation to them is, that they would still continue their former Affections (notwithstanding all temptations to the contrary) both to the Doctrine, Discipline, Government, and Form of Worship in this poor afflicted Church: Which, if I did not believe to be the securest way for the salvation of souls, I had not ventured my own upon the same bottom.  
31. His high esteem of the sacred Liturgy of the Church of England attended him (as I may say) to his Grave. For he gave express command to his Chaplain, not to omit, nor so much as transpose (as he had observed too frequently to be done by others) the reading of the Lesson (1 Cor: 15.) which the Church hath prescribed to be read at the Grave: and which being read there, while such a spectacle of mortality is before their eyes, could not (said he) but have a greater influence upon their souls, than any Funeral Sermon he had ever heard preached. Great fervour and devotion he shown in the Church-prayers: whereunto he seldom answered with a single Amen; and at which duty he never kneeled upon a Cushion (I think) in all his life, nor ever prayed but upon his knees, till he was confined to his death bed: and even would neverly with his Cap on his head, if he either prayed himself, or any other prayed by him, while he had strength to pull it off with his own hands. Great consolation he took in the Church-preparations for his long home: viz. in the profession of his faith and Charity and Repentance, in receiving the benefit of Absolution, and the Viaticum of the Holy Eucharist.  
32. He lived a great number of years, and very few ever husbanded their time better; for he was never idle with his good will. He was often up at his devotion and study before four a clock, even after he had lived above fourscore years, and yet very seldom went to bed till after ten; and then had always a servant to read some book to him, till such time as sleep did surprise him: and so had he always when he traveled in his Coach, that his journey might not be too great a hindrance to his study. He used to lie on a straw bed till he was above fourscore.  
33. He led his life in a holy and chaste celibate. The issue of his brain was numerous, (beside M. SS.) above twenty several Volumes in print: some of which are these that follow: Apologia Cath. p. 1. pars 2. The Catholic Appeal. Causa Regia. The Grand Imposture, and proofs. Sermons. Confessions out of foreign Divines for Bishops. God's Providence: the last book he lived to publish, a fit Meditation for his declining years in those sad Times.  
34. To add somewhat of his Character. 1. His patience. In the greatest trial of his temper that ever he had, the news of the Vote, that the Revenues of the Church were to be sold, he only said: The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; Blessed be the name of the Lord: Which he repeated three times over before the company he was in, and presently retired himself to his prayers: 2. His Hospitality. He entertained the King and his Court, and (at least the Officers of) his Army, all at one time in the first expedition toward Scotland, which cost him (in that place of great cheapness) above 1500l in one day. There seldom came any Scholar to him, whether Foreign or English, whom he did not liberally entertain, and dismiss with a considerable sum of money. 3. His Beneficence. He built a Free School at Bishop Aukland, and endowed it with 24l per au: which is more by so much than ever he purchased to himself, for that was just nothing. He gave many excellent books to the College where he had his Education, to the value of 4 or 500l, with an intention at last to bestow 100ls per an. during his life (had not the times disabled him) to buy books of special worth and not for superfluity. 4. His Almsgiving. While he was suffered to enjoy his estate, he had his Beadsmen in Livery at a constant Table, besides what he gave away at his Gate, and upon other occasions. Nay, so constant was he in this duty, even then when he had hardly so much left as to afford bread for his own mouth, that he had always a certain number of poor impotent persons in a constant pension, that came weekly to him for their allowance, when he was not able himself to go among them to give it: and this will be abundantly testified by the poor in all places, where of late he hath lived. 5. His Devotion. He would often forgo, ot at least much moderate, his one meal a day; often deny himself some part of that pittance of time allowed for sleep, to rise out of his bed, and to spend in prayer, as the Attendants in his Chamber witness. [See the rest in the reverend Author of his Life and of his Funeral Sermon.]  
Ex Epitaphio.  
Nullo non dignus Elogio, Eo vero dignior, quod nullo se dignum aestimaverit.  
Ob. Crastino S. Mat.  
Sepult. Festo S. Mich.  

Anno 

Salut. 1659.  
Aetat. 95.  
Episc. 44.      


The Effigies of Mr George Herbert: Author of those Sacred Poems called The Temple.    

IV. M. GEORGE HEREBRT. (Vide Vol. 1.)  
Out of his Life before his REMAINS. D. Richardo Cooper, Rect. de Weston.  
1. MR George Herbert was extracted out of a Generous, Noble and Ancient Family, His Father was Richard Herbert of Blachehall in Montgomery, Esq; descended from the great Sir Richard Herbert in Edward the IV's time; and so his Relation to the Noble Family of that Name, well known. His Mother was daughter of Sir Richard Newport of Arcoll: who doubtless was a pious daughter, she was so good and godly a Mother. She had ten children, Job's number and Job's distinction, seven sons. For whose Education she went and dwelled in the University, to recompense the loss of their Father, in giving them two Mothers. And this great care of hers, this good Son of hers studied to improve and requite, as is seen in those many Latin and Greek Verses, the Obsequious Parentalia he made and printed, in her Memory: Which, though they be good, very good, yet (to speak freely of this man I so much honour) they be dull or dead in comparison of his Temp●e Poems. And no marvel: To write those, he made his Ink with water of Helicon, but these Inspirations Prophetical were distilled from above: In those are weak Notions of Nature; in these raptures of Grace: In those he writ flesh and blood, a frail earthly woman, though a Mother, but in these he praised his Heavenly Father.  
2. He did thrive so well in Cambridge in Trinity Coll: that he was first chosen Fellow there, and afterwards Orator of the University. The Memorials of him left in the Orator's book, show how he discharged the place: and himself intimates, Church p. 39 That whereas his Birth and Spirit prompted him to Martial Achievements, The way that takes the Town, and not to sit simpering over a Book; God did often melt his spirit, and entice him with Academic honour, to be content to wear and wrap up himself in a Gown, so long, till he durst not put it off, nor retire to any other Calling. However, probably he might, I have heard, (as other Orators) have had a Secretary of State's place, being one of the most prudent and accomplished men of his time. I have heard sober men censure him as a man that did not manage his brave parts to his best advantage and preferment, but lost himself in an humble way: That was the phrase, I well remember it.  
3. This good man like a good genuine son of Levi (I had like to have said Melchizedek) balked all secular ways, saw neither Father nor Mother, Child nor Brother, birth nor friends (save in Christ jesus) chose the Lord for his Portion, and his service for employment. And he knew full well what he did, when he received holy Orders, as appears by every page of his Country Parson, and by the Poems called Priesthood, and Aaron, and by his unparallelled Vigilancy, which he used ever in his Parish: which made him a Peer to the Primitive Saints, and more than a Pattern to his own age.  
4. Besides his Parsonage of Bemmerton in Wiltshire, he had also a Prebend in the Church of Lincoln. Which (I think) because he lived far from, and so could not attend the duty of that place, he would fain have resigned to Mr Ferrer, and often earnestly sued to him to discharge him of it. But Mr Ferrer wholly refused, and diverted or directed his charity (as I take it) to the reedefying of the ruin'd Church of Leighton, where the Corpse of the Prebend lay. So that the Church of England owes to him (besides what good may come by his book of the Country Parson towards the repair of us Churchmen in point of Morals) the Reparation of a Church material, and erection of that costly piece of Mosaic or Solomonic work, The Temple: which flourishes and stands inviolate, when our other Magnificences are desolate and despised.  
5. He was of a singular sincerity in embracing, and transcendent dexterity in defending the Protestant Religion established in the Church of England. He that reads Mr Herbert's Poems attendingly, shall find not only the excellencies of Scripture-Divinity, and choice Passages of the Fathers bound up in Meeter, but the Doctrine of Rome also finely and strongly confuted: as in the Poems, To Saints and Angels, p. 69. The British Church, 102. Church militant, etc.  
6. As for our Brethren that erred on the right hand, his chief aim was, to win those that disliked our Liturgy, Catechism, &c, by the constant, reverend, and holy use of them. Which, surely, had we all imitated, having first imprinted the virtue of these prayers in our own hearts, and then studied with passionate and affectionate celebration, for voice, gesture, etc. as in God's presence to imprint them in the minds of the people, our prayers had been generally as well beloved as they were scorned.  
7. There is one thing yet, which I admire above all the rest. The right managing of the fraternal Duty of Reproof is (methinks) one of the most difficult offices of Christian Prudence. He had not only got the courage to do this, but the art of doing this aright. There was not a man in his way, be he of what rank he would, that spoke awry in order to God, but he wiped his mouth with a modest, grave and Christian reproof. His singular dexterity in sweetening this art, thou mayst see in the gua●b and phrase of his writings. Like a wise Masterbuilder, he has fet about a form of speech, transferred it in a figure, as if he was always learning from another man's mouth or pen, and not racking any. And whereas we all of us deserved the sharpness of reproof, he saith, He does this, and He does that: whereas, poor men, we did no such thing. This dart of his, thus dipped, pierces the Soul.  
8. His Art of Divine Poetry, and other polite learning, so commen●ed him to Persons most eminent in their time, that Dr Dorne inscribed to him a paper of Latin Verses in print; and the Lord Bacon having translated some Psalms into English Meeter, sent them with a Dedication prefixed, To his very good Friend, Mr George Herbert: thinking, he had kept a true decorum in choosing one so fit for the Argument, in respect of Divinity and Poetry (the one as the matter, the other as the stile) that a better choice he could not make.  
9 I shall omit several excellencies of this Person: His conscientious expense of Time; which he ever measured by the Pulse, that native watch God has set in every of us: his eminent Temperance and Frugality (the two best Purveyors for his Liberality and Beneficence:) his private fastings, his mortification of the body; his extemporary Exercises thereof, at the sight or visit of a Charnel-house, (where every bone, before the day, rises up in judgement against fleshly lust and pride:) at the stroke of a passing-bell, when ancient Charity used (said he) to run to Church and assist the dying Christian with prayers and tears (for sure that was the ground of that custom:) and at all occasions he could lay hold of possibly; which he sought with the diligence that others shun and shift them; besides his careful, not scrupulous Observation of appointed Fasts, Lents and Embers. The neglect and defect of this last (he said) had such influx on the Children which the Fathers of the Church did beget at such time, as malignant stars are said to have over natural productions.  
10. With Fasting he imped his prayers both private and public. His private must be left to God, who saw them in secret: his public were the morning and evening Sacrifice of the Church Liturgy. Which he used with conscientious Devotion, not of Custom, but serious judgement, knowing, 1. That the Sophism used to make people hate them, was a solid reason to make men of understanding love them: namely, Because taken out of the Masse-book: taken out, but as gold from dross, the precious from the vile, The wise Reformers knew Rome would cry, Schism, Schism! and therefore they kept all they could lawfully keep, being loath to give offence (as our blessed Saviour, being loath to offend the Jews at the great Reformation, kept divers old Elements, and made them new Sacrament and Services, as their frequent Washings he turned into one baptism, some service of the Passover into the Lord's Supper:) 2. That the homeliness and ccursenesse, which also was objected, was a a great commendation. The poor Lambs of the flock are forty for one grounded Christian; proportionable must be the care of the Church to provide milk: i. e. plain and easy nourishment for them: and so had our Church done, hoping that stronger Christians, as they abounded in gifts, so they had such a store of the grace of charity, as for their weak brethren's sakes to be content therewith.  
11. He thought also, that a set Liturgy was of great use in respect of those without, whether erring Christians, or unbelieving men: that when we had used our best Arguments against their errors or unbelief, we might show them a Form, wherein we did, and desired they would, serve Almighty God with us: that we might be able to say, This is our Church, Here would we land you: Thus we believe, See the Creed; Thus we pray, baptise, Catechise, Celebrate the Eucharist, Marry, Bury, Entreat the Sick, etc. These, beside Unity, and other accessary benefits, he thought ground sufficient to bear him out in his practice; wherein he ended his life, calling for the Church-prayers, a while before his death, saying, None to them, None to them! at once both commending them, and his Soul to God in them, immediately before his dissolution; as some Martyrs did, Mr Hulliar by name, Vicar of Babram, burnt to death in Cambridge. Who having the Common-prayer book in his hand, instead of a Censer, and using the prayers as Incense, offered up himself as a whole  Sacrifice to God. With whom the very Book itself suffered Martyrdom; when fallen out of his consumed hands, it was, by the Executioners, thrown into the fire, and burnt as an heretical book.  
12. He was, moreover, so great a lover of Church-music, that he usually called it, Heaven upon earth, and attended it a few days before his death. But above all, his chief delight was in the Holy Scripture: One leaf whereof, he professed, he would not part with, though he might have the whole world in exchange. This high esteem of the Word of Life, as it wrought in himself a wondrous expression of high Reverence, when ever he either read it himself, or heard others read it; so it made him equally wonder, that those who pretended such extraordinary love to Christ Jesus, as many did, could possibly give such leave and liberty to themselves, as to hear that Word, that shall judge us at the last day, without any the least expression of that holy fear and trembling, which they ought to charge upon their Souls in private, and in public to imprint upon others.  
13. I have not so much as with one dash of a pencil offered to describe that person of his, which afforded so unusual a Contesseration of Elegancies, and Set of rarities to the beholder: nor said I any thing of his personal Relation, as a Husband to a loving and virtuous Lady, as a Kinsman, Master, etc. Yet will I not silence his spiritual love and cate of Servants, teaching Masters this duty; To allow their servants daily time wherein to pray privately, and to enjoin them to do it; holding this for true generally: That public prayer alone to such persons, is no prayer at all.  
14. I have given thee only these lineaments of his mind, and thou mayest fully serve thyself of his book, The Country-Parson, in what virtue of his thy soul longeth after. His practice it was, and his Character it is: His, as Author; and his, as Object. Yet, lo, the Humility of this gracious man! He had small esteem of this book, and but very little of his Poems. Though God had magnifyed him with extraordinary Gifts, yet said he, God hath broken into my study, and taken off my Chariot wheels: I have nothing worthy of God: And even this lowliness in his own eyes, doth more advance their worth, and his Virtues.  
[Here, my Reader, give me leave to propose to thy view some lines of that excellent Figure, The Country Parson, written by the Author 1632. printed 1652. which book I read with joy that we have any such, and with grief that we have no more.]  
1. The Country Parson is exceeding exact in his life, being holy, just, prudent, temperate, ●old, grave in all his ways. And because the two highest points of life, wherein a Christian is most seen, are Patience and Mortification: Patience in regard of Afflictions, Mortification in regard of lusts and affections, and the stupifying and deading of all the clamorous powers of the soul, therefore he hath throughly studied these, that he may be an absolute master and commander of himself for all the purposes which God hath ordained him. Yet in these points he labours most in those things which are most apt to scandalise his Parish.  
2. He is full of all knowledge. They say it is an ill Mason that refuseth any stone: and there is no knowledge, but in a skilful hand serves either positively as it is, or else to illustrate some other knowledge. He condescends even to the knowledge of tillage and pastorage, and makes great use of them in teaching; because people, by what they understand, are best led to what they understand not. But the chief and top of his knowledge consists in the book of books, the storehouse and magazene of life and comfort, the holy Scriptures. There he sucks, and lives. There he finds four things: Precepts for life, Doctrines for knowledge, Examples for illustration, and promises for comforts: These he hath digested severally. And for the understanding of these, the means he useth are, a holy life, prayer, etc.  
3. He hath read the Fathers also, and the Schoolmen, and the later Writers, or a good proportion of all: out of all which he hath composed a book, and Body of Divinity, which is the storehouse of his Sermons, and which he preacheth all his life; but diversely clothed, illustrated and enlarged. For, though the world is full of such composures, yet every man's own is fittest, readiest, and most savoury to him. Besides, this being to be done in his younger and preparatory times, it is an honest joy ever after to look upon his well-spent hours. This Body he made by way of expounding the Church-Catechism, to which all Divinity m●y easily be reduced. For it being indifferent in itself to choose any method, that is be●t to be chosen, of which there is likeliest ●o be most use.  
4. When he is to read Divine Services, he composeth himself to all possible Reverence, as being truly touched with the Majesty of God, and that being first affected himself he may affect also his people; knowing, that no Sermon moves them so much to a reverence, which they forget again when they come to pray, as a devout behaviour in the very act of praying. Accordingly, his voice is humble, his words treatable, and slow; yet not so slo● neither, as to let the fervency of the supplicant hang and die between speaking; but with a more liveliness between fear and zeal, pauzing yet pressing, he performs his duty. Besides his example, he having often instructed his people how to carry themselves in Divine Service, exacts of them all possible reverence, by no means enduring either talking, or sleeping, or gazing, or leaning, or half-kneeling, or any undutiful behaviour in them; but causing them, when they sit, or stand, or kneel, to do all in a straight and steady posture, as attending to what is done in the Church; and every one, man and child answering aloud both Amen, and all other answers on the people's parts, using their reason, and applying their powers to the Service of God.  
5. He preacheth constantly: the Pulpit is his joy and his Throne. If he at any time intermit, it is either for want of health, or against some great Festival, that he may the better celebrate it; or for the variety of the hearers, that he may be heard, at his return more attentively. When he intermits, he is ever well supplied by some able man, who treads in his steps, and will not throw down what he hath built; whom also he entreats to press some point, that he himself hath often urged with no great success, that so in the mouth of two or three witnesses the truth may be the more established. When he preacheth, he procures attention with all possible art, both by earnestness of speech (it being natural for men to think, that where is much earnestness, there is something worth hearing) and by a ●●●●gent and busy cast of his eye on his Auditors, with letting them know, that he observes who marks, and who not; and with particularising of his speech, now to the younger sort, then to the elder, now to the poor, and now to the rich. This is for you, and This is for you: for particulars ever touch, and awake, more than generals. He exceeds not an hour in preaching, because all ages have thought that a competency, and he that profits not in that time, will less afterwards; the same affection which made him not profit before, making him then weary; and so he grows from not relishing, to loathing.  
6. On Sundays, having read Divine Service twice fully, and Preached in the morning, and Catechised in the afternoon, he thinks he hath in some measure, according to poor and frail man, discharged the public duties of the Congregation. The rest of the duty he spends either in reconciling neighbours that are at variance, or in visiting the sick, or in exhortaton to some of his flock by themselves, whom his Sermons cannot or do not reach. And every one is more awaked, when we come and say, Thou art the man. At night he thinks it a very fit time, both suitable to the joy of the day, and without hindrance to public duties, either to entertain some of his neighbours, or to be entertained of them: where he takes occasion to discourse of such things as are both profitable and pleasant, and to raise up their minds to apprehend God's blessing to our Church and State, etc.  
(Here I had ended, but since I see the Book is hard in come by, prithee take some more.  
7. The Country Parson considering that Virginity is a higher state than Matrimony, and that the Ministry requires the best and highest things, is rather unmarried, than married. But yet as the temper of his body may be, or as the temper of his Parish may be where he may have occasion to converse with women, and that among suspicious men, and other like circumstances considered, he is rather married than unmarried. Let him communicate the thing often by prayer to to God, and as his grace shall direct him, so let him proceed. If he be unmarried, and keep house, he hath not a woman in his house, but finds oppertunities of having his meat dressed and other services done by men servants at home, and his linen washed abroad. If he be unmarried and sojourn, he never talks with any woman alone, but in the audience of others, and that seldom, and then also in a serious manner, never jestingly ●r sportfully. He is very circumspect in all companies, both of his behaviour, speech and very looks, knowing himself to be both suspected and envied. If he be married, the choice of his wife was made rather by his ear, than by his eye: his judgement, not his affection found out a fit wife for him; whose humble and liberal disposition he preferred before beauty, riches or honour.  
8. He is very exact in the government of his house, making it a copy and model for his Parish. He knows the temper and pulse of every person in his house, and accordingly either meets with their vices, or advanceth their virtues. His wife is either religious, or night and day he is winning her to it. Instead of the qualities of the world, he requires only three of her. 1. a training up of her children and maids in the fear of God, with prayers and catechising, and all religious duties, 2. a curing and healing of all wounds and sores with her own hands: which skill either she brought with her, or he takes care she shall learn it of some religious neighbour, 3. a providing for her family in such sort, as that neither they want a competent sustentation, nor her husband in debt. His children he first makes Christians, and then Commonwealth's men: the one he owes to his heavenly Country, the other to his earthly, having no title to either, except he do good to both. ●●s servants are all religious: and were it not his duty to have them so, it were his profit: for none are so well served, as by religious servants, both because they do best, and because what they do is blessed and prospers.  
9 Owing a debt of Charity to the poor, and of courtesy to his other Parishioners, he so distinguisheth, that he keeps his money for the poor, and his table for those that be above his alms. Not, but that the poor are welcome also to his table: whom he sometimes purposely takes home with him, setting them close by him, and carving for them, both for his own humility and their comfort, who are much cheered with such friendliness. But he chooseth rather to give the poor money, whi●h they can employ to their advantage, and suitably to their needs.  
10. He is full of Charity: it is his predominant element: all his works relish of Charity. When he riseth in the morning, he bethinketh himself what good deeds he can do that day, and presently doth them; counting that day lost, wherein he hath not exercised his charity. He takes care, that there be not a beggar, or idle person in his parish, but that all be in a competent way of getting their living.  he gives any thing, and sees them labour in thanking of him, he exacts of them to let him alone, and say rather, God be glorified: that so the thanks may go the right way, and thither only, where th●y are only due. So doth he also, before giving, make them say their prayers first, or the Creed, and ten Commandments; and as he finds them perfect, rewards them the more. For other givings are lay and secular, but this is to give like a Priest.  
11. He hath a special care of his Church, that all things there be decent, and befitting his name by which it is called. Therefore, 1. he takes order that all things be in good repair. 2. That the Church be swept and kept clean without dust or cobwebs, and at great Festivals strawed and stuck with boughs, and perfumed with incense. 3. That there be fit and proper texts of Scripture every where painted, and that all the painting be grave and reverend, not with light colours or foolish antics. 4. That all the books appointed by Authority be there, and those not torn or fouled, but whole and clean and well bound, etc.  
12. Upon the afternoons in the week days, he takes occasion sometimes to visit in person, now one quarter of his parish, now another. For there he shall find his flock most naturally as they are, wallowing in the midst of their affairs: whereas on Sundays it is easy for them to compose themselves to order, which they put on as their Holyday-cloths, and come to Church in frame, but commonly the next day put off both. When he comes to any house, first he blesseth it, and then as he finds the persons of the house employed, so he forms his discourse. Those that he finds religiously employed, he commends them much and furthers them, by furnishing them with good books. Those that he finds busy in the works of their calling, he commendeth them also. For it is a good and just thing for every one to do their own business. But then he admonisheth them of two things. 1. That they dive not too deep into worldly affairs, plunging themselves over head and ears into carkino and caring; but that they labour so, as neither to labour anxiously, nor distrustfully, nor profanely. 2. He adviseth them so to labour for wealth and maintenance, as that they make not that the end of their labour, but that they may have wherewithal to serve God the better, and to do good deeds. The Parson also questions what order is kept in the house, as about prayers morning and evening on their knees, reading of Scripture, Catechising, etc. Neither disdaineth he to enter into the poorest Cottage, though he even creep into it, and though it smell never so loathsomely. For, both God is there also, and those for whom God died: and so much the rather doth he so, as his access to the poor is more comfortable, then to the rich: and in regard of himself it is more humiliation.  
13. When any of his Cure is sick or afflicted with loss of friend, or estate, or any ways distressed, he fails not to afford his best comforts, and rather goes to them, than sends for the afflicted, though they can, and otherwise aught to come to him. To this end he hath throughly digested all the points of Consolation, as having continual use of them: such as are, from God's general providence extended even to Lilies, from his particular to his Church, from his promises, from the examples of all Saints that ever were, from Christ himself perfecting our Redemption no other way then by sorrow, from the benefit of affliction which softens and works the stubborn heart of man, from the certainty both of deliverance and reward if we faint not, from the comparison of the moment of griefs here, with the weight of joys hereafter.  
14. When a just occasion calleth him out of his Parish (which he diligently and strictly weigheth, his Parish being all his joy and thought) he leaveth not his Ministry behind him, but is himself wherever he is. Therefore those he meeteth on the way he blesseth audibly, and with those he overtakes, or that overtake him, he gins good discourses, such as may edify, interposing sometimes some short and honest refreshments, which may make his other discourses more welcome and less tedious. And when he comes to his Inn, he refuseth not to join in prayer, that he may enlarge the glory of God to the company he is in. The like he doth in the morning, using pleasantly the Outlandish Proverb: Prayers and Provender never hinder journey.  
13. Wherever he is, he keeps God's watch, that is, there is nothing spoken or done in the company where he is, but comes under his test and censure: If it be well spoken or done, he takes an occasion to commend and enlarge it; if ill, he presently lays hold of it, lest the poison steal into some young and unwary spirits, and possess them even before they themselves heed it. But this he doth discreerly, with mollifying and suppling words: This was not so well said, as it might have been forborn; We cannot allow this. Or else, if the thing will admit Interpretation, Your meaning is not thus, but thus, or, So far indeed what you said is true, and well said; but this will not stand.  
16. He is in God's stead to his Parish, and dischargeth God what he can of his promises. Wherefore there is nothing done well, whereof he is not the rewarder. If he chance to find any reading in another's Bible, he provides him one of his own. If he find another giving a poor man a penny, he gives him a tester for it, if the giver be fit to receive it: if he be of a condition above such gifts, he sends him a good book, or eases him in his Tithes, telling him when he hath forgotten it, This I do, because at such and such a time you were charitable.  
17. The Country Parson values Catechising highly. He useth and prefereth the ordinary Church-Catechism, partly for obodience to Authority, partly for Uniformity sake, that the s●me common truths may be every where professed. He requires all to be present at Catechising. 1. For the authority of the work. 2. That Parents and Masters, as they hear the Answers prove, may, when they come home, either commend or reprove, either reward or punish. 3. That those of the elder sort, who are not well grounded, may then, by an honourable way, take occasion to be better instructed. 4. That those who are well gro●n in the knowledge of religion, may examine their grounds, renew their vows, and by occasion of both enlarge their meditations.  
18. Being to administer the Sacraments, he is at a stand with himself, how or what behaviour to assume for so holy things. At Baptism, being himself in white, he requires the presence of all, and baptizeth, not willingly, but on Sundays, or great days. He admits no vain or idle names, but such as are usual and accustomed. He says that prayer with great devotion, where God is thanked for calling us to the knowledge of his grace: willingly and cheerfully crosseth the child, and thinketh the Ceremony not only innocent, but reverend: instructeth the Godfathers and Godmothers, that it is no complimental and light thing to sustain that place: adviseth all to call to mind their Baptism often. At the times of the Holy Communion, he first takes order with the Churchwardens, that the Elements be of the best, not cheap or course, much less ill-tasted or unwholesome. Secondly, he considers and looks into the ignorance or carelessness of his flock, and accordingly applies himself with Catechising and lively Exhortations, not on the Sunday of the Communion only (for then it is too late) but the Sunday or Sondays before the Communion, or on the Eves of all those days.  
18. If there be any of his Parish that hold strange doctrines, he uses all possible diligence to reduce them to the common faith. The first means he useth is prayer, beseeching the Father of lights to open their eyes: the second is a loving and sweet usage of them: the third is the observation, what is the main pillar of their c●use, whereon they rely; as, if he be a Papist, the Church is the hinge he turns on; if a Schismatic scandal. These he hath diligently examined, etc. Vide Auctorem 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.   

V Dr JOSEPH HALL., Bishop of Norwich. (See Vol. 1.)  
Out of his Life, written with his own hand. D. Arthuro Charlett, Rect. de Colinb.  

How fare beyond a Picture is his worth  
Whom Pen, nor Pencil truly can set forth!  
Behold his Reverend FACE his better PART  
●s left ungraved, this was beyond all Art.  
His holy Thoughts in sacred MEDITATIONS  
His ravished SOUL with. heavenly CONTEMPLATIONS  
Can not be drawn. Hear only are his Looks  
The Pictures of the rest are in his BOOKS.   
● Samson  
Imprinted for Philemon Stephens & Christopher Meredith. 1628.  
VERA EFFIGIES REVERENDI DO NI. JOSEPHI HALL N●RWICI EPISCOPI.  

This Picture represents the Form, where dwells  
A Mind, which nothing but that Mind excels.  
There's Wisdom, Learning. Wit; there Grace & Love  
Rule over all the rest: enough to prove,  
Against the froward Conscience of this Time,  
The Reverend Name of BISHOP is no Crime.   
2. My parents had from my Infancy devoted me to this Sacred Calling, whereto, by the blessing of God, I have seasonably attained: for this cause, I was trained up in the public School of the place. After I had spent some years (not altogether indiligently) under the ferule of such Masters as the place afforded, and had near attained to some competent ripeness for the University, my Schoolmaster persuaded my Father that I might have my Education under an excellent Divine, the Preacher of Leicester. About which time, my elder brother having some occasions to journey into Cambridge, was kindly entertained there by Mr Nath: Gilby, Fellow of Emanuel Coll: who, for that he was born in the same Town with me, and had conceived some good opinion of my aptness to learning, enquired diligently concerning me, and hearing of the diversion of my Father's purposes from the University, importunately dissuaded from that new course, professing to pity the loss of so good hopes. My Brother, partly moved with his words, and partly won by his own eyes, to a great love and reverence of an Academical life, returning home, fell upon his knees to my Father, and after report of Mr Gilbies' words, and his own admiration of the place, earnestly besought him that he would be pleased to alter that so prejudicial a resolution; that he would not suffer my hopes to be drowned in a shallo● Country-chanel, but that he would revive his first purposes for Cambridge; adding, in the zeal of his love, that if the chargeableness of that course were the hindrance, he did there humbly beseech him, rather to sell some part of that land which himself should in course of nature inherit, then to abridge me of that happy means to perfect my Education.  
3. And now I lived in the expectation of ●●●bridge, whither ere long I happily came, under Mr Gilbies' tuition, together with my worthy friend Mr Hugh Cholmly; who, as we had been partners of one Lesson from our cradles, so so were we now for many years' partners of one bed. My two first years were necessarily chargeable above the proportion of my Father's power, whose not very large Cistern was to feed many pipes besides mine; His weariness of expense was wrought upon by the counsel of so me unwise friends, who persuaded him to fasten me upon that School as Master, whereof I was lately a Scholar. Now was I fetch● home with an heavy heart, and no● the second time had mine hopes been nipped in the blossom, had not God raised me up an unhoped Benefactor, Mr Edmund Sleigh of Derby (whose pious memory I have cause ever to love and reverence) out of no other relation to me, save that he married my Aunt, pitying my too apparent dejectedness. He voluntarily urged and solicited my Father for my return to the University, and offered freely to contribute the one half of my maintenance there, till I should attain to the degree of Master of Arts: which he no less lovingly performed. The Condition was gladly accepted: thither was I sent back with joy enough, and ere long chosen Scholar of that strict and well ordered College.  
4. By that time I had spent six years there, now the third year of my Batcherlorship should at once make an end of my maintenance, and in respect of standing give me a capacity of farther preferment in that house, were it not that my Country excluded me: for our Statute allowed but one of a shire to be Fellow there, and my Tutor being of the same Town with me, must therefore necessarily hold me out. But the Earl of Huntingdon calling off my Tutor from his Fellowship, than was I with a cheerful unanimity chosen into that Society: which if it had any equals, I dare say had none beyond it, for good order, studious carriage, strict government, austere piety; in which I spent six or seven years more with such contentment, as the rest of my life hath in vain striven to yield. Now was I called to public Disputations often, with no ill success; for neither durst I appear in any of these exercises of Scholarship, till I had from my knees looked up to Heaven for a blessing, and renewed my actual dependence upon that Divine hand. In this while, two years together, was I chosen to the Rhetoric Lecture in the public School, where I was encouraged with a sufficient frequency of auditors; but finding that well applauded work somewhat out of my way, not without a secret blame of myself for so much excursion, I fairly gave up that task in the midst of those poor acclamations to a worthy successor, and betook myself to those serious studies, which might fit me for that High Calling whereunto I was destined. Wherein, after I had bestowed myself for a time, I took the boldness to enter into Sacred Orders; the honour whereof having once attained, I was no niggard of that Talon which my God had entrusted to me, preaching often as occasion was offered, both in Country villages abroad, and at home in the most awful auditory of the University.  
5. And now I did but wait where and how it would please my God to employ me. There was at that time a most famous School erected at Tiverton in Devon, and endowed with a very large pension, whose goodly fabric was answerable to the reported maintenance. To the government of this School was I commended by the Master of our House Dr Chaderton, when being in London I received a Letter from the Lady Drury of Suffolk, tendering the Rectory of her Halsted then newly void, and very earnestly desiring me to accept of it. Sir, (quoth▪ to the Doctor) methinks God pulls me by the sleeve, and tells me it is his will I should rather go to the East than to the West. Nay (answered he) I should rather think that God would have you go Westward, for that he hath contrived your engagement before the tender of this Letter, which therefore coming too late may receive a fair and easy answer. To this I besought him to pardon my dissent, adding, That I well knew that Divinity was the end whereto I was destined by my Parents; which I had so constantly proposed to myself, that I never meant other but to pass through this Western School to it: but I saw that God, who found me ready to go the farther way about, now called me the nearest and directest way to that sacred end. The good man could no further oppose, but only pleaded the distant which would hereupon be justly taken by the Lord Chief Justice Popham (upon whom the care of the School was principally cast by the Founder Mr Blundel) whom I undertook fully to satisfy: which I did with no great difficulty, commending to his Lordship in my room, my old friend and Chamber-fellow, Mr Cholmly, who finding an answerable acceptance disposed himself to the place. So as we two, who came to the University, must now leave it, at once.  
6. Having then fixed my foot in Halsted, I found there a dangerous opposite to the success of my Ministry, a witty and bold Atheist, one Mr Lily, who, by reason of his travels and abilities of discourse and behaviour, had so deeply insinuated himself into my Patron, Sir Robert Drury, that there was small hopes, during his entireness, for me to work any good upon that Noble Patron of mine: who, by the suggestion of this wicked detractor, was set off from me before he knew me. Hereupon, I confess, finding the obdurateness and hopeless condition of that man, I bent my prayers against him, beseeching God daily, that he would be pleased to remove, by some means o● othet, that apparent hindrance of my faithful labours: who gave me an answer accordingly: For this malicious man going hastily to London, to exasperate my Patron against me, was then and there swept away by the Pestilence, and never returned to do any further mischief. Now the coast was clear before me, and I gained every day of the good opinion and favourable respects of that Honourable Gentleman, and my worthy neighbours.  
7. Being now therefore settled in that sweet and civil Country of Suffolk, near St Edmunds-Bury, my first work was to build up my house, which was extremely ruinous; which done, the uncouth solitariness of my life, and the extreme incommodity of that single house-keeping, drew my thoughts after two years to condescend to the necessity of a married estate, which God no less strangely provided for me. For, walking from the Church on Monday in the Whitsun week, with a grave and reverend Minister, Mr Grandidg, I saw a comely and modest Gentlewoman standing at the door of that house, where we were invited to a wedding-dinner, and enquiring of that worthy friend whether he knew her; Yes, clothe he, I know her well, and have bespoken her for your wife. When I farther demanded an account of that Answer, he told me, she was daughter of a Gentleman whom he much respected, Mr George Winniff of Bretenham; that out of an opinion had of the fitness of that Match for me, he had already treated with her Father about it, whom he found very apt to entertain it, advising me not to neglect the opportunity: and not concealing the just praises of modesty, piety, good disposition and other virtues that were lodged in that seemly presence, I listened to the motion as sent from God, and at last upon due prosecution happily prevailed, enjoying the comfortable Society of that meet Help for the space of forty nine years.  
8. I had not passed two years in this estate, when my noble Friend, Sir Edmund Bacon, with whom I had much entireness, came to me, and earnestly solicited me for my company in a Jorny by him projected to the Spa in Ardenna, laying before me the safety, the easiness, the pleasure and the benefit of that small extravagance, if opportunity were taken of that time, when the Earl of Hartford passed in Embassy to the Archduke. I soon yielded, as for the reasons by him urged, so especially for the great desire I had to inform myself ocularly of the state and practice of the Romish Church; the knowledge whereof might be of no small use to me in my holy station. Having therefore taken careful order for the supply of my Charge, with the assent and good allowance of my nearest Friends, I entered into this secret voyage, etc. Returning through Brussels, we came do●n to Antwerp, the Paragon of Cities: where my curiosity to see a solemn Procession on S. John Baptist's day, might have drawn me into danger (through my willing unreverence) had not the hulk of a tall Brabanter, behind whom I stood in the corner of the street, shaded me from notice.  
9 After some year and half, it pleased God inexpectedly to contrive the change of my station. My means were but short at Halsted; yet such, as I oft professed, if my then Patron would have added but one ten pounds by year (which I held to be the value of my detained due) I should never have removed. One morning as I lay in my bed, a strong motion was suddenly glanced into my thoughts of going to London. In Drury lane I was found by a friend in whom I had formerly no great interest, one Mr Gurrey, Tutor to the Earl of Essex; he told me how well my Meditations were accepted at the Prince's Court; and earnestly advised me to step over to Richmond, and preach to his Highness. I strongly pleaded my indisposition of body, and my impreparation for any such work, together with my bashful fears, and utter unfitness for such a presence; my averseness doubled his importunity: in fine, he left me not till he had my engagement to preach the Sunday following at Richmond: he made way for me to that awful Pulpit, and encouraged me by the favour of his Noble Lord, the Earl of Essex. I preached through the favour of my God: That Sermon was not so well given as taken: insomuch as that sweet Prince signified his desire to hear me again the Tuesday following, which done, that labour gave more contentment than the former; so as that gracious Prince, both gave me his hand, and commanded me to his service.  
10. My Patron seeing me (upon my return to London) looked after by some great Persons, began to wish me at home, and told me, That some or other would be snatching me up, I answered, That it was in his power to prevent, would he be pleased to make my maintenance, but so competent as in right it should be, I should never stir from him. In●●ead of condescending, it pleased him to fall into an expostulation of the rate of competences, affirming the variableness thereof, according to our own estimation, and our either raising or moderating the causes of our expenses; I showed him the insufficiency of means, that I was forced to write books to buy books. Shortly, some harsh and unpleasing answer, so disheartened me that I resolved to embrace the first opportunity of remove. Now whiles I was taken up with these anxious thoughts, a messenger (it was Sir Robert Wingfield of Northampton's Son) came to me from the Lord Denny, no● Earl of Norwich, my after-most Honourable Patron, entreating me from his Lordship to speak with him. No sooner came I thither, then after a glad, and Noble welcome, I was entertained with the Noble earnest offer of Waltham. The conditions were like the mover, free and bountiful: I received them as from the munificent hands of my God, and returned full of the cheerful acknowledgements of a gracious Providence over me. Too late now did my former Noble Patron relent, and offer me those terms which had before fastened me for ever. I returned home happy in a new master, and in a new Patron; betwixt whom I divided myself and my labours, with much comfort and no less acceptation.  
11. In this while, my worthy Kinsman, Mr Samuel Burton, Archdeacon of Gloc. knowing in ho● good terms I stood at Court, and pitying the miserable condition of his native Church of Wolverhampton, was very desirous to engage me in so difficult and noble Service, as the Redemption of that captivated Church. Which work having once firmly settled, in a just pity of the mean provision, if not the destitution of so many thousand souls, and a desire and care to have them comfortably provided for in the future, I resigned up my Prebend there to a worthy preacher, Mr Lee, who should constantly reside, and painfully instruct that great and long neglected people: which he hath performed with great mutual contentment and happy success.  
12. Now during the 22 years which I spent at Waltham, thrice was I commanded and employed abroad by his Majesty in public service. First in the attendance of the Lord Viscount Doncaster, who was sent upon a Noble Embassy, with a gallant retinue into France. In this my absence it pleased his Majesty graciously to confer upon me the deanery of Worcester, which being promised me before my departure, was deeply hazarded whiles I was out of sight, by the importunity of some great ones. Dr Field, the learned and worthy Doan of Gloucester, was, by his potent Friends, put into such assurances of it, that I heard where he took care for the furnishing that ample house: But, God fetched it about for me, in that absence and nescience of mine, and that reverend and better deserving Divine was well satisfied with greater hopes, and soon after exchanging this mortal estate for an immortal and glorious.  
13. Before I could go down, through my continual weakness, to take possession of that Dignity, his Majesty pleased to design me to his attendance into Scotland; where the great love and respect that I found, both from the Ministers and people, wrought me no small envy from some of our own. Suggestions were made to his Majesty of my plausible demeanour and doctrine to that already prejudicated people: for which his Majesty, after a gracious acknowledgement of my good service there done, called me upon his return to a  and mild account; not more freely professing what informations had been given against me, than his own full satisfaction with my sincere and just answer▪ as whose excellent wisdom well saw, that such winning carriage of mine could be no hindrance to his great designs. At the same time his Majesty having secret notice, that a Letter was coming to me from Mr W. Struther, a Reverend and Learned Divine of Edinburgh concerning the five points then proposed and urged to the Church of Scotland, was pleased to impose upon me an earnest charge to give him a full Answer to those modest Doubts, and at large to declare my Judgement concerning those required Observations. Which I speedily performed with so great approbation of his Majesty, that it pleased him to command a transcript thereof, as I was informed, publicly read in their most famous University. The effe●● whereof, his Majesty vouchsafed to signify afterwards unto some of my best friends, with allowance beyond my hopes.  
14. It was not long after, that his Majesty finding the exigence of the Netherlandish Churches to require it, both advised them to a Synodical Decision, and by his incomparable wisdom promoted the work. My unworthiness was named for one of the Assistants of that Honourable, Grave and Reverend Meeting; where I failed not of my best service of that woeful distracted Church. By that time I had stayed two months there, the unquietness of the nights, in those Garrison Towns, working upon the tender disposition of my body, brought me to such weakness, through want of rest, that it began to disable me from attending the Synod. Yet it pleased God, the very night before I was to preach the Latin Sermon to the Synod, to bestow upon me such a comfortable refreshing of sufficient sleep, as whereby my spirits were revived, and I was enabled with much vivacity to perform that Service. But when, notwithstanding all means, my weakness increased, it pleased his gracious Majesty to call me off, etc.  
15. After not many years settling at home, it grieved my Soul, to see our own Church sicken of the same disease, which we had endeavoured to cure in our Neighbours. Sides were taken, and Pulpits every where rang of these opinions. Now, as one that desired to do all good offices to our dear and common Mother, I set my thoughts on work, how so dangerous a quarrel might be happily composed, and wrote a little projest of Pacification, gathering out of Bishop Overal on the one side, and out of our English Divines at Dort on the other, such common propositions concerning these five busy Articles, as wherein both of them are fully agreed. These reconciliatory papers were presented to his Majesty, together with an humble motion of a peacesible silence to be enjoined to both parts, in those other collateral & needless Disputations. These fell under the eyes of some grave Divines of both parts, who proffered their hands to a ready subscription: so as much peace promised to result out of that weak and poor enterprise, had not the confused noise of the misconstructions of those, who never saw the work (crying it down for the very name sake) meeting with the royal edict of a general Inhition, buried it in a secure silence. I was scorched a little with this flame, which I desired to quench; yet this could not stay my hand from thru●●ing itself into a hotter fire.  
16. Some insolent Romanists pressed nothing so much, as a Catalogue of the professions of our Religion; to be deduced from the Primitive times, and with the peremptory challenge of the impossibility of this pedigree dazzled the eyes of the simple. Whiles some of our learned men, undertaking to satisfy so needless and unjust a demand, gave, as I conceive, great advantage to the Adversary; in a just indignation, to see us thus wronged by mistareing the Question betwixt us, as if we, yielding ourselves of another Church, originally and fundamentally different, should make good our own E●ection upon the Ruins, yea and Nullity of others; and well considering the infinite and great inconveniences, that must needs follow upon this defence; I adventured to set my pen on work, (desiring to rectify the opinions of those men, whom an ignorant zeal had transported, to the prejudice of our holy cause,) laying forth the damnable corruptions of the ●oman church, yet making our Game at the outward visibility thereof, and by this means putting them to the probation of those newly obtruded corruptions, which are truly guilty of the breach betwixt us. The drift whereof being not well conceived by some spirits, that were not so wise as fervent, I was suddenly exposed to the rash censures of many well affected and zealous Protestants; as if a Remission to my wont zeal to the truth, attributed too much to the Roman Church, and strengthened the Adversaries hands, and weakened our own. This envy I was fain to take off by my speedy Apologetical Advertisement, and after that by my Reconcilor, se●●●ded with the unanimous Letters of such Reverend, Learned, sound Divines, both Bishops and Doctors, as whose undoubtable Authority was able to bear down calumny itself. Which done I did, by a seasonable Moderation, provide for the peace of the Church, in silencing both my Defendants and Challengers, in this unkind and ill-raised quarrel.  
17. Immediately before the publishing of this Tractate (which did not a little aggravate the envy and suspicion) I was by his Majesty raised to be Bishop of Exeter, having formerly with humble deprecation, refused the See of Gloucester earnestly proffered to me. I entered upon that place, not without much prejudice and suspicion on some hands. For some, that sat at the Stern of the Church, had me in great jealousy for too much favour of Puritanisus. I soon had intelligence, who were set over me for Spials: my ways were curiously observed and scanned. However I took the resolution to follow those courses, which might most conduce to the peace and happiness of my ne● and weighty charge. Finding therefore some factious spirits very busy in that Diocese, I used all fair and gentle means to win them to good order; and therein so happily prevailed, that (saving two of that numerous Clergy, who continuing in their refractoriness fled away from censure) they were all perfectly reclaimed: so as I had not one Minister professedly opposite to the anciently received Orders (for I was never guilty of urging any ne● impositions of the Church in that large Diocese.  
18. In the last year of presiding the●e, after the Synodical Oath was set on foot (which yet I did never tender to any one Minister of my Diocese) by the in●itation of some bu●●e interlopers of the neighbour County, some of them began to enter into an unkind contestation with me, about the election of Clerks for the Convocation; whom they secretly, without ever acquainting me with their desire or purpose (as driving to that end ●hich we see now accomplished) would needs nominate and set up in competition to those, whom I had (after the usual form) recommended to them. That they had a right to free voices in that choice, I deny not: only I had reason to take it unkindly, that they would work underhand without me and against me. It came to the poll: those of my nomination carried it: the Parliament begun: after some hard tugging there; returning ho●e upon a recess, I was met by the way and cheerfully welcomed by some hundreds.  
19 In no worse terms, I left that my once dear Diocese: when returning to Westminster, I was soon called by his Majesty (who was then in the North) to a remove to Norwich. But how I took the Tower in my way, and how I have been dealt with since my repair hither, I could be lavish in the sad report, ever desiring my good God to enlarge my heart in thankfulness to him, for the sensible experience I have had of his Fatherly Hand over me, in the deepest of all my Afflctions, and to strengthen me, for whatsoever other trials he shall be pleased to call me unto: That being found faithful unto the death, I may obtain that Crown of life, which he hath ordained for all those that overcome.  
See Bishop Hall's Hard Measure.   

VI Sir THOMAS MORE,  
Out of his Life, Written by J. H. D. Timotheo Norwood e● Int. Temp.  
UERA EFFIGIES THOMAE MORI QVONDAM TOTIUS ANGLIAE CANCELLARII DIGNISSIMI ETc.  
2. The Archbishop for his advance in learning, sent him to Cant: Coll. (now Christ-Church) in Oxford. Thence he removed to New Inn, an Inn of Chancery, to study the Law: then to Lincoln's Inn, where he was made Barrister. And then he for some time read upon S. Augustine's de Civ. Dei, in S. Laurence Church, where his Lectures were frequented by Grocin and other learned men: then, for three years was he eader in Furnivals' Inn: after which, for about four years, he gave himself to study and devotion in the .  
3. He was (first) married to Mr Coles daughter of New-hall in Essex, and lived with her in Bucklersbury in London, where he had by her one Son and three Daughters, whom he brought up in virtue and learning, often exhorting them to take that for their meat, and play but for their sauce.  
4. In the later end of K. Henry 7. he fell into the King's displeasure, for opposing the imposition proposed in Parliament toward the matching of the Lady Margaret into Scotland, Which he argued against strongly, that one of the Privy Chamber told the King, A beardless Boy had frustrated all his expectations. To avoid danger he determined to have gone over Sea, but the King's death happening soon after acquitted him of his fear.  
4. No● is he made under-Sheriff of London, by which office, and his learning together, he gained (as himself said) without grudge of conscience 400l per an. for he was of Counsel in most causes, choosing ever the justest side, and for the most part victorious. Twice was he employed abroad by the King's con●●nt in some great Causes of the Merchants. Being called by Cardinal Woo●sie to the King's service, he excused himself at first, but at last (his fame and merit increasing) the King would take no denial. Thus is he made Master of the requests: within a month Knighted, and one of the Privy Council; continuing in his Majesty's favour and trusty service twenty years and above. In good part of which time, the King was so pleased with his converse, and taken with the variety of his learned and pleasant discourse, that Sir Thomas scarce ●●●ained time (till he abated of his former mirth) once in a month to go home to his wife and children. The King, upon the death of Weston, without ask, freely advanced him to be Treasurer of the Exchequer, and in the 14 year of his Majesty's reign was he chosen Speaker of the House of Commons.  
5. At this Parliament he crossed the Cardinal and incurred his displeasure, so that in revenge he counselled the King to send Sir Thomas Ambassador into Spain, commending his wisdom, learning and fitness for that employment. But, Sir Thomas having declared to his Majesty how unfit a journey it was for him to undertake, the nature of the Country and his complexion so disagreeing, that if he were sent thither, he should be sent to his grave: nevertheless being ready with the peril of his life to fulfil his Majesty's pleasure; the King graciously said. It is not our meaning Mr More to do you hurt, but to do you good we would be glad: we therefore will think of some other, and employ your service otherwise. And such entire favour did the King bear him, that upon the death of Wingfield he preferred him to be Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster.  
6. K. Henry took so great pleasure in Sir Thomas' company, that he would suddenly come to his house at Clelsey to be merry with him; and once, after dinner walking in the Garden, about an hour embraced his neck. After, when his son Roper rejoiced at it: I have no cause to be proud of it (quoth Sir Thomas) for if my head would win him a Castle in France, it would not fail to go off.  
7. Sir Thomas More; though in great honour and favour with his Prince, was not therefore puffed up with pride, disdain or arrogancy, but was of such a mild behaviour and excellent temper, that his Son in Law witnesseth; For sixteen years' time and more that he dwelled in his house, and was conversant with him, he could never perceive him so much as once in a passion. If he child any for a fault, it was with exceeding love and compassion: if he fortuned to argue with any learned man (as he was visited by many) when he perceived his adversary to be in a strait, he would by some witty invention break off and fall into some other matter.  
8. When Sir Thomas was employed by the King in Flanders, an arrogant fellow had set up a Thesis, that he would answer any question could be propounded to him in what Art soever. Sir Thomas made this question to be put up for him to answer, An Averia capta in Withernamia sint irreplegebilia, adding, that there was one of the English ●mbassadors retinue, that would dispute with him thereof. This Thraso, not so much as understanding those terms of our Common Law, became ridiculous to all the town for his bragging.  
9 As he walked by the Thames side near Chelsey, in discourse, he said: Now, would to our Lord, upon condition that three things were well established in Christendom, I were put into a sack, and here presently cast into the Thames. Being asked, what those three things were, he answered: 1. That where most part of Chriistian Princes be now at mortal war, they were at an universal peace. 2. That where the Church of Christ is at this time sore afflicted with many errors and heresies, it were settled in a perfect uniformity of Religion. 3. That whereas the King's marriage is now brought in question, it were to the glory of God and quietness of all parties well concluded.  
10. When he observed any of his to spend much time in dressing themselves, to be fine in their Apparel, he would tell them: That if God gave them not hell, he should do them much wrong; for they took more pains to please the world and the Devil, than many even virtuous men did to cleanse their souls and please God.  
11. To his wife and children, when at any time they were troubled, he would say: We may not look at our pleasure to go to heaven in featherbeds that is not the way. For our Lord himself went thither through pain, and many tribulations: and the servant may not look to be in better condition than the master.  
12. The King sent the Bishop of Durham and Sir Thomas More Ambassadors to Cambray (a place, then, neither Imperial nor French) to treat of a peace between the Emperor and the French King and Him. In the conclusion, Sir Thomas so worthily behaved himself (procuring in the league far more advantages unto this Kingdom, than at that time by the King or his Council was thought possible) that for his good service in that employment, the King made him Lord Chancellor, and caused the Dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk to bring him through Westminster-hall to his place in the Chancery. Where the Duke of Norfolk in audience of all the people there assembled, shown that he was from the King himself streitly charged by commission, there openly in presence of them all, to make Declaration how much all England ●as beholding to Sir Tho. More for his good service, ●nd how worthy he was of the highest preferment in the Kingdom, and how dearly his Grace loved and trusted him.  
13. Now upon Sir Tho: More's entrance into this honourable Office, every one might perceive a very strange alteration. For, whereas the precedent Chancellor Wolsey would scarce look or speak to any; into whose only presence none could be admitted unless his fingers were tipped with gold: on the contrary, this Chancellor, the poorer and meaner the Suppliant was, the more affably he would speak unto him, the more attentively he would hearken to his cause, and with speedy trial dispatch him. For which purpose he used commonly every afternoon to sit in his Hall, that if any Person watsoever had any suit unto him, they might the more boldly come into his presence, and open their complaints before him. To show his integrity, he professed: If the parties will at my hands call for justice, though my Father, whom I dearly love, stood on the one side, and the Devil, whom I extremely hate, stood on the other, his cause being good, the Devil should have right.  
14. The Bishops (considering his learned works in defence of religion, and knowing that (for all his Prince's favour) he was no rich man, nor advanced in yearly revenues, as his worthiness deserved) agreed together in Convocation, and concluded upon a sum of four or five thousand pounds to recompense him for his pains. T●nstal and some other Bishops repaired to him, and declared, That albeit they could not according to his deserts so worthily requite him as they gladly would, but must refer that only to the goodness of God; yet for a small part of recompense, in respect of his estate so unequal to his worthiness, in the name of their whole Convocation, they presented to him that sum, which they desired him to accept of. To whom he answered: That like as it was no small comfort to him, that so wise and learned men so well accepted o his do, for which he never intended to receive reward but at the hands of God only, to whom alone was the thanks thereof chief to be ascribed; so also he most humbly thanked the Honours for their bountiful consideration; But, for all their importunity, they could not fasten it upon him, nor would he suffer them to bestow it upon his wife and children.  
15. He behaved himself in his office of the Chancellorship (for the space of two years and a half) so wisely that none could mend his do, so uprightly that none could take exception against him, so dextrously that ('tis to be supposed) never any man before or since did that which h● did. For he had taken such order for the dispatching of all men's causes, that on a time sitting as Judge there, and having finished one cause, calling for the next to be heard, answer was made, That there was not one cause more depending. This he caused to be set down upon Record.  
16. After he had obtained of the King a discharge from his office, he fell into his Majesty's displeasure about ●he Marriage. And then was he accused for receiving a bribe from one Vaughan's wife. The matter being laid to his charge before the Council, he confessed, that a gilt Cup being (long after a certain Decree) brought him for a ●●w years gift, and pressed on him, in courtesy he received it. Whereupon his Adversary with much joy said, Lo, my Lords, did I not tell y●u, that you should find the matter true? Sir Thomas desiring their Lordships to hear him out, It is true, said he, I did, being much urged, receive that Cup, but immediately caused my Butler to fill it with wine, drank to the Gentle ●oman, and freely gave it to her again to be presented to her husband, as a New years gift for him. This being testified presently upon oath of the party herself and others, the mountain was delivered of a Mouse.  
17. After the King's indignation against Sir Thomas More, the Duke of Norfolk and He chanced to fall in discourse, and amongst other talk, the Duke said unto him, By the Mass, Mr More, it is perilous striving with Princes, and therefore I would wish you somewhat to incline to the King's pleasure. For, Indignatio Principis mors est. Is that all, my Lord, said Sir Thomas, Then in good faith is there no more difference betwixt your Grace and me, but that I shall die to day and you to morrow.  
18. When he was sent unto the Tower (for not swearing to the Oath of Supremacy and Succession) at his entrance there, the Porter demanded of him his upper garment. Mr Porter, said he, here it is: and took off his Cap and g●ve it him: I am sorry it is no better for thee. No Sir, said the Porter, I must have your Gown, which he gave him.  
19 The Lieutenant coming into his chamber to visit him, professed himself obliged by former favours to entertain him nobly: which since he could not do for fear of the King's displeasure, he prayed him to accept of his good will, and such poor fare as he had: Master Lieutenant (quoth Sir Thomas) I believe you are my friend, I thank you for your good will, and I assure you I d● not mislike my cheer: but whensoever I do, than thrus● me out of your doors.  
20. In the ●ower, he had begun a Divine Treatise of the Passion of Christ, and when he came to these words of the Gospel, (And the) laid hands on him and held him) they ●ook from him all his Books, Ink, and Paper, so that he could go on no further. Afterwards, he applied himself holly to Meditation, keeping his Chamber windows fast shut and very dark; the occasion whereof the Lieutenant ask; It is time (said he) when all the wares are gone to shut up shop.  
21. After he had received the sentence of death, he said to the Judges: My Lords, as w● read that Paul consented to the death of Stephen, and yet be they now both Saints in Heaven, and shall continue there friends for ever; so I verily trust, and shall therefore right hearty pray, that though your Lordship's have been now Judges on earth to my condemnation, we may yet hereafter all meet together in Heaven merrily to our everlasting salvation. And so I pray God preserve my Sovereign Lord the King, and send him faithful Councillors.  
* See the rest, if you please, in this English Writer, or in Stapleton's Latin book, Detribus Thomis.   


Sr. Henry Wotton Kt.    

VII. Sir HENRY WOTTON.  
Out of his Life written by Mr Iz: Walton. D. Roberto Jones, Rect. de Leckhampton.  
1. SIR Henry Wotton was born An. 1568. in Boctonhall, in the Pa●ish of Bocto● Malherb, in the fruitful Country of Kent: both House and Church seated within a fair Park of the Wottons, on the brow of such a hill as gives the advantage of a large prospect, and of equal pleasure to all beholder's. But they are not remarkable for any thing so much, as for that the memorable Family of the Wottons h●ve so long inh●bited the one, and now lie bu●ied in the other, as appears by their m●ny Monuments in that Church; the Wottons being a Family, th●t b●th brought fo●th divers Persons eminent for Wisdom and Valour, whose Heroic Acts and Noble Employments, both in England and in Foreign parts, have adorned themselves and this Nation.  
2. Thomas Wotton (the Father of our Henry) was a Gent. excellently educated and studious in all the liberal Arts: who, although he had many invitations from Queen Elizabeth to change his Countr●e recreations and retirement for a Court life, offering him a Knighthood (she was then with him at his Boctonhall) and to be but as an earnest of some more honourable and more profitable employment under her, yet he humbly refuseth both; being a man of great modesty, of a most plain and single heart, of an ancient freedom and integrity of mind: A commendation, which Sir Henry took occasion often to remember with great gladness, and thankfully to boast himself the Son of such a Father: from whom indeed he derived that noble Ingenuity that was always practised by himself, and which he ever commended and cherished in others.  
3. Of this Family was Nicholas Wotton Doctor of Law, and sometime Dean of Canterbury: a man whom God did not only bless with a long life, but with great abilitiès of mind, and an inclination to employ them in the service of his Country; as is testified by his several employments, having been sent nine times Ambassador unto foreign Princes, a Privy Councillor to ●. Henry 8 Edward 6. Q. Marry and Q. Elizabeth: who employed him three several times for settling of peace between England, Scotland and France, who also offered him the Archbishopric of Cant. but he refused it, and died not rich, though he had lived in the time of dissolution of Abbeys. He died (saith learned Camden) full of commendation for Wisdom and Piety.  
4. The Father of Sir Henry after the death of his first wife resolved, if he should marry again, to avoid three sorts of persons; namely, those that had children, or had law suits, or were of his kindred. And yet, following his own Lawsuits, he met in Westminster-hall with one Mrs Morton widow, (daughter to Sir William Finch of Kent) who was also engaged in several suits in Law: and observing her Comportment at the time of hearing one of her Causes before the Judges, he could not but at the same time both compassionate her condition, and so affect her person, that although there was in her a concurrence of all those accidents against which he had resolved, yet he solicited her for a wife and obtained her. By her he had our Henry, his youngest son.  
5. His Mother was Tutoresse to him during his childhood: for hich care and pains he paid her every day with such visible signs of future perfection in learning, as turned her employment into a pleasing trouble. After, his Father took him into his particular care, and disposed of him to a Tutor in his own house: and when time and diligent instruction had fitted him (which was very early) he was sent to Winch●ster School, a place of strict Discipline and Order, that so he might in his youth be mo●ded into a method of living by rule. And that he might be confirmed in this regularity, he was at a fit age removed from that School to New Coll: in Oxford.  
6. There he continued till about the 18th year of his age, and was then transplanted into Queens Coll. where within that year he wrote a Play for their private use, the Tragedy of Tancredo, so ell, that the gravest of that Society declared, he had in a slight exercise given an early and a solid te●imony of future abilities. About the 19th year of his age, he proceeded Master of Arts, and at that time read in Latin three Lectures De oculo: wherein, having described the form, motion, curious composure of the eye, etc. in the conclusion he took a fair occasion to beautify his discourse with a commendation of the blessing and benefit of seeing; so exactly and Rhetorically, as, among other admirers, caused that learned Italian Albericus Gentilis (than professor of the Civil Law in Oxford) to call him, Henrice mi ocelle; which dear expression of his was used by many other persons of note, during his stay in the University.  
7. After his Optic Lecture, he was taken into such a bosom friendship with Gentilis, that if it had been possible, he would have breathed all his excellent knowledge both of the Mathematics and Law into the breast of his dear Henry (for so he used to call him) and though he was not able to do that, yet there was in Sir Harrie such a propensity and connaturalness to the Italian language and those studies whereof Gentilis was a great Master, that this friendship between them did daily increase and proved daily advantageous to Sir Henry for the improvement of him in several Sciences. Among his other friends in Oxford, I must not omit the mention of a love there begun between him and Dr Donne (whom, he of this nation, who pretends to learning or ingenuity, and is ignorant of, deserves not to kno●.) This friendship was generously elemented, and as it was begun in their Youth in the ●niversity, and there maintained by correspondent inclination and studies, so it lasted till Age and Death forced a separation.  
8. The year after Sir Henry proceeded Master of Arts; his Father (whom he did never mention without this or some like reverential expression, That good man my Father) changed this for a better life, leaving to Sir Henry, as to his other younger sons, a rend charge of an hundred Marks a year to be paid for ever out of one of his Manors of a much greater value. About two years after, being about t●o and twenty, and having to his great Wit added the ballast of Learning, he laid aside his Books, and betook himself to travel and a more general conversation with Mankind: employing the remaining part of his youth to purchase the rich treasure of foreign knowledge. Of which, both for the secrets of nature, the dispositions of many Nations, their several Laws and Languages, he became the possessor in a very large measure.  
9 In his Travels (which was almost nine years before his return into England) he stayed but one year in France, and most of that in Geneva: where he became acquainted with Theodore Beza, (than very aged) and with Isaac Casaubon, that most learned man. Three of the remaining eight years were spent in Germany, the other five in Italy the stage on which God appointed he should act a great part of his life) where both in Rome, Venice, and Florence, he became acquainted with the most eminent men for learning and all manner of Arts, as Picture, Sculpture, Chemistry, Architecture, and divers other manual Arts, even Arts of inferior nature: of all which he was a most dear lover, and a most excellent Judge.  
12. He returned out of Italy into England about the 30th year of his Age, being then noted by many, both for his person and comportment. For indeed he was of a choice shape, tall of stature, and of a most pleasant behaviour: which was so mixed with sweet discourse and civilities, as gained him much love from all persons with whom he entered into an acquaintance. And whereas he was noted in his youth to have a sharp wit and apt to jest; That, by time, travel and conversation, was so polished and made useful, that his company seemed to be one of the delights of mankind. In so much as Robert Earl of Essex (than one of the darlings of fortune) invited him first into a friendship, and after a knowledge of his great Abilities, to be one of his Secretaries. After the Earls Apprehension, he passed into France and thence into Ita●y. After some stay in France, (where he met with his old friend Vietta, than Secretary to the great Duke) he went the fourth time to visit Rome, and enjoyed the company of his friends (notwithstanding his Religion) in the English College, and satisfied himself concerning some curiosities.  
11. After his return to Florence, the Duke having intercepted certain Letters that discovered a design to take away the life of the then King of Scots, sent Sir Henry to impart it to the King, under the name of Octovio Paldi an Italian. Having delivered his Letters and Message, and privately told the King that he was indeed in Erglish-man, he abode there three months with much pleasure to his Majesty, and so returned to Florence with a fair account of his employment. Queen Elizabeth, some few months after departed, and King James was proclaimed. When he was come into England, he commanded the Lord Wotton to fend for his Brother Henry. Being brought to the King, he took him in his arms and bade him welcome by the name of Octovio Baldi, saying, He was the most honest, and therefore the best dissembler that ever he met with; adding, Since I know you neither want learning, travel nor experience, and that I have had so real a testimony of your faithfulness and abilities to manage an Embassage, I shall make use of you in that kind hereafter. And indeed the King did so, mo●t of those 22 years of his reign: but before he dismissed Octavio Baldi from his present attendance upon him, he resto ed him to his old name of Henry Wotton, by which he then Knighted him.  
12. Not long after this, the King having resolved, according to his Motto, Beati pacifici, to have ● friendship with his neighbour Kingdoms of France and Spain; and also for divers weighty reasons to enter into an alliance with the State of Ven●ce; ●nd to that end to send Ambassadors to these several places; did propose the choice of these employments to Sir Henry Wotton. Who considering the smallness of his own estate (which he never took care to augment) and knowing the Courts of great Princes to be sumptuous and necessarily expensive, inclined most to that of Venice, as being a place of more retirement and best suiting with his Genius, who did ever love to join with bus●nesse study and a trial of natural experience; fo● which, fruitful Italy, that darling of nature, and cherisher of all arts, is so justly famed in all parts of the Christian World. Having therefore resolved upon Venice, and a large allowance being appointed by the King for his voyage thither, and a settled maintenance during his stay there, he left England, nobly accompanied through France to Venice by gentlemen of the best Families and Breeding that this Nation afforded. Sir Albertus Morton his Nephew went his Secretary, and William Bedel, a man of choice learning and sanctified wisdom, his Chaplain.  
13. An. 1605. Sir Henry Wotton was received by the State of Venice with much honour and gladness, both for that he delivered his Embassage most elegantly in the Italian Language, and came also in such a juncture of time, as his Master's friendship seemed useful for that Republic. In the contention with the Pope (which lasted several years) the Venetians still acquainted K. James with their proceed, by the help of Sir Henry Wotton, Mr Bedel, and Padre Paulo, whom the Venetians did then call to be one of their Consultors of State, and with his pen to defend their cause. Which was by him so performed, that the Pope saw plainly, he had weakened his power by exceeding it, and offered the Venetians Absolution upon very easy terms; which the Venetians still slighting, did at last obtain by that which was scarce so much as a show of acknowledging it. These Contests were the occasion of Padre Paulo his knowledge and interest with K. James: for whose sake principally Father Paulo compiled that eminent History of the Council of Trent. W●ich History was, as fast as it was written, sent in several sheets in Letters by Sir H. Wotton, Mr Bedel and others unto K. James, and the then B. of Cant: in England, and there first made public both in ●nglish and in the Universal Language.  
14. For eight years after Sir Henry Wotton's going into Italy, he stood fair, and highly valued but at last became much clouded by this accident Being merry with his friends at Augusta (men of. the best note for learning and ingenuousness, the Virtuosos of that Nation) he was requested by Christopher ●lecamore to write some Sentence in his Albo (a book of white paper, which for that purpose many of the Germane Gentry usually carry about them) and consenting to the motion, took an occasion from some accidental discourse of the present company, to write a pleasant definition of an Ambassador in these very words: Legatus est Vir bonus peregrè missus ad mentiendum Reipub. causa: which Sir Henry could have been content should have been thus Englished: An Ambassador is an honest man sent to lie abroad for the good of his Country. But the word for lie (being the hinge upon which the conceit was to turn) was not so express in Latin as would admit (in the hands of an enemy especially) so fair a construction as Sir Henry thought in English. This coming to the knowledge of K. James by the malicious pen of Caspar Scioppius, much offended his Majesty: and this caused Sir Henry Wotton to write two Apologies, one in Latin to Velserus, and another to K. James: which were so ingenuous, so clear, and so choicely eloquent, that his Majesty (who was a pure Judge of it) could not so bear to declare publicly, That Sir H. Wo●ton had commuted sufficiently for a greater offence. And now, as broken bones well set become stronger; so Sir Henry Wotton did not only recover, but was much more confirmed in his Majesty's favour.  
15. And his Interest still increased with the Duke Leonardo Donato: after whose death (as though it had been an entailed love) it was still found living in the succeeding Dukes, during all the time of his employment to that State; which was almost 20 years. All which time he studied the Dispositions of those Dukes, & the Consultors of State▪ well knowing, that he who negotiates a continual business and neglects the study of dispositions, usually fails in his proposed ends: But this Sir H. Wotton did not. For by a fine sorting of fit Presents, curious and not costly entertainments, always sweetened by various and pleasant discourse, by his choice application of stories, and his so elegant delivery of all these, even in their Italian Language, he first got, and still preserved such interest in the State of Venice, that it was observed (such was either his merit or his modesty) they never denied him any request.  
16. When he had attended the Emperor and Germane Princes eight months, to in cline them to equitable conditions for the Restoration of the Queen of Bohemia and her Descendants to their Patrimonial Inheritance of the Palatinate, and had brought the business to a probability of success; but after a victory gotten by the Imperial Army, saw the face of peace altered; at his departure from the Emperor, he was so bold, as humbly to advise him to use his Victory soberly, and still put on thoughts of peace. Which advice though it seemed to be spoke with some passion, yet was taken in good part by the Emperor, who was ever much pleased with his carriage, all the time that he resided in his Court; and said, That though the King his Master was looked on as an Abetter of his enemy the Palsgrave, yet he took him to be a Person of much honour and merit, and did therefore desire him to accept of that Jewel, as a testimony of his good opinion of him: which was a Jewel of Diamonds of more value than a thousand pounds. This was received with all circumstances and terms of honour by Sir H. Wotton: but the next morning at his departing from Vienna, at his taking leave of the Countess of Sa●vina, an Italian Lady, in whose house the emperor had appointed him to be lodged and honourably entertained; He acknowledged her merits, and besought her to accept of that Jewel, as a testimony of his gratitude: presenting her with the same that was given him by the Emperor. Which being suddenly discovered by the Emperor, was by him taken for a high affront, and Sir H. Wotton told so. To which (in the nobleness of his mind) he replied: That though he received it with thankfulness, yet he found in himself an indisposition to be the better for any gift that came from an Enemy to his Royal Mistress: for so the Queen of Bohemia was pleased he should call her.  
17. Many other of his Services to his Prince and this Nation might be insisted on, as his procuration of Privileges and courtesies with the Germane Princes and the Republic of Venice for the English Merchants, his releasing and relieving many hundred captivated English soldiers, and sending them back in a comfortable condition to thank God for their lives and liberty, in their own Nation: but I must hast to bring Sir H. Wotton in an instant from Venice to London, whither he returned that year in which K. James died.  
18. The King had, for the reward of his foreign service, promised him the reversion of an Office, which was fit to be turned into present money, and also granted him the Reversion of the Master of the Rolls place, if he outlived charitable Sir Julius Caesar, who then possessed it, and then grown so old that he was said to be kept alive, beyond nature's course, by the prayers of those many poor which he daily relieved. Mean while, his condition required present support. For in the beginning of these employments he sold to his elder brother the Lord Wotton the Rent-charge left by his good Father, and (which is worse) was now at his return indebted to several persons, whom he was not able to satisfy, but by the King's payment of his Arrears: He had brought into England many servants; of whom some were Germane and Italian Artists. This was part of his condition, who had many times hardly sufficient to supply the occasions of the day. (For it may by no means be said of his providence, as himself said of Sir Philip Sidney's wit, That it was the very measure of congruity.) he being always so careless of money, as though our Saviour's words, Care not for to morrow, were to be literally understood.  
19 But it pleased God, that in this juncture of time, the Provostship of his Majesty's College of Eton became void by the death of Murray, for which there were (as the place deserved) many earnest and powerful Suitors to the King. Sir Henry, who had for many years rolled the restless stone of a State employment, and knowing experimentally, that the great blessing of sweet content was not to be found in multitudes of men or business, and that a College was the fittest place to nourish holy thoughts, and to afford rest both to his body and mind, which his Age (being now almost threescore years) seemed to require; did therefore use his own and the interest of all his Friends to procure it. By which means, and quitting the King of his promised reversionary Offices (and by a piece of honest policy) he got a grant of it from his Majesty.  
20. And this was a fair settlement to his mind: but money was wanting to furnish him with those necessaries which attend removes and a settlement in such a place. To procure that, he wrote to his old friend Mr Nicholas Pey (in whom was a radicated honesty and true gratitude to the Family, having been preferred at Co●rt by the Lord Wotton) to use all his interest to procure five hundred pounds of his Arrears; for less would not settle him at the College, and the want of it wrinkled his face with cares ('twas his own expression) and that being procured he should the next day after find him in his College, and Invidiae remedium writ over his study door.  
21. This money being procured, and he being settled according to the desires of his heart (the College being to his mind as a quiet harbour to a Seafaring man after a tempestuous voyage) his first study was the Statutes of the College: by which he conceived himself bound to enter into Holy Orders, which he did, being made Deacon with convenient speed. Shortly after, as he came in his Surplice from the Church-service, an old friend, a person of quality, met him so attired, and joyed him: to whom Sir H. Wotton replied, I thank God and the King, by whose goodness I now ●m in this condition, a condition which the Emperor Charles the fifth seemed to approve, etc. I daily magnify my God for this particular mercy of an exemption from business, a quiet mind and a liberal maintenance, even in this part of my life, when my Age and infirmities seem to sound me a retreat from the pleasures of this world, and invite me to contemplation; in which I have ever taken the greatest felicity.  
21. After his customary public Devotions, his use was to retire into his Study, and there to spend some hours in reading the Bible and Autho●s in Divinity, closing up his Meditations with private prayer. This was, for the most part, his employment in the forenoon. But, when he was once sat at Dinner, than nothing but cheerful thoughts possessed his mind, and those still increased by constant company at his Table such persons as brought thither additions both of learning and pleasure. But some part of most days was usually spent in Philosophical conclusions. Nor did he forget his innate pleasure of Angling; which he did usually call, his idle time, not idly spent: saying, He would rather live five May-months, than forty December's. He was a great lover of his neighbours, and a bountiful entertainer of them very often at his Table: where his meat was choice, and his discourse better.  
22. He was a constant cherisher of all those Youths in that School, in whom he found etiher a constant diligence, or a genius that prompted them to learning. For whose encouragement he was (beside many other things of necessity and bounty) at the charge of setting up in it two rows of Pillars, on which he caused to be drawn the pictures of divers of the most famous Greek and Latin Historians, Poets and Orators; persivading them not to neglect Rhetoric, Because Almighty God has left mankind Affections to be wrought upon. And he would often say, That none despised Eloquence, but such dull Souls as were not capable of it. He would also often make choice of Observations out of those Historians and Poets▪ but he would never leave the School without dropping some choice Greek or Latin Apothegm or Sentence, such as were worthy of a room in the memory of a growing Scholar. He was pleased constantly to breed up one or more hopely Youths, which he picked out of the School, and took into his own domestic care, and to attend him at his meals: Out of whose behaviour and discourse, he gathered observations for the better completing of his intended work of Education: of which, by his still striving to make the whole better, he lived to leave but part of posterity.  
23. He was a great enemy to wrangling Disputes of Religion. Having in Rome made acquaintance with a pleasant Priest, who invited him one evening to hear their Vesper music at Church; the Priest seeing Sir Henry stand obscurely in a corner, sends to him by a boy of the Choir this question writ in a small piece of paper, Where was your Religion to be found before Luther? To which question Sir Henry presently underwit, My religion was to be found then where yours is not to be found now: in the written word of God. To another that asked him, Whether a Papist may be saved, he replied, You may be saved without knowing that: look to yourself. To another, whose earnestness exceeded his knowledge, and was still railing against the Papists, he gave this advice; Pray Sir forbear, till you have studied the points better: for the wise Italians have this Proverb, He that understands amiss, concludes worse. And take heed of thinking, the farther you go from the Church of Rome, the nearer you are to God.  
24. And to another that spoke indiscreet and bitter words against Arminius, I heard him reply to this purpose: In my travels, I rested almost a year at Leyden, where I entered into an acquaintance with Arminius, than Professor of Divinity in that University, a man much talked off in this Age, which is made up of opposition and contrariety. And indeed, if I mistake not Arminius in bis expressions (as so weak a brain as mine is may easily do) than I know and differ from him in some points: Yet, I profess my judgement of him to be, that he was a man of most rare learning; and I know him to be of a most strict life, and of a most meek spirit.— And doubtless many middle witted men (which yet may mean well:) many Scholars that are not in the highest Form for learning (which yet may preach well:) do justly fall under the reproof of S. Judas, for being busybodies, and for meddling with things they understand not.  
25. This is some Account both of his Inclination and the Employment of his time in the College: where he seemed to have his Youth renewed by a continual conversation with that learned Society, and a daily recourse of other friends of choicest breeding and parts: by which that great blessing of a cheerful heart was still maintained, he being always free, even to the last of his days, from that peevishness which usually attends age. Yet his mirth was sometimes dampt by the remembrance of divers old debts: and finding some decays of health, he did, about two years before his death, that none should be a loser by it, make his last Will. Concerning which a doubt still remains, whether it discovered more holy wit or conscionable policy: but there is no doubt, but that his chief design was a Christian endeavour, that his debts might be satisfied, (as appeareth by this part of it.)  
To my Lord's Grace of Cant: now being, I leave my picture of divine love, rarely copied from one in the King's Galleries of my presentation to his Majesty: beseeching him to receive it as a pledge of my humble reverence to his great wisdom. And to the most worthy L. B. of London, Lord high Treasurer of England, in true admiration of his Christian simplicity and contempt of earthly pomp, I leave a Picture of Heraclitus bewailing, and Democritus laughing at the world: most humbly beseeching the said Lo. Archb. his Grace, and the Lo. B. of London, of both whose favours I have rasted in my life time, to intercede with our most Gracious Sovereign after my death, in the bowels of Jesus Christ, that out of compassionate memory of my long services (wherein I more studied the public Honour than mine own Utility) some order may be taken out of my Arrears due in the Exchequer for satisfection of my Creditors, etc.  
Accordingly, conscionable satisfaction was given for his just debts.  
26. He went usually once a year, if not oftener, to the beloved Boctonhall: where, he would say, he found both cure for all cares by the company (which he called the living furniture) of that place, and a restorative of his health by the connaturalness of that which he called his genial air. He yearly went also to Oxford: but the Summer before his death he changed that for a journey to W●nchester College. And as he returned said to his companion: How useful was that advice of a holy Monk, who persuaded his friend to perform his customary devotions in a constant place: because in that place, we usually meet with those thoughts which possessed us at our last being there. And I find it thus far experimentally true, that at my now being at that School, seeing that very place where I sat when I was a boy, occasioned me to remember those thoughts of my Youth which then possessed me, etc.  
27. After his return from Winchester, he fell into a dangerous fever which weakened him much: ●e was then also much troubled with a continual short spitting; but that infirmity he seemed to overcome in a good degree by leaving Tobacco, which he had taken somewhat immoderately. And about two months before his death (Oct. 1639.) he again fell into a fever, which though ●e seemed to recover, yet these still left him so weak, that those common infirmities (which were wont like civil friends to visit him, and after some short time to departed) came both oftener, and at last took up their constant habitations with him, still weakening his body. In the beginning of a December following he fell again into a Quartane fever; and in the tenth fit, his better part, that part of Sir Henry Wotton which could not die, put off mortality, with as much content and cheerfulness, as humane frailty is capable of, being in perfect peace with God and man.  
His Epitaph by himself.  
Hic jacet hujus sententiae primus Author, Disputandi pruritus, ●cclesiarum scabies, Nomen aliàs quaere.  
Another sentence wherein he delighted: Animas fieri sapientiores quiescendo.  
Another, Amor unit omnia.  
Ob. Etonae, Anno Sal. 1639. Aetat. 72.   


   

VIII. Mr WILLIAM BEDEL, Bishop of Kilmore.  
Out of Mr Iz: Walton, and Bish: Hall. D. Thomae Carls, Rect. de Barnesley.  
1. WHen King James sent Sir Henry Wotton Ambassador to the State of Venice, he sent also an Ambassador to the King of France, and another to the King of Spain. With the Ambassador of France went Joseph Hall (late B. of N.) whose many and useful Works speak his great merit: with the Ambassador of Spain, Ja. Wadsworth: and with Sir Henry Wotton, William Bedel.  
2. These three Chaplains to these three Embassdors, were all bred in one University, all of one College, all Beneficed in one Diocese, and all most dear and entire friends. But in Spain Mr Wadsworth met with temptations or reasons, such as were so powerful as to persuade him (who of the three was formerly observed to be the most averse to that Religion that calls itself Catholic) to disdain himself a Member of the Church of England, and declare himself for the Church of Rome, discharging himself of his Attendance on the Ambassador, and betaking himself to a Monasterial life; in which he lived very regularly, and so died.  
3. When Mr Hall came into England, he wrote to Mr Wadsworth ('tis the first Epistle in his Decades) to persuade his return, or the reason of his Apostasy. The Letter seemed to have many expressions of love, and yet there was something in it that was so unpleasant to Mr Wadsworth, that he chose rather to acquaint his old friend Mr Bedel with his Motives.  
4. By which means there passed between Mr Bedel and Mr Wadsworth very many Letters, which be extant in print, and did well deserve it: for in them there seems to be a controversy, not of Religion only, but, who should answer each other with most love and meekness. Which I mention the rather, because it seldom falls out so in a Book-war.  
5. Mr Hall in an Epistle to Mr Bedel at Venice, having lamented the death of our late Divines, addeth: What should this work in us, but an imitation, yea (that word is not too big for you) an emulation of their worthiness? The Church, our Mother, looks for much at your hands: She knows how rich our common Father hath left you: She notes your graces, your opportunities, your employments: She thinks you are gone so far, like a good Merchant, for no small gain, and looks you shall come home well laded. Let me persuade you to gratify us at home with the publication of that your exquisite Polemical Discourse, whereto our conference with Mr Alabaster gave so happy an occasion. You shall hereby clear many truths, and satisfy all Readers: yea I doubt not, but an Adversary, not too perverse, shall acknowledge the truth's victory and Yours.  
6. In a Letter of Sir Henry Wotton's to the King, is mentioned a Petition to his Majesty from persons directed hither by the good wishes of the Archbishop of Armagh, to make Mr Bedel (than Resident upon a small Penefice in Suffolk) Governor of Dublin College for the good of that Society. And Sir Henry himself being required to render some testimony of Mr Bedel, long his Chaplain at Venice, in the time of his first employment there, goeth on thus: I am bound in all conscience of truth (so far as your Majesty will vouchsafe to accept my p●ot Judgement) to affirm of him, that I think hardly a fit man for that charge, could have been propounded unto your Majesty in your whole Kingdom, for singular erudition and piety, conformity to the Rites of the Church, and zeal to advance the Cause of God: wherein his Travels abroad were not obscure, in the time of the excommunication of the Venetians.  
7. Then he certifies the King: This is the Man whom Padre Paulo took, I may say, into his very soul; with whom he did communicate the inwardest thoughts of his heart; from whom he professed to have received more knowledge in all Divinity, both Scholastical and Positive, than from any that he had ever practised in his days. Of which all the passages were well known to the King your Father of most blessed Memory.  
8. And so he concludes in these words: With your Majesty's good favour I end this needless office: for the general fame of his learning, his life, and Christian temper, and those religious labours which himself hath Dedicated to your Majesty, do better describe him then I am able.  
9 Mr Bedel was (to the great joy of Sir Henry Wotton) made Governor of the said College: and, after a fair discharge of his duty and trust there, he was thence removed to be Bishop of Kilmore. In both which places, his life was so holy, as seemed to equal the primitive Christians: for, as they, so he kept all the Ember-weeks, observed (besides his private devotions) the Canonical hours of prayer very strictly; and so he did all the Feasts and Fast-days of his Mother the Church of England: his patience and charity were both such, as shown his affections were set upon things above.  
10: Indeed his whole life brought forth the fruits of the Spirit, there being in him such a remarkableness, that he had a good report of those th●●●●re without. Those that in point of Religion were of the Roman persuasion (of which there were many in his Diocese) did yet ever look upon him with respect and reverence; and testified it by a concealing and safe protecting him, in the late horrid Rebellion in Ireland: when the fury of the wild Irish knew no distinction of persons, yet there and then was he protected and cherished by those of a contrary persuasion; and there and then he died, though not by violence.  
11. With him were lost many of his learned Writings, which were worthy of preservation: and, among the rest, was lost the Bible, which, by many years' labour and conference and study, he had translated into the Irish Tongue, with an intent to have printed it for public use.   


DE DOMINIS facies hcec est, quem Roma cremav●● Cur ais▪ Ausonium liquerat ille jovem.    

IX. M. ANT. de DOMINIS, Dean of Windsor.  
Out of Dr Barwick. D. Roberto Glyn,, Rect. de Risington p.  
1. ABout the year 1618. there came over into England that very learned, tho●gh unfortunate man, Marcus Antonius de Dominis, Archbishop of Spalleto, Primate of Dalmatia, etc. Which, (as he was wont to glory,) was St Hieroms Native Country, as well as his.  
2. This great Scholar, (after he had so profoundly asserted the truth of Christian Religion, as it is professed and practised in the Church of England, in so many particulars against the errors and Corruptions of the See of Rome, in his Learned and laborious books, De Republica Ecclesiastica; and had also from the King's bounty received so great encouragements for his honourable supports, as the Deanery of Windsour and Mastership of the Sa●oy, besides many rich and yearly presents, not only from the Bishops and Clergy, but also from the Nobility and Gentry.) Was so far wrought upon by that Politician Cou●t Gondamar, the Spanish Ambassador then in England, and other instruments of the See of Rome, (that sought his ruin under some specious pretences,) as to take up a resolution of returning to Rome; and could not be dissuaded from it by his true friends; that really endeavoured hi● security. Among whom Bishop Morton was neither the least nor last, who very earnestly advised him, both by word and writing, not to venture himself upon such a hopeless and hassardous journey.  
3. The Archbishops pretence was very plausible and commendable (and how real he was in it, must be left to God,) namely, to negotiate an unity in Religion between the Church of Rome and the Church of England, upon those moderate grounds which he had laid down, and so well defended in his learned and laborious Works printed here at London. He app●uded himself in the excellency of the work, in removing the Schism; and of the honour in becoming a Repairer of the breach, and of the reward which is promised to the peace makers. And he thought himself the more likely to go through with his work, by reason of the seasonable opportuaitie he had at that time, when Gregory the fifteenth was newly chosen Pope who had been of his old and intimate acquaintance, brought up in the same School and College with him. And however, he was resolved to make an attempt; because if he failed in it, he hoped he should lose nothing but his labour; for as for his Indemnity, Count Gondamar had promised him the security of the King of Spain his Master. But how well that promise was performed, will appear by the Sequel.  
4. While he was swelled up full with this promise and these hopes, Dr Morton the Bishop of Lichfield and Co●●ntrie coming to visit him, had this ensuing discourse with him, (among many others) which I have often heard him repeat with pleasure, and shall therefore insert it; and the rather, because it shows us of how little authority the Council of Trent would be, if it were not fo● the terror of the inquisition. Leichf. Domine quid tibi in animo est? Anne convertere Papam? Atque etiam conclave papale? Spal: Quid ni domine? Anne existimas eos diabo o● esse, ut non possint converti? Lei●hf: Minime Domine; nec puto dominum Spalatensum deum esse ut hoc possit praestare: Nostin enim concilium ●ridientinum. Spal. Novi domine, & ausus sum tibi dicere, Millies Mille sunt, etiam in Italia, qui huic concilio fidem nullam adhibeant.  
5. This discourse (●nd many other) having passed between them, they parted friendly. And not long after did this Bishop reinforce his arguments, with an addition of many more, in a long and learned Epistle to him. Wherein, (among other Motives to dissuade him from his ●ourny) he used one, wherein he shown himself a true Prophet, concerning the entertainment he was like to have at Rome. Which proved to be, that before he g●t to Rome Pope Gregory the fifteenth his old friend, was dead, and a successor chosen in his pl●ce; by whom this Archbishop was imprisoned in Castro Saint Angelo. Where he died, not without strong suspicion of murder or poison: And his body was afterward burnt, (as of an Heretic,) in Campo Flori.  
6. I could here start a problematical question concerning this learned Arch bishop. Whether or no did he ever retract his works, which he pulished in print? If he did, why did they at Rome bu●n his body for Heresy? If not, than they abused him in his life time, as well as after his de●th, in the manifesto whi●h they put forth in his n●me, which w●s so learnedly answered by Dr Crakanthrop. There is but one way of avoiding this Dilemma, (and that will bring them into a greate● straight than either of the other,) namely, That they burned him after his death for what he retracted in his life time; and if they own this, they must withal proclaim their unjustice and cruelty to the world. Let them take it in which sense they will, his reasons and arguments laid down and urged in his learned works will more condemn their cause than the altering of his opinion, (supposing but not granting that he ever altered it,) can tend to their advantage. ●is many clear and convincing Authorities, from the holy scriptures, Counsels, argumentative to any indifferent person that is not wilfully prepossessed; then his own dubious perhaps imposed) authority can countervail.  
7. His Manifesto, (if it was his) consisteth only in affirming or denying in bare words: in his Works, whatsoever i● affirmed or denied, is back● with such convincing and irrefragable arguments, as no man hath taken the boldness in above forty years since they were written, to undertake the answering of them.   

X. Mr ABRAHAM WHEELOCK.  
D. Tho: Hyde, Biblioth. B. suum reddo.  
1. THe excellent Mr Wheelock was descended of honest plain Parents in the Country: by whose pious care he was bred up at School, till he was sufficiently furnished with good learning and ripe years to salute the University. At which time he was sent to King's College in Cambridge: where he was so sedulous and studious, especially in the Oriental Languages, Hebrew, Arabic, Persian, etc. that he did not sooner obtain Degrees than Fame, both in the University and a● broad.  
2. After he had some years enjoyed the Degree of Master of Arts in the Unniversity, Sir Henry Spelman, that rare Antiquary and lover of his Country, did allow to him an Annual stipend of thirty pounds, to explain the Saxon Tongue publicly in the Schools: and the Noble Sir Thomas Adam's Alderman of London did, as long as Mr Wheelock lived, constantly confer u●on him forty pounds per annum for the maintenance of an Arabic Lecture, which Mr Wheelock likewise read publicly. And this they did, not only o●t of th●t respect, which they owed to the University, but out of the great esteem they had of Mr Wheelock's worth ●n● merits: fo●, being assured of his great Abilities, they thought i● not meet that so clear a l●ght should be hid, but shine forth for the common benefit.  
3. After this, in the year 1644, he set forth Venerable Bede's History in Saxon and Latin, with the addition of his own learned Notes.  
4. The ne●t thing he attempted was to translate the Persian Evangelists into Latin: which he performed, and beg●n to print some few ch●●ters in Persian and Latin at London; whither ●e was called to be an helper in that great wo●k of the Biblia Polyglotta set out by that famous Pillar of learning and religion Dr Brian Walton, ●te L. Bishop of Chester. But Mr Wheelock lived only so long as to see a Specimen of the no●-●entioned Biblia, and not any entire part of it published.  
5. Here I must not omit, that, notwithstanding the eminency of his learning, and the great esteem he had among persons of excellent worth, he was of such an humble deportment, even to the meanest of those that addressed themselves unto him, that I think, without prejudice to any other, in this particular he was the Phoenix of his age.  
6. He died at London, being about 60 years of age, and lieth buried in Saint botolph's Church near Aldersgate.  
7. I o●ly add the grateful Testimony of learned Wase in the Preface to his exact Dictionary: Clariss. Dominus Wheelocus, Vir mihi totique Juventuti Cantabrigiensi cum honore memorandus, ut communis Doctor ac Pater; linguae Sax. idem ac Orientalium, imprimis vero Arabicae professor publicus.  
FINIS.