8. Now let that foul impudent Railer Weston Duacens. Praef. ad Lib. de triplici Hom. officio. go vomit forth what scurrilities he will, and accuse our Doctor of slowness, and of pretending Sickness. He thinks us all very dull, who held such a person in so high Veneration, and believed him to be sick, whom (alas!) we see dead. And yet, Weston himself, when he so inveighed against the Heads of our University, that, even for being Married, some of them he by name accusing of wickedness, could not find so much as one act to be reprehended in the whole life of this most Holy man.

9. But he was far off: what did they that stood at nearer distance? They all dearly lov'd the man, they lov'd his manners and integrity. And if perhaps his resolute severity and stiffness of mind, without favour and partiality, might be blamed in him; or if any thing else (but what could?) Verily that fault would sooner become a Virtue, than our Saint be made Vitious. No question, but he is in a blessed condition among the Holy Angels. As for us, who reverence the Memory of this best and wisest man, we shall not doubt to pronounce, Oxford will then be happy, when any equal and like to him shall succeed into his place. For we may have, whom their great Eloquence, infinite Reading, sublimity of Wit, gravity of Judgment, Virtue, Humanity, Candor, and all these shewed in excellent Monuments and Writings, may very much commend; Reynolds certainly, we shall not have.

In B. Mariae, Ox. Maii 25. 1607.

[From Mr. Isaac Walton.]

1. HIS Schoolmaster perswaded his Parents (who intended him for a Prentice) to continue him at School till he could find out some means, by perswading his rich Uncle, or some other charitable person, to ease them of a part of their care and charge; assuring them that their Son was so enriched with the Blessings of Nature and Grace, that God seemed to single him out as a special Instrument of his Glory. And the Good man (whose name I am sorry I am not able to recover) told them also, that he would double his diligence in instructing him, and would neither expect nor receive any other reward, than the content of so happy an employment.

2. His Parents and his Master laid a Foundation for his future happiness, by instilling into his Soul the Seeds of Piety, those conscientious Principles of loving and fearing God, a Belief that he knows the very secrets of our Souls, that he punisheth our Vices, and rewards our Innocence; that we should be free from Hypocrisie, and appear to man what we are to God, because first or last the crafty man is catch'd in his own snare. These seeds of Piety were so seasonably planted, and so continually watered with the dew of Gods blessed Spirit, as hath made Richard Hooker honour'd in this, and will continue him to be so to succeeding Generations.

An. 3. Eliz. John Hooker gave Bishop Jewell a Visit at Salisbury, and besought him for Charity sake to look favourably upon a poor Nephew of his, whom Nature had fitted for a Scholar, but the estate of his Parents was so narrow, that they were unable to give him the advantage of Learning; and that the Bishop would therefore become his Patron, and prevent him from being a Tradesman; for he was a Boy of remarkable hopes. The Bishop appointed, the Boy and his Schoolmaster should attend him about Easter next following; and then after some questions and observations of the Boy's Gravity and Behaviour, gave his Schoolmaster a reward, and an annual Pension to his Parents, promising also to take him into his Care.

4. An. 1567. About the 14th. year of his Age the Bishop commended Hooker to Dr. Cole President of C. C. Colledge, who provided for him both a Tutor (which was said to be John Reynolds) and a Clerks place; which though not a full maintenance, yet with the Contribution of his Uncle, and the continued Pension of his Patron the good Bishop, it gave him a comfortable subsistence. And in this condition he continued unto the 18th. year of his Age, still increasing in Learning, and Prudence, in Humility and Piety.

5. About this time of his Age he fell into a dangerous Sickness, which lasted two months; all which time his Mother having notice of it, did in her hourly Prayers as earnestly beg his life of God, as the Mother of St. Augustin did that he might become a true Christian; and their Prayers were both so heard as to be granted. Which Mr. Hooker would often mention with much joy, and as often pray, That he might never live to occasion any sorrow to his good Mother, whom he loved so dearly, that he would endeavour to be good, even as much for hers as for his own sake.

6. As soon as he was perfectly recovered from this Sickness, he took a Journey from Oxford to Exeter to satisfie and see his good Mother, and by the way visited the good Bishop. See a former Vol. After his return to his Colledge, came sad news of the death of his Learned and Charitable Patron. But Dr. Cole raised his Spirits, and bad him go chearfully to his Studies, and assured him he should not want.

7. A little before his death Bishop Jewell meeting with Bishop Sandys (who had been his companion in exile) began a story of his Hooker, and in it gave such a Character of his Learning and manners, that though Bishop Sandys was educated in Cambridge, where he had obliged and had many Friends; yet his Resolution was, that his Son Edwin should be sent to Corpus Christi Colledge in Oxford, and by all means be Pupil to Mr. Hooker, though his Son Edwin was then almost of the same Age. For, said the Bishop, I will have a Tutor for my Son, that shall teach him Learning by Instruction, and Virtue by example. And doubtless, as to these two, a better choice could not be made. For by great industry added to his great Reason, He did not only know more, but what he knew, he knew better than other men. And such was his pious behaviour, that in four years he was but twice absent from the ChappelPrayers: and there he shewed an awful Reverence of that God which he worshipped. He was never known to be angry, or passionate, or extreme in any of his desires; never heard to repine or dispute with Providence, but by a quiet gentle submission bore the burthen of the day with patience. And when he took any liberty to be pleasant, his wit was never blemish'd with Scoffing, or the utterance of any conceit that bordered upon, or might beget a thought of looseness in his hearers.

8. In the 19th. year of his Age, Decemb, 24. 1573. he was chosen to be one of the 20 Scholars of the Foundation. And Feb. 23. 1576. his Grace was given him for Inceptor of Arts, Dr. Herbert Westphaling, a man of note for Learning, being then Vicechancellor. The Act following he was compleated Master, his Patron Doctor Cole being Vicechancellor that year, and his dear Friend Mr. Henry Savil of Merton Colledge, being then one of the Proctors: That Savil, which afterward founded two famous Lectures in the Mathematicks, and enriched the world with that laborious and chargeable Edition of St. Chrysostomes Works in Greek.

9. And in this year 1577. Mr. Hooker was chosen Fellow of the Colledge, happy also in being the Contemporary and Friend of Dr. John Reynolds, and of Dr. Spencer: both which were after successively made Presidents of that Colledge, men of great Learning and Merit, and famous in their Generations. Happy he was also in the Pupillage and Friendship of his Edwin Sandys (after, Sir Edwin Sandys, known by his Speculum Europae) and of George Cranmer (the Great Archbishop and Martyr's grand Nephew, a Gentleman of Singular hopes:) both whom, a desire to know the Affairs, and Manners, and Learning of other Nations, that they might thereby become the more serviceable unto their own, made to put off their Gowns, and leave Mr. Hooker to his Colledge and private Studies.

10. Thus he continued his Studies in all quietness for the space of three or more years; about which time he entred into Sacred Orders, and was made Deacon and Priest, and not long after in obedience to the Colledge Statutes being to Preach at St. Pauls Cross, London, to London he came to the Shunamites house (a house so called, for that beside the Stipend paid the Preacher, there is provision made for his Lodging and Diet two days before and one day after his Sermon:) but to this house Mr. Hooker came so wet, so weary, and weather-beaten, that hardly with much diligent attendance was he enabled to perform the office of the day, which was in or about the year 1581.

11. An. 1584. Decemb. 9. he was presented by John Cheney Esquire, to a Country Parsonage, which was Draiton-Beauchamp in Buckinghamshire, not far from Alesbury, and in the Diocess of Lincoln, where he continued about a year; in which time his two Pupils, Edwin Sandys, and George Cranmer, were returned from Travel, and took a Journey to see their Tutor; where they found him with a Book in his hand, (it was the Odes of Horace) being then tending his small allotment of Sheep in a common field: which he told his Pupils he was forced to do, for that his Servant was gone home to dine, and assist his Wife to do some necessary houshold business. When his Servant returned and released him, his two Pupils attended him to his house, where their best entertainment was his Company; and having stayed till next morning (which was time enough to discover and pity their Tutors condition) and having given him as much present comfort as they were able, they return to London. Then Edwin Sandys acquaints his Father of his Tutors sad case, and solicits for his removal to some Benefice that might give him a more comfortable subsistence.

12. Not long after Mr. Alvie, Master of the Temple died (a man of strict Life, of great Learning, and of so venerable behaviour, as to gain such a degree of Love and Reverence from all men, that he was generally known by the name of Father Alvie) into whose place Bishop Sandys commended Hooker with such effectual earnestness, and so many testimonies of his worth, that he was sent for to London, and there the place was proposed to him by the Bishop, as a greater freedom from cares, and the advantage of a better Society, a more liberal Pension than his Country Parsonage did afford him: and at last notwithstanding his averseness he was perswaded to accept of the Bishops proposal, being by Patent for life made Master of the Temple, March, An. 1585.

13. Mr. Walter Travers was Lecturer at the Temple for the Evening Sermons, a man of competent Learning, of a winning Behaviour, and a blameless Life, but ordained by the Presbytery in Antwerp. He had hope to set up the Geneva Government in the Temple, and to that end used his endeavours to be Master of it; and his being disappointed by Mr. Hookers admittance, proved some occasion of opposition betwixt them in their Sermons. Many of which were concerning the Doctrine, Discipline, and Ceremonies of this Church; insomuch that, as one hath pleasantly express'd it, The Forenoon Sermon spake Canterbury, and the Afternoon Geneva.

14. The oppositions became so visible, and the Consequences so dangerous (especially in that place) that the prudent Archbishop put a stop to Mr. Travers his Preaching, by a positive Prohibition. Mr. Travers appeals, and Petitions her Majesty and the Privy Council to have it recalled, but in vain: For the Queen had entrusted the Archbishop with all Church Power. Hereupon the party, intending the Archbishop's and Mr. Hooker's disgrace, privately printed the Petition, and scattered it abroad. Now is Mr. Hooker forced to appear publickly, and print an Answer to it: which he did, and it proved a full Answer, writ with such clear Reason, and so much Meekness, and Majesty of Style, that the Bishop began to wonder at the man, to rejoyce that he had appeared in his cause, and disdained not earnestly to beg his friendship, even a familiar friendship with a man of so much quiet Learning and Humility.

15. The Foundation of his eight Books of Ecclesiastical Politie was laid in the Temple, but he found it no fit place to finish what he had there designed, and therefore solicited the Archbishop for a remove, saying, When I lost the freedom of my Cell, which was my Colledge, yet I found some degree of it in my quiet Country Parsonage. But I am weary of the noise and oppositions of this place. And indeed God and Nature did not intend me for Contentions, but for Study and Quietness. I have begun a work in which I intend the Justification of our Laws of Church Government, and I shall never be able to finish it, but where I may study and pray for Gods Blessings upon my Endeavours, and keep my self in peace and privacy, and behold Gods Blessing spring out of my Mother Earth, and eat my own Bread without oppositions; and therefore, if your Grace can judge me worthy such a favour, let me beg it, that I may perfect what I have begun.

16. About this time the Rectory of Boscum in the Diocess of Sarum, and six miles from that City became void: to which Mr. Hooker was presented (in the vacancy of that Bishoprick) by the Archbishop of Canterbury in the year 1591. And in the same year, July 17. was he made a minor Prebend of Salisbury, the Corps to it being Neather Havin, about ten miles from that City; which Prebend being of no great value, was intended chiefly to make him capable of a better preserment in that Church. In this Boscum he continued till he had finished four of his eight proposed Books, and these were publish'd with that large and affectionate Preface, An. 1594.

17. The Parsonage of Bishops-Borne in Kent three miles from Canterbury, is that Archbishops Gift. In the latter end of the year 1594. Dr. William Redman, the Rector of it, was made Bishop of Norwich, by which means the power of presenting to it was pro ea vice in the Queen. And she presented Hooker, whom she loved well, to this good living of Borne, July 7.1595. In which Living he continued till his death, without any addition of dignity or profit. His fifth Book of Eccl. Politie was Printed first by it self (being larger than his first four) and dedicated to his Patron Archbishop Whitgift, An. 1597.

18. These Books were read with an admiration of their excellency in this, and their just same spread it self into Forein Nations. Dr. Stapleton having read the first four, boasted to Pope Clement VIII. That a poor obscure English Priest had writ four such Books of Laws and Church Politie, and in a style that express'd so grave and such humble Majesty, with clear demonstration of reason, that in all his reading he had not met with any that exceeded him. And the Pope having heard the Doctor interpret to him a part in Latin, said, There is no Learning this man hath not search'd into; nothing too hard for his understanding: this man indeed deserves the name of an Author: Books will get reverence by Age; for there is in them such seeds of eternity, that if the rest be like this, they shall last till the last fire shall consume all Books.

19. King James also, at his first coming into this Kingdom, enquiring of the Archbishop Whitgift for his friend Mr. Hooker, and being answered that he died a year before Queen Elizabeth, who received the sad news of his death with very much sorrow, replyed, And I receive it with no less, that I shall want the desired happiness of seeing and discoursing with that man, from whose Books I have had so much satisfaction: Adding, Though many other write well, yet in the next Age they will be forgotten: but doubtless there is in every page of Hooker's Book the Picture of a Divine Soul; such Pictures of Truth and Reason, and drawn in so sacred colours, that they shall never Fade, but give an immortal memory to the Author. Nor did that learned King use to mention him without the title of Learned, or Judicious Hooker: nor his Son, our late King Charles the First, without the same reverence; enjoyning his Son our present Sovereign to be studious in Mr. Hookers Books. What the Learned Cambden, (where he noteth the death of Hooker, and Commends his Modesty and other Virtues) wished, That for the honour of this, and benefit of other Nations, those Books were turned into the Universal Language, is now accomplish'd by the happy Pen of Dr. John Earl Lord Bishop of Salisbury, a man like unto Hooker, for his innocent Wisdom, sanctified Learning, and Pious, Peaceable, Primitive Temper.

20. Mr. Hooker's Parsonage of Borne being near the common Road that leads from Canterbury to Dover, many mov'd by the Fame of his Learning and Holiness turn'd out of their way, and others (Scholars especially) came purposely to see the man: A man in poor Cloaths, his Loyns usually girt in a course Gown or Canonical Coat, of a mean Stature, and Stooping; and yet more lowly in the thoughts of his Soul (so mild and humble that his poor Parish-Clerk and he did never talk, but with both their Hats on, or both off at the same time) short-sighted; his Body worn out, not with Age, but Study and Mortification: his Face full of Heat-Pimples, begot by his unactive and Sedentary Life. Here he gave a Holy Valediction to all the pleasures and allurements of Earth, possessing his Soul in a Virtuous Quietness, in Constant Study, Devout Prayers, and heavenly Meditations.

21. His use was to Preach once every Sunday, and hear his Curate to Catechise after the second Lesson in the Evening Prayer: his Sermons were neither long nor earnest, but uttered with a Grave Zeal, and an Humble Voice: his eyes always fix'd on one place to prevent his imagination from wandring; insomuch that he seem'd to study as he spake. The design of his Sermons, (as indeed of all his Discourses) was to shew reasons of what he spake; and with these Reasons such a kind of Rhetorick, as did rather convince and perswade, than frighten men into Piety; studying not so much for matter (which he never wanted) as for apt illustrations to inform and teach his unlearned hearers by familiar Examples, and then make them better by convincing Applications.

22. He never failed, the Sunday before every Ember-week to give notice of it to his Parishioners, perswading them both to Fast, and then to double their Devotions for a Learned and Pious Clergy; but especially the last: saying often, That the Life of a Pious Clergy-man was Visible Rhetorick, and so convincing, the most Godless men (though they would not deny themselves the enjoyment of their present Lusts) did yet secretly with themselves like those of the strictest Lives. He did usually every Ember-week take from the Parish-Clerk the Key of the Church-Door, and lock himself up there many hours, and the like, most Fridays and other days of Fasting.

23. He would by no means omit the customary time of Procession, perswading all both Rich and Poor, (if they desired the preservation of Love, and their Parish-Rights and Liberties, to accompany him in his perambulation: and most did so. In which he would usually express more pleasant discourse than at other times, and drop some good Sentences and Observations to be remembred by the Young people; still enclining all his Parishioners to mutual Love and Kindness.

24. He would often Visit the Sick unsent for, supposing that the fittest time to discover those errors, to which health and prosperity had blinded them: and having by pious Reasons and Prayers moulded them into holy Resolutions for the time to come, he would incline them to Confession, and bewailing of their Sins, with purpose to forsake them, and then to receive the Communion, both as a strengthening of those Holy Resolutions, and as a Seal betwixt God and them of his Mercies to their Souls, in case that present Sickness did put a period to their lives.

25. He was diligent to prevent Law-Suits, still urging his Neighbours to bear with each others infirmities, and live in love, Because he that lives in Love lives in God, for God is Love. And to maintain this holy fire of Love constantly burning on the Altar of a pure heart, his advice was to watch and pray, and always keep themselves fit to receive the Communion, and then to receive it often; for it was both a confirming and increasing of their Graces. This was his advice: And at his entrance or departure out of any house, he would usually speak to the whole Family and bless them. And though in this declining Age such examples are almost incredible, yet let his memory be blest with this true Recordation: Because he that praises Mr. Hooker, praises God, who hath given such gifts unto men. And let this invite posterity to imitate his Virtues.

26. In the year 1600. and of his age 46. he fell into a sickness, occasion'd by a cold taken in his passage betwixt London and Gravesend. But a submission to his will that makes the Sick mans bed easie by giving rest to his soul, made his very Languishment comfortable. And yet all this time he was solicitous in his Study, and said often to Dr. Saravia, Prebend of Canterbury (with whom he entred into a sacred Friendship at his coming to Borne, who saw him daily, and was the chief comfort of his life;) That he did not beg a long life of God for any other reason, but to live to finish his three remaining Books of Politie; and then, Lord let thy Servant depart in Peace, said he. And God heard his Prayers, although he denied the Church the benefit of them, as Completed by himself: and 'tis thought he hastned his own death, by hastning to give life to his Books. But this is certain, that the nearer he was to his Death, the more he grew in Humility, in holy Thoughts, and Resolutions.

27. In this time of his Sickness, and not many days before his death, his house was rob'd; of which he having notice, his question was, Are my Books and written Papers safe? And being answered that they were, his reply was, Then it matters not, for no other loss can trouble me.

28. About one day or two before his death, Dr. Saravia, who knew the very secrets of his soul (for they were supposed to be Confessors to each other) came to him, and after a Conference of the benefit of the Churches Absolution, it was resolved that the Doctor should give him both that, and the Sacrament the day following. Which being performed, he returned early the next morning, and found Mr. Hooker deep in Contemplation, and not inclinable to discourse; which gave the Doctor occasion to require his present thoughts; to which he replyed, That he was meditating of the number and nature of Angels, and their blessed Obedience and Order, without which peace could not be in Heaven. And oh! that it might be so on earth. And a little afterward, Lord shew Mercy to me, and let not death be terrible, and then take thine own time, I submit to it: let thy will be done. And after a little slumber, Good Doctor (said he) God hath heard my daily Petitions, for I am at peace with all men, and he is at peace with me: And from that blessed assurance, I feel that inward joy, which this world can neither give, nor take from me. Then after a short conflict betwixt Nature and Death, a quiet sigh put a period to his last breath, and he fell asleep.

29. He died in the 46. or 47. year of his Age, Mr. Cambden who hath the year 1599. and the Author of that Inscription on his Monument at Borne, who hath 1603. are both mistaken. For it is attested under the hand of Mr. Somner, Canterbury-Register, that Richard Hooker's Will bears date Octob. 26. 1600. and that it was prov'd Decemb. 3. following. He left four Daughters, and to each of them 100. l. his Wife Jone his sole Executrix, and by his Inventory his Estate (a great part of it being in Books) came to 1092 l. 9 s. 2 d. His youngest Daughter Margaret was Married unto Ezekiel Clark a Minister neer Cant. who left a Son Ezekiel, at this time Rector of Waldron in Sussex.

30. [Dr. Henry King Bishop of Chichester in a Letter to Mr. Walton.] My Father's knowledge of Mr. Hooker was occasion'd by the Learned Dr. John Spencer, who after the Death of Mr. Hooker, was so careful to preserve his three last Books of Ecclesiastical Politie, and other Writings, that he procur'd Henry Juckson then of C. C. Colledge to transcribe for him all Mr. Hookers remaining written Papers, many of which were imperfect; for his Study had been rifled or worse used by Mr. Clark, and another of Principles too like his. These Papers were endeavoured to be completed by his dear Friend Dr. Spencer, who bequeathed them as a precious Legacy to my Father, then Bishop of London. After whose death they rested in my hand, till Doctor Abbot then Archbishop of Canterbury Commanded them out of my Custody. They remained, as I have heard, in the Bishops Library till the Martyrdom of Archbishop Laud, and were then by the Brethren of that Faction given with the Library to Hugh Peters: and although they could hardly fall into a fouler hand, yet there wanted not other endeavours to corrupt them and make them speak that Language for which the Faction then fought: which was, to subject the Sovereign power to the people. Thus for Bishop King.

31. Soon after Mr. Hooker's death, Archbishop Whitgift sent for Mrs. Hooker to Lambeth, and examined her concerning those three last Books: to whom she confessed, That Mr. Clark, and another Minister near Canterbury came to her, and desired that they might go into her Husbands Study, and

[From the Latin Life before his Works.]

1. NAzianzen saith, Let a Minister teach by his Conversation also, or not teach at all: Herein shewing his Zeal, rather than his Judgment: for Christ would have the Doctrine even of the impure Pharisees, sitting in Moses Chair, to be heard, and his Apostle rejoyceth that Christ is preached howsoever, though out of Envy and Contention. Nevertheless, it is true, the Doctrine is more accepted, when it is delivered by a Clean hand; and when the Will of God is declared to us by one that does it. The more worthy is the holy and learned Whitaker to be set forth, whose great care was, Vertere verba in opera, as St. Jerom speaks, to be an example of what he taught; and who deserved a better Pen (an Homer to describe this Achilles) than mine: yet shall I endeavour to recompence the want of Oratory, by my diligence and Fidelity in the Narration.

2. He was born in Lancashire at Holme, in the Parish of Burnbey, a mountainous place, in such an Air as is fittest to cherish a purer Wit: his Parents both of good Families and noble Alliance. Having passed his Childhood under their Tuition, and learned the first Rudiments of Grammar under his Master Hartgrave (to whom afterward he was a good Benefactor:) at 13 years of age, his Uncle Dr. Nowell, the famous Dean of Pauls, for his better Education, sent for his Nephew into his house, and kept him in Pauls-School till he was fit for the University.

3. At the age of 18. the good Dean sent him to Cambridge, and placed him in Trinity-Colledge under the care of Mr West; where for his proficiency in Manners, and Learning, he was chosen first Scholar, then Fellow of the House, and performed both his private and publick Exercises with such commendation, that in due time he was honoured with his Degrees in the Arts; and having with much applause attained them, gave not himself to ease, as many do, but followed his Studies with greater vehemence.

4. His first-fruits he gratefully paid to his Reverend Uncle, in the Translation of his Elegant Latin Catechism into as Elegant Greek. And further to shew his Affection to the Church of England, he rendred the Liturgy, or Divine Service into pure Latin. Lastly he adventured upon a greater work, and excellently translated into the Latin Tongue that learned Defence of Bishop Jewell against Harding, wherein 27 Theses are maintained out of the Monuments of Fathers and Councils within the first 600 years after Christ: A work of great use to the Church, and promising that the Translator would in time be Author of the like.

5. After he had performed a solemn exercise at the Commencement, being upon a dissention between the Proctors chosen to be Father of the Artists (whose office is to praise, encourage, and exhort the proceeders, and to handle some Questions in Philosophy) and had thereby filled the University with admiration of his Learning and Eloquence, he applyed himself mainly to the study of Divinity, and to the reading of Holy Scripture; to which he ever attributed all Authority in matters of Faith, and Controversies of Religion. Yet he dilihently turned over the Writings of Modern Divines: and such was his indefatigable pains, within few years he read over all the sound and most useful Books of the Fathers, both Greek and Latin; setting himself a daily task, which if he were interrupted, and lost any time in his daily business by visit of friends, his manner was to make it up by his night watchings. But by this custom, though he gained knowledge, he impaired his health; neither the firm constitution of his Body, nor his temperate diet, nor the Recreation he sometimes used, by Shooting, by Angling, and (when the season of the year would not suffer these) by the Philosophical Game at Chess: I say, none of these could make amends for the injuries his health received from his immoderate Studies.

6. However, he pleased himself in the daily increase of his large stock of Learning, and thereby was most dear to the Learned Master of his Colledge, Doctor Whitgift; not only intimate with him, whilst he continued Master, but after he was advanced to the highest place of the Church, still accounted as a most beloved Son. Together with daily and nightly reading of good Authors, he was much and frequent in all exercises, Commonplacing in the Chappel, CountryPreaching, and Domestick Catechising in the same Colledge: to which adde his three solemn Lectures for his degree of Batchelor in Divinity. In all which I know not whether he shewed himself a more learned Divine, or more pious Christian.

7. Those were but Specimens and Documents of his future excellencies. For at the publick Commencement, An. 1578. at St. Maries he preached the Latin-Sermon, Learned, Pious, Eloquent. Then he handled two Theological Questions, and answer'd in the Schools solidly and subtilly; to the satisfaction of all. And yet they were not satisfied, for our Whitaker was called again into the Battel, to defend certain Theses (which he did with great sufficiency) against the opposition and assault of the Heads of Colledges, and other the most able Doctors of the University.

8. This Victory being obtained, he rested himself a while in his Colledge; yet, so as to prepare himself for more work. And that was cut out for him, when by the remove of Doctor Chaderton, from the Doctoral to the Episcopal Chair, our Whitaker was chosen Regius Professor in his room; the Electors passing by his Seniors, and preferring him, for his great reading and judgment surpassing his years and standing. Although this high dignity was conferred on him, not by his own ambitious suit, but for his merit and worth, and the good trial the University had of him; yet his friends were a little doubtful how he would bear the Envy and burden of the place: comforting themselves nevertheless, and hoping good success, as being assured by his Sobriety and Prudence, in such years, together with his industry in Studies, and his unfeigned Piety and Devotion.

9. Nor were they deceived in their hopes; for no sooner had he settled him to his Lectures, but they found all things in him, requisite in an excellent Divine, and a most exercised Professor; various Reading, sharp Judgment, easie and pure Expression, sound and solid Doctrine: all these (which indeed are all commendable) shined forth in his first prelections. Whereupon, his Fame is spread through the University, and the Students flock unto him in greater Numbers, and attend with greater earnestness, and write his Dictates. His first endeavours were in the interpretation of the three first Chapters of St. Luke: next he ran over all the Epistle to the Galatians: then he attempted St. Pauls First to Timothy: whence he proposed many useful observations for young Divines: Lastly, he explained the Song of Solomon. And so laying aside the Interpretations of Scriptures, An. 1585. Feb. 17. he began to bend his Forces to the Controversies of Religion between us and the Papists.

10. But before this An. 1581. in his answer to Campians 10 Reasons, he disarmed that vaunting Adversary; and after him, replyed to Duraeus (who engaged in the quarrel on Campians behalf) and stopped the mouth of that railer, using such civility and wit, and evidence in these two Books, that himself was thereby much honoured, and the Cause of our Church very much advantaged. His next opposite was Saunders, a notable English Papist, against whose demonstrations of Antichrist, our Whitaker published an Answer, with an Appendix, his Thesis de Antichristo, when he commenced Doctor. This Answer to Saunders gave him another Adversary, Reynolds, whose aspersions he vouchsafed to wipe off, and then set upon a more noble Champion Bellarmine.

11. And first he began with the Controversie de Scripturis, which he proposed Methodically, and treated on accurately in six questions, published by himself, An. 1588. So proceeding orderly, he went through the Controversies. De Ecclesia, De conciliis, De Romano pontifice, De Ministris, De Mortuis, De Ecclesia Triumphante, De Sacramentis, De Baptismo, De Eucharistia. All which as he had handled with the Admiration and Applause of his Auditors, so they wished he had time to revise them, and set them forth in Print. But the Professor being carried on with a desire of confuting Bellarmine throughout, laid by his former Lectures, expecting at length some convenient time to publish them: which God was not pleased to afford him, but took him away (too soon for us) from fighting his Battels in defence of truth, to receive the Crown he had ready for him. In all those Controversies, his assiduity and diligence was very great, reading twice or thrice every week in Term time, except hindred by some weighty business, which seldom happened, and was carefully avoided: He dealt with his Adversary civily, and ingenuously, not disparaging, but making the best of his Arguments, finding out and shewing the Knot, and then dexterously untying it: such was his Candor, that Bellarmine himself is said to have gratefully acknowledged it.

12. Nevertheless, Stapleton (Bellarmine being silent) finding a sore place of his (lib. 9. Princip. Doct.) gently touched by Whitaker, kicks at him, and casts upon him whole loads of Reproaches and Slanders, without wit or modesty, in a Book written (as he pretends) at his spare hours, in answer to the third Question of the second Controversie. To which Whitaker speedily prepares a Reply, somewhat more sharp than his manner was (for some Diseases must have strong Medicines) and so fully and clearly refutes all his Reasons and Reproaches, that the Lovain Doctor had no more spare hours, not play days, to write any more against Whitaker: neither are those mad and unsavory words, (Doctor indocte, disputator absurde, professor asinine, Magister mendax, &c) any more heard, touching the most perfect and most Modest Divine of our Age.

13. It is to be wished, that the rest of Dr. Whitakers Writings may come to light: namely, several Sermons ad clerum, preached in the beginning of every year: Brief determinations of Theological Questions in the Schools, very many, and written with his own hand: Fuller and more exact determinations of questions at the Commencement, of the same number with his Latin Sermons: a Book against Stapleton, De originali peccato, written fair and prepared for the Press: The loss of these we may impute to his Immature Death. For by a winter Journey to London, and immoderate watching, he contracted a Disease, whereof he died peaceably, breathing out his Spirit sweetly as an infant, and saying, He desired to live no longer, unless for Gods Honour and the Churches service. He was honourably buried in his Colledge, (having been Regius Professor An. 16. Head of St. Johns, An. 9.) Decemb. 1595. AEt. 47.

[From Dr. Peter Smith.]

1. THere is no way more expedite of instruction to good life (as Polybius wisely observeth) than by the knowledge of things past, and of the noble acts of famous Worthies: their Histories are our Documents, and their honours our incitements; whereas Fame contemned brings contempt of Virtue. We are not easily moved with Precepts; Examples are more powerful. Wherefore I have adventured briefly to sum up a few remarkable passages of the Life and Death of the Laborious and Learned Dr. Willet, whose worth in the full Latitude cannot easily be expressed, and my guide herein shall be either certain knowledge or most credible relation.

2. It was ever esteemed no mean blessing to be well descended; and though thy Fathers goodness shall avail thee little, if thou beest not good, yet it availeth much to make thee good. Such a good Father had this worthy man, by name Mr. Thomas Willet a grave Divine, who in his younger time was Sub-Almoner unto that Reverend Prelate Dr. Cox Eleemosynary and Schoolmaster unto Edward VI. our Englands young Josiah of most blessed memory: After whose death, Dr. Cox being in Exile during the Reign of Queen Mary, this Mr. Willet was not only deprived of his Service, but enforced for his Conscience to forsake his first Promotion in the Church of Windsor, and to betake himself to the House of a truly noble Gentleman, who was a faithful Obadiah, and hid him in those days of persecution. But when Dr. Cox, by Queen Elizabeth, was advanced to the Bishoprick of Ely, his antient Chaplain then repairs unto him, is lovingly embraced and preferred to a Prebend in his Church: And afterward, when a Messenger told the good Bishop the Parson of Barley in Hartfordshire was dead, the Bishop replied He is not dead. And when the party avowed he was dead, the Bishop again replies, I tell you the Parson of Barley is not dead, for there he sits, pointing at Mr. Willet, who was then sitting at the Table.

3. The Rectory being thus added to his other means, did now enable him to do works of Charity: and as he had freely received, so he freely gave. He remembred that he had been the Dispenser of a Princes Alms, and still retained a magnificent mind that way. His Wife was as nobly minded, and as free. In her elder years, when her Children were disposed of in the world, her manner was to call her poor Neighbours in, and feeding them to say, Now again have I my Children about me. Thus they laid up blessings for their seed, were preserved 〈2 pages missing〉 upon an unexpected accident befalling a Proctor of their Colledge, undertook his Office at the Commencement, and being (as Thucydides saith of Themistocles) 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 very dexterous and ready to perform any thing well upon the sudden, his Orations were such as gained the approbation and applause, if not the admiration of all his Auditors, both their own and strangers, who knew the straits of time wherein he was confined.

7. After he had spent 13 years in that University, his Father now grown old resigned his Prebend in the Church of Ely, which by the Favour of Queen Elizabeth (sede vacante) was conferr'd upon him. Hereupon he left his Fellowship, and betook himself to the Society of a Wife, of the Kindred of old Doctor Goad, Provost of Kings Colledge. In this estate God bless'd him with a numerous Issue.

8. His manner was to arise early in the morning, and to get half way on his Journey before others could get out; he came down at the hour of Prayer, taking his Family with him to Church (after he was preferred to the Rectory of Barley, upon the death of his Father) there Service was publickly read, either by himself or his Curate, to the great comfort of his Parishioners, before they went out to their daily Labours. Prayers being ended, he returns unto his task again until near dinner time: then he would recreate himself a while, either playing upon a little Organ, or sporting with his young Children; and sometimes he would use cleaving of Wood for exercise of his Body: At his Table he was always pleasant to his Company, telling some pretty Apothegme or Facete Tale, and seasoning it with some profitable Application. After dinner his custom was to refresh himself a little, sometime sitting in Discourse, sometime walking abroad, and now and then taking some view of his Husbandry: after which straightway to his better employments again till supper time: so that commonly (without extraordinary avocations) he spent no less than eight hours a day in his Study.

9. By which long continued course he had read the Fathers, Councils, Ecclesiastical Histories, &c. and published Books to the number of 33 (besides nine more unprinted:) He hath much variety of matter in his larger sixfold Commentaries, where he hath collected, and judicially disposed those things which you have 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 scatteringly, in many several Books, and saving the Readers cost and pains, hath molded up together the choicest flour of Commentaries old and new, that appear upon those parts of the Scripture: but his Synopsis Papismi carrieth away the prize before all other Writings, wherewith Dr. Willet hath adorned our Church; being now the fifth time (and that by special Commendation from his Royal Majesty) published. Justly is he numbred by Bishop Hall (sometime his Collegue in the Service of Prince Henry) among those Worthies of the Church of England, to whom he gives this Elogy. Stupor mundi clerus Britannicus.

10. Amidst all his pains of Writing and his other Studies, he never omitted his usual exercise of Preaching, In his younger time he read the Lecture for three years together in the Cathedral Church of Ely; for one year in St. Pauls: in both with singular Approbation of a most frequent Auditory. Sometimes he preached in Cambridge (both Ad Clerum, and Ad Populum) discovering himself to be the only man, Quem rus non infuscavit, whom the Country had not stained: and therefore at his last Degree was chosen to answer in the Divinity Act.

11. This being over, he returns to his people again, daily teaching them and instructing them in a plain Familiar way; applying himself to their capacity: and though he knew how to turn his tongue to a Courtiers ear, yet he more affected the simplicity of plain Preaching. And always in denuntiation of Judgments he would put on the Bowels of Compassion, and the spirit of Meekness; sugaring every bitter Pill (like a wise Physician) that it might go down the more pleasantly: neither were his labours in vain, enjoying such a people as received his Instructions with delight. For there was a sweet harmony between the Life and Doctrine of this Reverend man, whether we look upon him as at home, or as abroad with others.

12. It was my happiness to make aboad under his roof: his House was a little model of a Church, and House of God: here morning and evening Sacrifices were offered unto God daily: his Children after supper read some part of Holy Scripture, and he required of every one present, that they should remember some one Sentence or other; and afterward he himself, as he thought convenient, would rehearse the same again; adding some exposition, and now and then some Application to them. Together with these private exercises of Piety, no man more religiously observed the Publick Congregations than he did, continually calling upon his houshold to follow him to Gods Holy House, where especially he is to be worshipped. Besides his endeavour was, to order his Family like a little Common-wealth: He had his Laws and Ordinances set up in Tables, directing his Family in their several Offices, and Duties both Oeconomical and Moral; and in all these things, so much as might become his place, he made himself an exact pattern and example to them all.

13. It may be some searching eye may hap to spy out one trained up under his good Discipline, who yet peradventure groweth not after the seed first sowen in him. It is a blessed gift of God to have all good Children, but every man, nay every good man cannot enjoy it. St. Austin saith well, Though I keep a watchful Discipline over my house, yet am I but a man, and they are men that live under me; neiter dare I arrogate to my self, that my House should be better than the Ark of Noah, where yet amongst but eight persons, there was one Reprobate found; or better than the house of Abraham, or Isaac, or Jacob; or better than the Family of Christ our Lord, where was one Judas; or lastly, better than Heaven, when the Angels fell. Truly when I call to mind his many blessings of his Children I may use the words spoken to the Mother of St. Austin, a little varied, Fieri non potest, ut Filius istarum benedictionum pereat.

14. As for his Charity to others, he entertained two of his nearest allies, being fallen into some want, at his own Table many years, and maintained for the most part a Son of either of them at the University. It was usnal and annual with him, to give a dole of Bread unto the poor on the Coronation day, and on the Powder Treason. At Christmas he gave Corn to some of the poor of his Parish, to others mony, to others, yea to all the rest of his Neighbours liberal and loving entertainment. In the time of Harvest, when the Fields were crowned with Gods Blessings, he would scatter of his heaps with a full hand, and a chearful heart among the Gleaners, who rejoyced at his coming into the Field. If he set any one to work, no Master paid more freely; nor more speedily than he: if the poor bought Corn of him (as they did often) they were sure ro gain both in price and Measure: if he bought any thing of them, he would give them more than they demanded; and his substance increased with his bounty.

15. Had any of his Neighbours suits and troubles abroad, he was their Counsellor, whom they always, even the meanest found easie of access ( 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 ) and as friendly to be spoken with: Had they need of the assistance of some great persons, he would intercede for them, either personally, or by Letters: Had they Jars and janglings among themselves, he would call both parties, and handle them so with mild and courteous speeches, that he would soon compose their differences. And such was his Humility, that he would condescend to any office for their good: himself would sometimes write their Bills amd Bonds, and other instruments, to save them expences. And such things being ended, he would return with great alacrity to his higher Contemplations. Lastly for the Town of Barley, where he lived, being not able to do what his heart desired, he gave out of a little Tenement, which he bought, twenty shillings per an. to the poor for ever; and perswaded some other his richer Friends to a greater liberality to this same Town. He was indeed a powerful perswader to works of Piety, but in none more than in soliciting that old Gentleman Mr. Sutton to that Heroick work of his in the erecting of his Hospital; whom he earnestly desired, not to be like that Antigonus, sirnamed ( 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 ) the future giver, but to do something in his life. And doubtless, he during life projected that, which after death was honourably effected.

16. He studied chiefly to do good unto poor Ministers, not only by his private bounty, but he prevailed with the Dean and his fellow Prebendaries of Ely to grant considerable Augmentations for three poor Vicars out of the Impropriations belonging to that Church: and he induced old Mr. Castell to yield out of his Impropriation of Tadlow ten pounds per an. to the better maintenance of the Vicar of that Town. Never may they want their due honour with men, and reward with God, who religiously take care to cherish and continue these good works so happily begun.

17. The exercise of Hospitality was even hereditary to him from his Parents. This Abraham so loved, nay he loved still, saith Chrysologus, That he would scarce think himself happy in Heav'n if he were depriv'd of the use of it, if he may not have Lazarus lie in his bosome: And Synesius saith, By being harborous he entertained God himself. So this liberal and godly man (whose doors were open to any worthy of entertainment) enjoyed the comfort of many happy Guests, some of them strangers, men of other Nations, who having heard the Fame of him in their own Countries, Travelling to see this Land, have in their way resorted to his house, as ambitious of his Acquaintance: But sometimes his goodness was abused; as once by a Jew entertained in his house, and seemingly converted, calling him Father, and pretending to desire Baptism; but when the time of Solemnity was at hand, the Jew vanished, and ran away without returning thanks to the Doctor for all the courtesies received. Another Impostor, a Roman Catholick, begged his Prayers and Instructions, and humbly desired upon Repentance to be admitted to the Holy Communion; but when the time came, this Guest appeared not, and was seen there no more. A third Intruder was a Separatist, who seemed a long time inclining, but at last sequestred himself from every exercise of Piety used in the Family; and, though he must be present at Grace for fear of losing his Dinner, would not so much as uncover his head: Which being observed by the Doctor, Grace being ended, he snatch'd his Hat from his head, and thrust him out, saying, He shall not lodge, or eat, or drink with me, that will not give God thanks with me.

18. It happened about the end of Michaelmas Term, An. 1621. some occasions having called him up to London, in the midst of his way homeward, his Horse stumbling, both Horse and Rider fell to the ground; in which fall his right Leg was broken: being lifted up and set upon his Horse again, he rode on a little to a Town called Hodsdon, where he turned into an Inn, and sent for a Bone-setter, by whom after his Leg was set, he was directed to keep his Bed ten days: unto which direction he willingly submitted, resolving to make that place his Study for the time: and I had almost said his Pulpit too, &c. Thus he continued all the ten days, when (December 4.) after the singing of Psal. 146. having occasion for some ease to stir himself a little, he suddenly fetch'd a deep groan, and fell into a Trance. His Wife presently cryed out for help, and presently some came in, and upon means used he began to rouse himself a little, and to look about: and then uttered these his ( 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 ) last words, wherein he breathed out his soul, Let me alone, I shall be well, Lord Jesu,—Next day his Body was conveyed by Coach to his Town of Barley, and on the third day there honourably interred. After the Funeral was over, I remember well, how the several Lecturers of Royston in their Courses, for a long time after, making some worthy Commemoration of their friend departed, bewailed the loss of him, and besprinkled his Ashes with their Tears before the People. Vixit annos 59.

[From Mr. John Featley.]

1. HIS right name was Fairclough, and by that name he was ordained, as his Letters of Orders witnessed. All the antient Deeds of the Family ran in the name of Fairclough, and his elder Brother so wrote his name; but evenin his days by the mistakes of people the word varied from Fairclough to Faircley, then to Fateley, and at length to Featley: which name he first owned in print of all our Family. He was extracted originally out of Lancashire, where many of the same House do to this day retain the Primitive name, and give the same Coat of Arms with us. The name at first rose from that Fair cliff where his Ancestors long since were seated: for in the Dialect of that Country a Cliff was antiently written Clough.

2. The Family of the Faircloughs in former times growing numerous, their Estate lessened by increase of their Issue; for the Land was given by parcels to their Children, and among those many slips from the first root, some were transplanted into other Countries. The good old Father of Dr. Featley was one whom providence removed, and placed in Oxfordshire. Daniel his second Son was born at Oatmoor, and being a studious and ingenious Child, he profited at School beyond expectation; insomuch as when he was but twelve years old, he gained no small credit and applause by the Latin and Greek Verses which he frequently, wittily, and elegantly composed.

3. His Father, entertaining an employment in Oxford, gained an opportunity to prefer his forward Son to be 〈2 pages missing〉 also gratified Dr. Featley with a Fellowship or Brothers place in the Savoy, whereof he was then Master. After this, the Archbishop gave him the Rectory of Alhallows Broadstreet; but by reason of the thickness of London Air, and the many inconveniences which he daily met with, his Grace yielded to an exchange of Broad-street for Acton, six miles from London, and in a pleasant healthful situation.

6. To pretermit his many Disputes with Fisher, and other Jesuits, his Cygnea Cantio, his handmaid to Devotion, and many more passages of his former life, and to hasten to his last times, in the year 1642. the soft and wanton Peace of our Nation, was soon turned into rough and bloody Wars, Jusque datum sceleri: at which time some Parliament Souldiers having first spoiled Acton Church, and the Doctors House, pursued him to Lambeth, where he then resided, and on the Lords Day (Feb. 19.) five of them rushed into the Church, where he was then to preach, even in the time of Divine Service, with Pistols and drawn Swords to murther him. But missing the Doctor (who had been advertised of the danger) in their fury they mortally wounded one of the Parish, and shot another dead, breathing out malice against this Reverend Person, and threatning to chop him as small as Herbs to the Pot, for suffering the Common-Prayer (which in high contempt they called Porrage) to be read in his Church.

7. In Lambeth Church he so scourged the Times (according to his Custom) that in July, 1643. three Mechanick Brownists there present exhibited against him no less than Seven Articles to the Committee of plundred Ministers. The Articles are extant in a Book intituled, The gentle Lash, together with the Doctors Answer. He began his Answer with this heavy complaint, Hoc uno die plus vixi quam oportuit. But he comforted himself with the example of Christ, the Prince of our Salvation, who was consecrated through Afflictions: And with that Apology of St. Cyprian, Nec mihi ignominiosum est pati à meis, quod passus est Christus; nec illis gloriosum facere, quod fecit Judas. In brief, the Articles were so false, scandalous and indigested, that the Doctor was acquitted, and the Compiler of them dismiss'd with sufficient disgrace.

8. When the Solemn League and Covenant, hatched in Scotland, was sent to the Assembly of Divines in England, for their concurrence, and proposed in the Synod, our Doctor (being one of the Members) in a grave and learned Speech, and with solid and judicious Arguments so strongly opposed it, that those who wanted Learning to Answer him, wanted not malice to ruine him. The Reader may peruse a Book intituled Sacra Nemesis, or, The Levit's Scourge, and there find not only this Speech printed at large, but others of great concernment; as also his sixteen Reasons for Episcopal Government, and many other things well worthy of his notice.

9. About the middle of September 1643. one of the Sectaries made Application to the Doctor under pretence of friendship, and privately informed him, as from the Lord Primate of Armagh at Oxford (from whence he pretended he was newly come) That the King was very much offended at his complying with the Assembly, &c. This pretended Messenger seemed to be grieved for the Doctor, and advised him to write a Letter back to his Grace and acquaint him with some passages of the Assembly, with his desire of his Majesties leave to continue his attendance there. Something of a Letter was written, committed to this trusty Messenger, intercepted, the Doctor charged for holding intelligence, and presently Voted both out of the Assembly, and out of his Estate and Liberty.

10. On September 30. a Warrant (mentioning no Crime) was brought from the Committee, to commit the poor Doctor, whom they so plundred that he had no more mony left him than one poor five shillings piece of Gold, which he bestowed on the Officer that conducted him to Prison: There skipped hastily into his Livings (those who had long gaped for them) While into Lambeth and Nye into Acton. Many sad months did our Doctor spend in Prison wanting his sweet Air, and the comfortable society of his Books and Friends, and indeed all things except a good Conscience, which might qualifie the bitterness of a tedious life.

11. In the height of these his sufferings, it happened, that a Papist sent a bold Challenge abroad, throwing dirt in the face of the Protestant Church. The Parliament recommended the answering of it to our Doctor, whom they knew to be well versed in the matters in question. Had they first restored him to his Liberty and Estate, this had been a just and noble encouragement. But he was a poor Israelite under the Egyptian Yoke, and must be content to abate the straw, yet make the brick: only they voted him the use of his Books, three of them at one time; and by this Vote, his Library was a while preserved, and himself diverted the irksomness of his sad Imprisonment. To work he went, and at length he finished and published his Answer to the Challenge, Aug. 1. 1644. in a Book intituled Roma Ruens.

12. Nor may I forget another Book, which he had perfected and published the same year against the Anabaptists, and other Sectaries, called, The Dipper Dipt. Whereat the Sectaries being enraged, and some others, threw upon him a foul and odious aspersion, That Dr. Featley was turn'd Papist. To vindicate himself, he publish'd his Manifesto, and therein saith, I have thought fit to make known to you all whom it may concern, that being chosen Provost of ChelseyColledge, I have under the Broad Seal of England, a Warrant to buy, have, and keep all manner of Popish Books; and that I never bought and kept any of them, but to the end and purpose, the betttr to inform my self to refute them, &c.

13. To which Vindication, in the same Manifesto, he adds this Challenge: whereas I am certainly informed that aivers Lecturers and Preachers in London and the Suburbs (who have entred upon the Labours of many worthy Divines, and reaped their Harvests) do in their Pulpits after a most insolent manner insult upon them, demanding, Where are they now that dare stand up in defence of Church-Hierarchy, or Book of Common-Prayer; or any way oppose or impugn the new intended Reformation, both in Doctrine and Discipline of the Church of England? I do here protest, that I do and will maintain by Disputation, or Writing, against any of them, these three Conclusions, viz.

[From Dr. Haywood.]

1, HIS natural parts were so eminent by Gods great blessing, as to out-strip many of his rank at School, when he was a Child; and being quickly removed from School to the University, from the University to the Inns of Court, he there grew so eminent, as to be called to the Bar betimes with much honour, daily increasing in repute, and renown, till he performed his publick Reading with great applause: nor could he have missed the degree of a Serjeant, had times been as favourable, as his Worth was great.

2. Though one of the youngest Sons of his Father, and by a second Wife; yet so highly he gained his Fathers good opinion by his constant dutifulfulness and his known ability and worth, that long after the Death of his Mother, his Father at his decease ordained him sole Executor, left him all his personal Estate, besides his proportion of Land, suitable to the rest of his Children. Which overplus bequeathed to him alone, he yet with such Charity and Tenderness imparted to his Brothers again, that of his meer voluntary goodness, he gave them (as I am informed) to the value of two thousand pound.

3. In his honest industry, God so blest him, that he grew to a fortune, such as scant any of his Family had the like: yet not to be charged (for ought I could ever hear) of ruining any Person or Family, or rising by the fall and impoverishing of others: but eminent for his faithful diligence, and honest trustiness, and wise secresie, and abundant sufficiency in his profession: so that great and eminent ones in the same profession, and some elder than he, have repaired to him for his opinion, and to be assisted with his Advice.

4. In all the time of his life and practice, never heard I of any, that could tax him of the least breach of trust, of any extortion, bribery, or injustice, or of being feed on both sides, or for deserting any cause, which he thought just, for want of his poor Clients purse-ability. Well might he say with Samuel, Whose Oxe, or whose Ass have I taken; or of whose hand have I received any bribe to blind mine eyes withal? Notable late instances might be given of this, if particulars of this nature were fit here to be mentioned.

5. His integrity so great, and his abilities so eminent, could not fail to have preferred him to a Seat of Judicature among the highest, had not the tempest of the Wars cover'd him with a cloud. Wherein yet he preferred his Conscience before all worldly ends; nor followed any side, because he thought it would prosper, nor forsake that side, when he saw it prospered not; but persevered as he had first engaged, and engaged not weakly, but fervently, actively, and courageously. And yet so prudently, that though he suffer'd imprisonment, and paid large Compositions, yet he scaped easier than some that were less active. So great was his Wisdom, and in such esteem was his worth had by the adverse party. I will not say, he was courted by some of them, to accept of preferment among them; but such things have been averred in my hearing; and to my knowledge his constancy was such, the world could not have wrought him to accept of promotion against his Conscience, for all that was offer'd to our Saviour upon the Mountain.

6. During the time of Wars and troubles, though he were far in years, yet he made no haste to marry: no, nor in times more quiet before the 〈2 pages missing〉 to fail him, and newer customs to creep in, which he fansied not: a devout receiver of the Blessed Sacrament, and a frequent Communicant in publick, when he might receive it in the beauty of Holiness, as he desired to see it. Seldom failed he, at three Solemn times of the year especially, to make one at the Commumunion, if he were in the Country.

10. To the suffering party of the Clergy, to those of his own perswasion, very loving, kind, respectful and bountiful. To none, of any sort as I know, uncivil, though in more special manner, he favoured and countenanced Divines of known Learning, Gravity, and Experience; not much respecting other, whom he thought time-serving, hypocritical, ignorant, raw, or scandalous.

11. A friend to peace he was, though his Profession rather thrived by strife: a willing reconciler and taker up of differences, where both parties would hear reason, rather than a prolonger of suits. A man, such as Moses would have chosen for a Judge, fearing God and hating covetousness: hating it not only in himself, but in others: yea, not caring, to my knowledge, to displease some of his very good friends, where he thought them too worldly inclined: Very bountiful he was to the poor himself, and would fain have had all of ability like him. Far from flattering, lying, and soothing up: Loving Truth, and delighted in them that loved it, as one rightly sensible of the great calamities, this Kingdom hath been involved in, through the licentious and unconscionable liberty of lying tongues.

12. Therefore was he honoured and respected far and near: scant a Nobleman or Gentleman in these parts, that made not much use of him, and frequently, as their occasions required, resorted to him: So that he was the eminent Beauty, Ornament, and shelter of this poor place wherein he liv'd, a staff to the poor, a Counsellor to the rich, a sanctuary to the oppressed, a terrour to the unconscionable, deceitful, and worldly minded; a comfort to those in need, and to such as for need desired his help.

13. Our hearts sorrow it was, that so soon in his bodily health he began to decline, having yet scant added three years to threescore; but to his joy in the end it proved, I doubt not. Near upon two years I have perceived him declining; when, as his outward man perished, so his inward man seemed to renew day by day. During which time he exercised his Piety, addressing himself to read Books of Religion; his justice paying every one his own. And the four Virtues of the Cross, Humility, Charity, Patience, and Constancy, appeared more and more to manifest themselves in him, the nearer he drew to his end.

14. Humility, for he was courteous to the meanest, ready to put off, and yield reverence to any as fast as any to him; nay, to prevent in courtesie, and to give place to some his inferiours. Charity, for he exceeded in bounty to the poor, witness his last charitable gift to this Parish, and divers pious Legacies in his Will to the value well nigh of a thousand pound: Witness his loving invitation of his poor Neighbours in his weakness at Christmass last; even when himself could not eat, yet it joyed him to walk by and see others eat and drink at his cost. And for an eminent proof of his Charity, but a little before he took his bed in his last sickness, he lent freely to one that had dealt falsly enough with him (and was likely for so doing to be utterly ruin'd by the fraud of another;) he lent I say to him notwithstanding a considerable summe of mony to preserve him from perishing. So notable was his Charity in returning good for evil.

15. It pleased God to enlarge his Patience by the manner of his last sickness, which, seizing at length on his Lungs, deprived him of the use of his Speech, for any length or continuance of speaking: during which time I never observed in him the least impatient carriage in word or deed, or any repining at the heavy hand of God upon him: but silently he submitted himself under the scourge, like him that said, I became dumb and opened not my mouth, for it was thy doing.

16. And lastly, for his Constancy, as he approved it in the course of his Life, so to the Death constant he was to the Religion he had been born and bred up in: an obedient Son of the Church of England, as he had ever professed himself to be, and suffered for it. Heartily he answered to all questions that were asked him about the profession of his Faith, willingly and readily submitted himself to Gods will for leaving the world, gladly forgave all that had offended him; and wherein he had offended any, professed himself willing to ask forgiveness, and to make restitution.

17. Being put in mind of the Sacrament, he would not for Reverence sake receive it in the Evening, but deferred it till the next morning, and then most piously and devoutly, like one that bowed the knees of his heart, when those of his body failed him, with eyes lifted up and hands bent to Heav'n, he received it: and when he heard after both kinds taken, Lord grant it may nourish you to eternal life, chearfully and audibly he said, Amen. After which, he dismissed us from longer praying by him, being desirous to be left for the present to his own private Devotions, and requested us to pray by him again in the afternoon, as if he had foreseen the certain time of his departure: and in the afternoon, according to his own appointment, at Prayer we continued by him till toward five in the evening. At which time, most meekly and silently, and like a Lamb he departed, and quietly slept in the Lord.

Ob. Apr. 1659.

[From Mr. John Gurgany.]

1. A Mersham in the County of Buckingham, ennobled hitherto only by the Honourable Family of the Russels, may now boast in the birth of this Learned man. Which happened on the tenth of November, 1603. And though his Parents were but of mean Extraction and Estate, yet of such noted Piety, and Honesty, as gained them love and respect from the best of that place.

2. Whence this their eldest Son, about the 15th. year of their pious Education of him, was chosen by the worthy Dr. Crook to wait upon Sir William Drake, (and soon after on Sir Robert Crook) at Christ-Church in Oxford; where they had the happiness to be under the tuition of the most ingenious and learned Dr. George Morley.

3. This young Scholar for divers years studied 16 of every 24 hours, and that with so much appetite and delight, as that he needed not the cure of Aristotle's drowsiness to awake himAEnea Pila. Diog. Laert.. In his first Academical exercises, his worth like the rising of the Sun, began to discover it self, darting forth such fair hopes and glimmerings of future perfection, as were quickly espied by the then vigilant Dean of Christ-Church, Dr. Duppa, since Lord Bishop of Sarum; who immediately received him into favour, and soon after made him Chaplain of Christ-Church, and after that his own Domestick and Prebendary of Chichester and Sarum.

4. For which favours, he now began (about 26 years old) to publish to the world his worth and gratitude in the dedication of his Notes on Learned Ridleys civil Law, to his honour'd Patron, the Bishop of Sarum. In which Notes he made an early discovery of his Civil, Historical, Ecclesiastical, Ritual, and Oriental Learning; together with the Saxon, French, Italian, Spanish, and all Eastern Languages; through which he miraculously travelled, without any guide, except Mr. Dod the Decalogist; whose society and directions for the Hebrew Tongue he enjoyed one Vacation near Banburie. For which courtesie, he ever gratefully remembred him, as a man of great Piety and Learning, Gravity and Modesty. Of which Graces also this person was as great a Possessor, as Admirer.

5. Hence these many tracts, both in English and Latin, were bashfully laid by, in his youth, as Abortives: Some whereof are now published, and entituled Posthume, as so many Testimonies and monuments of his general Learning. For which he was much honoured by the acquaintance and favour of men of the greatest honour and eminence Archbish Laud, B Mentague, B. Lindsey, Mr. John Selden, &c.that this Age hath produced: besides the Correspondence (in points of Learning) which he held with divers famous men abroad, as well Jesuits and Jews as others.

6. And now, being like the Sun in his Zenith, ready to shine in his greatest lustre, behold the whole Kingdome began to be clouded. Yet the hope of a clear day preserved this Learned man a while sufficiently spirited for study; whereby he composed and published (a little before his death) those his excellent Notes upon some passages of Scripture: in which kind of holy study he intended to spend the rest of his life.

7. But after 20 years trouble with an hereditary gout, improved by immoderate study, and now invading his stomach, the thred of his life being laboriously spun out but 39 years, foreseeing the Glory was now departing from our Israel, his spirits began to fail in an extraordinary manner.

8. For recovery and supportation whereof (his first noble Patron, the Bishop of Sarum, being disabled by sequestration &c) the liberal hand of a second Mecaenas was presently extended. (Ed. Bishop Esq ) Of whose Charity I may say, as our Saviour of that Unguent, Was it not to bury him? Yes and to raise him too with Fame, being very active and free toward the publication, not only of his posthumous Tracts but also of some other of greater expectatation Jo. Antioch hist. tran. out of Greek into Latine with Annot..

9. And here is to be lamented the loss of that, his excellent piece, entituled by himself Alkibla. In which with very great Judgment and Learning he vindicated the Antiquity of Eastward Adoration.

10. Some suspected him a favourer of the Roman way: but their jealousie, to my certain knowledge, was unjust and groundless, he having often declared and protested, not only to me, but also to many of his familiar friends, his Abhorrence of Popery, and his sincere Affection and constancy to the Protestant Religion, as it was established in England by Acts of Parliament.

11. And as he lived, so he dyed also, a most obedient and affectionate Son to his distressed Mother, the Church of England, for whose sufferings he sorrowed unto death. Those, and the foresight of that barbarity, (wherein Learning and Learned men were to be the objects of scorn and cruelty) broke his heart.

12. Time was (even amongst the Heathen) that Learning was a sufficient protection against Tyranny; witness Antonius Triumvir, who, when Varro (his Enemy and of a contrary part) was listed for death, He thus gallantly superscribed his Name, Vivat Varro Vir doctissimus.

13. This our Learned Friend deceased at Kidlington, Mar. 13.1646. And was buried in Christ-Church in Oxford. Where lives the memory of his Virtues, especially of Courtesie and Humility, not disdaining the meanest Scholar, nor proud of his Victorious discourses with the most learned. And all that knew him, will testifie, how free and liberal he was of his treasury, to the full satisfaction of all Inquisitors.

[From D. Jasper Maine.]

1. WHen I look back upon our late suffering times (the saddest which I think any History hath recorded) where oppression backt with power made the Ruine of our Church the horrid step and ladder to the Usurpation of the Crown, and where the very name of Bishop was criminal and odious: And when withal I do consider, by what unlookt for way of providence the Order and Religion, like a Treasure snatcht from Shipwreck, was stupendiously restored after many years confusion: Methinks that bush, which Moses saw, was the Emblem of our Church, kept safe by miracle in the midst of hungry fire; and the ship in the Gospel was presented to my eies, where Christ and his Apostles were lost in a hideous storm: but he awaked and stilled the winds, and put a calmness to the Sea.

2. In those daies of publick calamity, I saw some take for their Pattern the Prophet Jonas, and sleep securely in the storm: Other to preserve their wretched fortunes compounded with the Tempest, and made a League and friendship with the winds: others of a nobler and more Christian temper (whose just reward is now to shine like stars of honour in the Church) immoveably resolute to maintain their Loyalty and Conscience with the loss of their lives, as they had already with their fortunes.

3. Yet I hope it will be no diminution of their Virtues, if I say, that the Bishop of Salisburies Carriage in those times of persecution was to me most remarkable: who by this happy restitution and addition of more honour, was made a greater Bishop but not a greater person, than he had been in his lowest ebbe of Fortune.

4. The payment of his vow in building of an Alms-house on the place (at Richmond) where himself so often sate, weeping ore the prospect not then pleasant to his eye; His large bounty to the Colledge, of which I am a member (which if I should name the Sum would make the world believe he meant to found a new Colledge, and not complete an old:) His dying liberalities bequeathed to others in his Will, even to his meanest Servants, who were his Servants in distress, are things, which do proclaim him a great and noble Benefactor.

5. But these are but the good deeds of his Fortune done by the Bishop of Winchester, the Charities of one possessed with plenty and abundance; his Rents and Mannors share with him as Co-founders; and his new Alms-house might have it written on the Walls, A poor Bishop vow'd this house, but a great and mighty built it.

6. That which made him truly great and Reverend in my eies, was to look into his Noble heart, his large and bounteous mind, where his good deeds now, were then but wishes and designs. He was truly great to me, when I saw him in his poverty anticipate his Alms-house, and liberal at his door; and the poor people in his house now, had then places at his gate: when being reduced to his last cruse of oyl, he made the drops run to others; and when there was but a handful of meal left in the little barrel, he then dealt his loaf to them that wanted daily bread. In short, when he had but two Coats left, to give one to the Naked; when he had hardly more than one dish, to make the poor his guests; to see him walk on the Hill with not much money in his purse, and return back with none: But then to think of laying up treasures in Heaven, when he had so little left on earth, was a Charity which raised in me a Religious admiration, and lookt something like the Miracle wrought by our Saviour in the Gospel, where Multitudes were sed with two fishes, and five loaves.

7. Nor may I, without some injustice to his Virtues, forbear to let the world know, That I never saw Afflictions born with a more serene and even temper, than he did his: who in the worst of times stood like a firm unshaken Rock in the midst of angry waves; his Courage still the same, unbroken or undisturbed with any sad Disasters, not more publick than his own.

8. The Old Church of England still kept up in his house, with all its Forms and Rites, though publickly forbidden: Prayers constantly, and twice a day, read by him for the King; at a time when such Devotions were made Treason by the Tyrant: and weekly Sermons preacht before him, filled with so much loyalty and truth, as would any where else have cast the preacher into bonds, if not sent him from the Pulpit to the place of Execution.

9. To all this, his Lordships continued kindness to me, his encouragement of my younger studies, which grew up under his example, his Rescue of me from a shipwrack in the late undoing times, when being tost and stript of all, he was a plank to save me, and threw me out a line which drew me safe to shore, are Reasons sufficient to let the world receive this publick Testimony of my Gratitude.

Ob. An. Dom. 1663.

[From Bishop Taylor]

1. THe Death of our late most Reverend Primate the Church of Ireland hath very great reason to deplore, and we have great obligation to remember his very many worthy deeds done for this poor afflicted and despised Church. S. Paul that excellent Preacher (Heb. 11.) made a Sermon in Commemoration of the Saints. For since good men, while they are alive, have their Conversation in Heaven; when they are in Heaven, it is also fit that they should in their good names live upon Earth. Their great examples are an excellent Sermon to the Living: and in praising them when envy and flattery can have no interest to interpose, as it is the best incentive to great things, so to conceal what good God hath wrought by them is great unthankfulness to God and good men.

2. This great man, whom God hath lately taken from our eies, was bred in Cambridge, in Sidney Colledge, under Mr, Hulet, a grave and a worthy man: and he shewed himself not only a fruitful plant by his great progress in his studies, but made him another return of gratitude by taking care to provide a good employment for him in Ireland, where he then began to be greatly interested. Augustus Caesar gave his Tutor an honourable Funeral; Marcus Antonius erected a Statue to his: Gratian the Emperour made his Master Ausonius to be Consul, and our worthy Primate suffered not the industry of his teacher to pass unrewarded.

3. Having passed the course of his studies in the University, and done his Exercise with that Applause which is usually the reward of pregnant wits and hard study, he was remov'd into Yorkshire: where first in the City of York he was an assiduous Preacher, but by the Disposition of Divine providence he happened to be engaged at Northalerton in disputation with three pragmatical Romish Priests of the Jesuits order: whom he so much worsted in the Conference, and so shamefully disadvantaged by the evidence of Truth, represented Wisely and Learnedly, that the famous Primate of York, Archb. Matthews, a learned and most excellent Prelate, and a most worthy Preacher, hearing of that Triumph, sent for him and made him his Chaplain. In whose service he continued till the Death of the Primate, but in that time had given so much testimony of his great dexterity in the Conduct of Ecclesiastical and Civil Assairs, that he grew dear to his Master, and in that employment was made Prebendary of York, and then of Rippon. The Dean of which Church having made him his Sub-dean, he managed the affairs of that Church so well, that he soon acquired a greater fame, and entred into the possession of many hearts, and admiration to those many more that knew him.

4. There and at his Parsonage, he continued long to do the duty of a Learned and good Preacher; and by his wisedome, eloquence, and deportment, so gain'd the Affections of the Nobility, Gentry, and Commons of that County, that as at his return thither upon the blessed Restauration of his most Sacred Majesty, he knew himself obliged enough and was so kind as to give them a Visit: so they by their coming in great numbers to meet him, their joyful reception of him, their great caressing of him when he was there, their forward hopes to enjoy him as their Bishop, their trouble at his departure, their unwillingness to let him go away, gave signal testimonies that they were wise and kind enough to understand and value his great worth.

5. But while he lived there, he may seem like a Diamond in the dust; his low fortune cover'd a most valuable person, till he became observ'd by Sir Tho. Wentworth, Lord President of York, whom we all knew for his great excellencies, and his great but glorious misfortunes. This great person espied the great abilities of Doctor Bramhall, and made him his Chaplain, and brought him into Ireland, as one whom he believed would prove the most fit instrument to serve in that design, which for two years before his arrival here, he had greatly meditated and resolved: the Reformation of Religion, and the Reparation of the broken Fortunes of the Church.

6. The complaints were many, the abuses great, the Causes of the Church vastly numerous: but as fast as they were brought in, so fast they were by the Lord Deputy referred back to Doctor Bramhall: Who by his indefatigable pains, great sagacity, perpetual watchfulness, daily and hourly consultations, reduc'd things to a more tolerable condition than they had been left in, by the Schismatical principles of some, and the unjust prepossessions of others, for many years before. For the Bishops were easie to be oppress'd by those that would, and they complained, but for a long time had no helper; till God raised up that glorious instrument the Earl of Strafford, who brought over with him as great affections to the Church, and to all publick interests, and as admirable abilities, as ever before his time did invest and adorn any of the Kings Vice-gerents.

7. And God fitted his hand with an instrument as good, as his skill was great. For the first Specimen of his Abilities and diligence, in recovery of some lost Tithes, being represented to his late Majesty of blessed and glorious Memory, it pleased his Majesty, upon the Death of Bishop Downham to advance the Doctor to the Bishoprick of Derry. Which he not only adorned with an excellent spirit, and a wise Government, but did more than double tht Revenue; not by taking any thing from them to whom it was due, but by resuming some of the Churches Patrimony, which by undue means was detained in unfitting hands.

8. But his care was beyond his Diocess, and his zeal broke out to warm all his Brethren: for by the favour of the Lord Lieutenant, and his own incessant and assiduous labour and wise conduct, he bought in divers Impropriations, cancell'd many unjust alienations, and did restore them to a condition much more tolerable; I say much more tolerable: for though he rais'd them above contempt, yet they were not near to envy. But he knew there could not in all times be wanting too many, that envied to the Church every degree of prosperity. And for ever, since the Church by Gods blessing, and the favour of Religious Kings and Princes, and pious Nobility, hath been endowed with fair Revenues, the enemy hath not been wanting, by pretences of Religion, to take away Gods portion from the Church, &c. I have heard from a most worthy hand, that at his going into England, he gave account to the Archbishop of Canterbury of 30000l. a year, in the recovery of which he was greatly and principally instrumental.

9. But his care was not determined in the exteriour part only, and accessories of Religion: he was careful, and he was prosperous in it, to reduce that Divine and Excellent Service of our Church to publick and constant Exercise, to Unity and Devotion: and to cause the Articles of the Church of England to be accepted as the rule of publick confessions and perswasions here, that they and we might be populus unius labii, of one heart and one lip, building up our hopes of heav'n on a most holy Faith, and taking away that Shibboleth, which made this Church lisp too undecently. And the excellent and wise pains he took in this particular, no man can dehonestate or reproach, but he that is not willing to confess, That the Church of England is the best Reformed Church in the World. God, by the prosperity of his labours and a blessed effect, gave testimony, not only of the piety and wisdom of his purposes, but that he loves to bless a wise instructor, when he is vigorously employed in a wise and Religious Lahour.

10. These were great things, and matter of great envy. At first the product was nothing but great admiration at his stupendious parts, and wonder at his mighty diligence, and observation of his unusual zeal: but this quickly past into the natural daughters of envy, obloquy and slander. His zeal for recovery of the Church Revenues was called oppression and rapine: his care of reducing Religion to wise and justifiable Principles was called Popery and Arminianism, and I know not what names, which signifie what the Authors are pleas'd to mean, and the people to construe and to hate. This made him to walk more warily, and do justly, and act prudently, and conduct his Affairs by the measure of Laws, as far as he understood; and indeed that was a very great way. And though every slanderer could tell a story, yet none could prove that ever he receiv'd a bribe to blind his eyes, to the value of a pair of Gloves. It was his own expression, when he gave Glory to God, who had preserv'd him innocent.

11. See the greatness of truth and prudence, and how greatly God stood with him. When the numerous Armies of vexed people heaped up Catalogues of Accusations; when the Parliament of Ireland imitated the violent procedures of the then disordered English; when his glorious Patron was taken from his head, and he was disrobed of his great defences; when Petitions were invited, and Accusations furnished, and Calumny was rewarded and managed with Art and Power; when there was above 200 Petitions put in against him, and himself denyed leave to answer by word of mouth; when he was long imprison'd, and treated so, that a guilty man would have been broken into affrightment, and pittiful and low considerations: yet then, he himself standing almost alone (like Callimachus at Marathon, invested with Enemies, and cover'd with Arrows) defended himself beyond all the powers of guiltiness, even with the defences of Truth, and the bravery of Innocence, and answer'd the Petitions in Writing, sometimes 20 in a day, with so much clearness, evidence of truth, reality of fact, and testimony of Law, that his very enemies were asham'd and convinc'd: they found they had done like AEsop's Viper, they licked the File till their tongues bled, but himself was wholly invulnerable.

12. They were therefore to leave their Muster rolls and decline the particulars, and fall to their 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , to accuse him for going about to subvert the Fundamental Laws: the way by which great Stafford and Canterbury fell. Which was a device, when all reasons fail'd, to oppress the Enemy, by the bold affirmation of a conclusion they could not prove. But the Martyr-King, Charles the first, of most glorious and eternal memory, seeing so great a Champion likely to be oppress'd with numbers and despair, sent what rescue he could, his Royal Letter for his Bail, which was hardly granted to him; and when it was, it was upon such hard terms, that his very delivery was a persecution. He that does great things cannot avoid the tongues and teeth of Envy: but if Calumnies must pass for Evidences, the bravest Heroes must always be the most reproached persons in the world. But God, who takes care of Reputations as he does of Lives, by the orders of his Providence confutes the slanderer, that the memory of the righteous man might be embalm'd with Honour. And so it hapned to this great man. For by a publick warrantry, by the concurrent consent of both Houses of Parliament, the Libellous Petitions against him, the false Records and publick Monuments of injurious shame were cancell'd, and he was restor'd in integrum to that fame, where his great Labours and just Procedures had first instated him. Which though it was but justice, yet it was also such an honour, that it is greater than the virulence of tongues, which 〈2 pages missing〉 Stratagem, they did in part by open Force: they turned the Bishop out of the Town, and upon trifling and unjust pretences search'd his Carriages, and took what they pleas'd, till they were asham'd to take more. However though the usage was sad, yet it was recompenc'd to him by his taking Sanctuary in Oxford; where he was graciously receiv'd by that most incomparable and divine Prince: But having serv'd the King in Yorkshire by his Pen, and by his Counsels, and by his Interest, he return'd back to Ireland; where under the excellent conduct of his Grace, the now Lord Lieutenant, he ran the risque and fortune of oppressed Virtue.

15. But God having still resolv'd to afflict us, the good man was forced into the fortune of the Patriarchs, to leave his Country, and his Charges, and seek for safety and bread in a strange Land. He was not asham'd to suffer, where the Cause was honourable and glorious. Thus God provided for the needs of his banished, and sent a man, who could minister comfort to the afflicted, and courage to the persecuted, and resolution to the tempted, and strength to that Religion, for which they all suffered.

16. And here this great man was indeed triumphant, for so it was, that he stood in publick and brave defence for the Doctrine and Discipline of the Church of England. There wanted not diligent Tempters in the Church of Rome, who taking advantage of the Afflictions of his Sacred Majesty, (in which state men commonly suspect every thing, and like men in sickness are willing to change from side to side, hoping for ease and finding none) flew at Royal Game, and hop'd to draw away the King from that Religion, which his most Royal Father, the best Man and the wisest Prince in the world, had seal'd with the best Blood in Christendom; and which himself suck'd in with his Education, and had confirmed by choice and reason, and confess'd publickly and bravely, and hath since restor'd prosperously. Millitier was the man, witty and bold enough to attempt a zealous and a foolish undertaking; and address'd himself with ignoble indeed, but witty Arts, to perswade the King to leave what was dearer to him than his eyes. It is true, it was a Wave dash'd against a Rock, and an Arrow shot against the Sun, it could not reach him: but the Bishop of Derry turn'd it also, and made it fall upon the Shooters head. For he made so ingenious, so learned, and so acute Reply to that Book, he so discover'd the Errours of the Roman Church, retorted the Arguments, stated the Questions, demonstrated the Truth, and shamed their Procedures, that nothing could be a greater Argument of the Bishops Learning, great Parts, deep Judgment, quickness of Apprehension, and sincerity in the Catholick and Apostolick Faith, or of the Follies and Prevarications of the Church of Rome.

17. But this most Reverend Prelate found a nobler adversary, and a braver Scene for his Contention. He found that the Roman Priests, being wearied and baffled by the wise Discourses, and pungent Arguments of the English Divines, studiously declin'd any more to dispute the particular questions against us, but fell at last upon a general charge, imputing to the Church of England the great crime of Schism; and by this they thought they might with most probability deceive unwary and unskilful Readers: for they saw the Schism, and they saw we had left them; and because they consider'd not the Causes, they resolved to out-face us in the Charge. The Bishop now, having an Argument fit to employ his great abilities, undertakes the question, and in a full Discourse proves the Church of Rome not only to be guilty of the Schism, by making it necessary to depart from them; but they did actuate the Schism, and themselves made the first separations in the great point of the Pope's Supremacy; which was the palladium for which they principally contended. He made it appear, that the Popes of Rome were Usurpers of the Rights of Kings and Bishops, that they brought in new Doctrines in every Age, that they impos'd their own devices upon Christendom as Articles of Faith; that they prevaricated the Doctrines of the Apostles; that the Church of England only return'd to her Primitive purity, that she joyn'd with Christ and his Apostles, that she agreed in all the sentiments of the Primitive Church.

18. The old Bishop of Chalcedon, known to many of us, replyed to this excellent Book, but was soon answer'd by a Rejoynder made by the Lord Bishop of Derry; in which he so pressed the former Arguments, refuted the Cavils, brought in so many imimpregnable Authorities and probations, and added so many moments and weights to his Discourse, that the pleasures of reading the Book would be the greatest, if the profit to the Church of God were not greater. Whenever men will desire to be satisfied in those great questions, the Bishop of Derry's Book shall be their Oracle.

19. I will not insist upon his other excellent Writings; but it is known every where, with what Piety and acumen he wrote against the Manichaean Doctrine of fatal necessity, which a late witty man had pretended to adorn with a new Vizor: but this excellent person washed off the ceruss and the meretricious paintings, rarely well asserted the Oeconomy of the Divine Providence; and, having once more triumph'd over his Adversary, betook himself to the more agreeable attendance upon Sacred Offices; and having usefully and wisely discoursed of the Sacred Rite of Confirmation, impos'd hands upon the most illustrious Princes the Dukes of York and Glocester, and the Princess Royal, and ministred to them the promise of the Holy Spirit, and ministerially established them in the Religion and Service of the Holy Jesus.

20. And one thing more I shall remark, that at his leaving those parts upon the Kings Return, some of the Remonstrant Ministers of the Low-Countries coming to take their leaves of his great man, and desiring that by his means the Church of England would be kind to them: He had reason to grant it, because they were learned men, and in many things of a most excellett Belief; yet he reproved them, and gave them caution against it, that they approached too near, and gave too much countenance to the great and dangerous errours of the Socinians.

21. He thus having serv'd God and the King abroad, God was pleas'd to return to the King and to us all, as in the days of old, and we sung the Song of David, In convertendo captivitatem Sion. When King David and all his Servants returned to Jerusalem, this great person, having trod in the Wine-press, was called to drink of the Wine; and as an honorary Reward of his great Services and Abilities was chosen Primate of this National Church. He had this Remark in all his Government, that as he was a great hater of Sacriledge, so he professed himself a publick enemy to non-residence, and religiously against it, allowing it in no case but of necessity or the greater good of the Church.

22. There are great things spoken of his Predecessor St. Patrick, that he founded 700 Churches and Religious Covents, that he ordained 5000 Priests, and with his own hands Consecrated 350 Bishops. How true the story is I know not, but we are all witnesses that the late Primate, whose memory we now Celebrate, did by an extraordinary contingency of Providence in one day, consecrate two Archbishops and ten Bishops, and did benefit to almost all the Churches in Ireland, and was greatly instrumental to the endowments of the whole Clergy, and in the greatest abilities and incompararable industry was inferiour to none of his most glorious Antecessors.

23. The Character which was given of that Learned Primate Richard of Armagh by Trithemius does exactly fit this our Father: Vir in divinis, &c. He was learned in the Scriptures, skilled in secular Philosophy, and not unknowing in the Civil and Canon Laws (in which studies I wish the Clergy were with some carefulness and diligence still more conversant:) He was of an excellent Spirit, a Scholar in his Discourses, an early and industrious Preacher to the People. And, as if there were a more particular sympathy between their souls, our Primate had so great a veneration to his Memory, that he purposed, if he had lived, to have restor'd his Monument in Dundalk, which time or impiety or unthankfulness had either omitted or destroyed. So great a lover he was of all true and inherent worth, that he loved it in the very memory of the Dead, and to have such great examples transmitted to the intuition and imitation of Posterity.

24. At his coming to the Primacy, he knew he should at first espy little besides the ruines of Discipline, a Harvest of Thorns and Heresies, prevailing in the hearts of the people, the Churches possessed by Wolves and Intruders, mens hearts greatly estranged from true Religion: and therefore he set himself to weed the Fields of the Church. He treated the Adversaries sometimes sweetly, sometimes he confuted them learnedly, sometimes he rebuked them sharply. He visited his Charges diligently, and in his own person, not only by proxies and instrumental deputations: he design'd nothing, that we know of, but the Redintegration of Religion, the Honour of God and the King, the restoring of collapsed Discipline, and the renovation of the Faith, and the Service of God in the Churches: and still he was indefatigable, and, even in the last Scene of his life, not willing that God should take him unemployed.

25. The last of January God sent him a brisk alarm of Death, whereupon he made his Will; in which beside the prudence and presence of Spirit manifested in making a just and wise settlement of his Estate, and provisions for his descendants, at midnight and in the trouble of his sickness, and circumstances of addressing death, he kept still a special sentiment, and made confession of Gods admirable mercies, and gave thanks, that God had permitted him to live to see the blessed Restauration of his Majesty and the Church of England; confessed his Faith to be the same as ever, gave praises to God that he was born and bred up in this Religion, and prayed to God, and hoped he should die in the Communion of this Church, which he declared to be the most pure and Apostolical Church in the whole world. He prayed to God to pardon his frailties and infirmities, relyed upon the Mercies of God, and the Merits of Jesus Christ; and with a singular sweetness resign'd up his soul into the hands of his Redeemer.

26. But God, who is the great Choragus and Master of the Scenes of Life and Death, was not pleas'd to draw the Curtains: There was an Epilogue to his life, yet to be acted and spoken. He returned to Actions of Life, and went on in the methods of the same procedure as before, was desirous still to establish the Affairs of the Church, complain'd of some disorders which he purposed to redress, girt himself to the work: but though his Spirit was willing, yet his Flesh was weak, and he was heavy unto death, and look'd for the last warning, which seiz'd on him in the midst of business; and though it was sudden, yet it could not be unexpected or unprovided by surprize; and therefore could be no other than that 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 which Augustus used to wish unto himself, a civil and well natur'd death, without the amazement of troublesome circumstances. His passive fortitude had been abundantly tryed before, and therefore there was the less need of it now; his active Graces had been abundantly demonstrated by the great and good things he did; and therefore his last Scene was not so laborious: but God call'd him away, something after the manner of Moses, which the Jews express by osculum oris Dei, the kiss of Gods mouth, that is, a death indeed foresignified, but gentle and serene, and without temptation.

27. To sum up all, he was a wise Prelate, a learned Doctor, a just Man, a true Friend, a great Benefactor to others, a thankful Beneficiary where he was obliged himself. He was a faithful Servant to his Masters, a loyal Subject to the King, a zealous Assertor of his Religion against Popery on the one side, and Fanaticism on the other. The practice of his Religion was not so much in form and exteriour Ministeries (though he was a great observer of all the publick Rites and Ministeries of the Church) as it was in doing good for others. He had the sate of the Apostle St. Paul, he passed through evil report and good report, as a deceiver, and yet true. He was a man of great business and great resort: he divided his life into Labour, and his Book: he took care of his Churches when he was alive, and even after his death, having left 500 l. for the repair of his Cathedral of Armagh, and St. Peters Church in Drogheda. He was an excellent Scholar, and rarely well accomplished: first instructed to great excellency by natural parts, and then consummated by study and experience. Melancthon was us'd to say, that himself was a Logician, Pomeranus a Grammarian, Justus Jonas an Orator, but that Luther was all these. It was greatly true of him, that the single perfections, which make many men eminent, were united in this Primate, and made him illustrious. It will be hard to find his equal in all things: for in him were visible the great lines of Hookers Judiciousness, of Jewels Learning, and of the Acuteness of Bishop Andrews. He wrote many things fit to be read, and did very many things worthy to be written; which if we wisely imitate, we may hope to meet him in the Resurrection of the Just.

Ob. 1663.

[From Dr. George Rust.]

1. HE was born at Cambridge, and brought up in the Free-School there, and was ripe for the University, afore Custom would allow of his admittance: but by that time he was thirteen years old, he was entred into Caius Colledge, and as soon as he was Graduate, he was chosen Fellow.

2. He was a Man long afore he was of Age, and knew little more of the state of Childhood, than its Innocency and pleasantness. From the University, by that time he was Master of Arts, he removed to London, and became publick Lecturer in the Church of St. Pauls, where he preached to the admiration and astonishment of his Auditory: and by his florid and youthful Beauty, and sweet and pleasant Air, and sublime and rais'd Discourses, he made his Hearers take him for some young Angel, newly descended from the visions of Glory.

3. The Fame of this new Star, that out-shone all the rest of the Firmament, quickly came to the notice of the great Archbishop of Canterbury, who would needs have him Preach before him; which he performed not less to his wonder than satisfaction. His Discourse was beyond exception, and beyond imitation. Yet the wise Prelate thought him too young: But the great youth humbly beg'd his Grace to pardon that fault, and promis'd, if he liv'd, he would mend it.

4. However the grand Patron of Learning and ingenuity, thought it for the advantage of the world, that such mighty parts should be afforded better opportunities of study and improvement, than a course of constant Preaching would allow of. And to that purpose he plac'd him in the Colledge of All-Souls in Oxford; where love and admiration still waited upon him: which so long as there is any spark of Ingenuity in the breasts of men, must needs be the inseparable attendants of so extraordinary a worth and sweetness.

5. He had not been long here afore my Lord of Canterbury bestowed upon him the Rectory of Upingham in Rutland-shire, and soon after preferr'd him to be Chaplain to King Charles the Martyr of Blessed and immortal Memory. Thus were Preferments heaped upon him, but still less than his deserts: and that not through the fault of his great Masters, but because the amplest Honours and Rewards were poor, and inconsiderable, compar'd with the greatness of his worth and merit.

6. This great man had no sooner launch'd out into the world, but a fearful tempest arose, and a barbarous and unnatural War disturb'd a long and uninterrupted Peace and Tranquillity, and brought all things into disorder and confusion. But his Religion taught him to be Loyal, and engaged him on his Princes side: whose cause and quarrel he always owned, and maintain'd with a great courage and constancy: till at last, he and his little Fortune were shipwrack'd in that great Hurricane, that over-turn'd both Church and State. This fatal storm cast him ashore in a private corner of the world, and a tender Providence shrouded him under her wings; and the Prophet was fed in the Wilderness, and his great worthiness procur'd him friends that supply'd him with bread and necessaries.

7. In this solitude he began to write those excellent Discourses, which are enough of themselves to furnish a Library, and will be famous to all succeeding Generations for their greatness of Wit, and profoundness of Judgment, and richness of Fansie, and clearness of Expression, and copiousness of Invention, and general usefulness to all the purposes of a Christian. And by these he soon got a great Reputation among all persons of judgment and indifferency; and his Name will grow greater still, as the world grows better and wiser.

8. When he had spent some years in this retirement, it pleased God to visit his Family with Sickness, and to take to himself the dear pledges of his favour, three Sons of great hopes and expectations, within the space of two or three months. And though he had learn'd a quiet submission unto the Divine will, yet the Affliction touch'd him so sensibly, that it made him desirous to leave the Country: And going to London, he there met my Lord Conway, a person of great Honour and Generosity, who making a kind profer, the good man embrac'd it, and that brought him over into Ireland, and settled him at Portmore, a place made for study and contemplation, which he therefore dearly loved. And here he wrote his Cases of Conscience; a Book that is able alone to give its Author Immortality.

9. By this time the wheel of Providence brought about the Kings happy Restauration, and there began a new world, and the Spirit of God mov'd upon the face of the Waters, and out of a confused Chaos brought forth Beauty and Order, and all the three Nations were inspir'd with a new Life, and became Drunk with an excess of Joy. Among the rest, this Loyal Subject went over to Congratulate the Prince and Peoples Happiness, and bear a part in the Universal Triumph.

10. It was not long after his Sacred Majesty began the settlement of the Church, and the Great Doctor Jeremey Taylor was resolv'd upon, for the Bishoprick of Down and Conor, and not long after Dromore was added to it. And it was but reasonable that the King and Church should consider their Champion, and reward the pains and sufferings he underwent in the defence of their Cause and Honour.

11. With what care and faithfulness he discharg'd his Office, we are all his witnesses; what good Rules and Directions he gave his Clergy, and how he taught us the practice of them by his own Example. Upon his coming over Bishop, he was made a Privy Counsellor, and the University of Dublin gave him their Testimony, by recommending him for their Vice-Chancellor; which honourable Office he kept to his dying day.

12. During his being in this See, he wrote several excellent Discourses, particularly his Disswasive from Popery (which was received by a general Approbation) and a Vindication of it from some impertinent Cavillers, that pretend to answer Books, when there is nothing towards it, more than the very Title Page.

13. This great Prelate improv'd his Talent with a mighty industry, and managed his Stewardship rarely well: and his Master, when he call'd for his Accounts, found him busie, and at his work, and employ'd upon an excellent Subject, A Discourse upon the Beatitudes: Which if finish'd, would have been of great use to the world, and solv'd most of the Cases of Conscience that occur to a Christian, in all the varieties of states and conditions. But the All-wise God hath ordained it otherwise, and hath call'd home his good Servant, to give him a portion in that blessedness that Jesus Christ hath promised to all his faithful Disciples and Followers.

14. Thus having given you a brief account of his Life, I will add a Character of his person; although the Subject can hardly be reach'd by any expressions; for he was none of Gods ordinary works, but his Endowments were so many and so great, as really made him a Miracle.

15. Nature had befriended him much in his constitution, for he was a person of a most sweet and obliging Humour, of great Candour and ingenuity; and there was so much of Salt, and fineness of Wit, and prettiness of address in his familiar Discourses, as made his Conversation have all the pleasantness of a Comedy, and all the usefulness of a Sermon. His Soul was made up of Harmony. and he never spake, but he charm'd his Hearer not only with the clearness of his Reason, but all his words, and his very Tone and Cadencies were strangely Musical.

16. But that which did most of all captivate and enrich, was the gaiety and richness of his Fansie. For he had much in him of that natural Enthusiasm, that inspires all great Poets and Orators; and there was a generous ferment in his Blood and Spirits that set his Fansie bravely a work, and made it swell, and teem, and become pregnant to such degrees of Luxuriancy, as nothing, but the greatness of his Wit and Judgment, could have kept it within due bounds and measures.

17. And indeed it was a rare mixture, and a single instance, hardly to be found in any Age. For the great Tryer of Wits has told us, That there is a peculiar and several Complexion requir'd for Wit, and Judgment, and Fansie: and yet you might have found all these in this great Personage, in their eminency and perfection.

18. But that which made his Wit and Judgment so considerable, was the largeness and freedom of his Spirit. For Truth is plain and easie to a mind disintangled from Superstition and prejudice. He was one of the 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , a sort of brave Philosophers that Laërtius speaks of, that did not addict themselves to any particular Sect, but ingenuously sought for Truth among all the wrangling Schools. And they found her miserably torn and rent to pieces, and parcell'd into rags, by the several contending parties, and so dis-figur'd and mishapen, that it was hard to know her; but they made a shift to gather up her scatter'd Limbs, which as soon as they came together, by a strange sympathy and connaturalness, presently united into a lovely and beautiful Body.

19. This was the Spirit of this great man, he weighed mens Reasons, and not their Names, and was not scar'd with the ugly Vizars, men usually put upon persons they hate, and opinions they dislike; nor affrighted with the Anathema's and Execrations of an Infallible Chair; which he looked upon only as Bugbears to terrifie weak and childish minds. He consider'd, that it is not likely any one party should wholly engross Truth to themselves, that Obedience is the only way to true knowledge (which is an Argument that he hath manag'd rarely well, in that excellent Sermon of his which he calls Via intelligentiae:) that God always and only teaches docible and ingenuous minds, that are willing to hear, and ready to obey according to their Light: that it is impossible, a pure, humble, resigned, God-like Seul should be kept out of Heav'n, whatever mistakes it might be subject to in this state of Mortality; that the design of Heav'n is not to fill mens Heads, and feed their Curiosities, but to better their Hearts and mend their Lives. Such considerations as these made him impartial in his disquisitions, and give a due allowance to the Reasons of his Adversary, and contend for Truth and not for Victory.

20. To these advantages of Nature, and excellency of his Spirit, he added an indefatigable Industry, and God gave a plentiful Benediction: for there were very few kinds of Learning but he was a Mystes, and a great Master in them.

21. He was a rare Humanist, and hugely verst in all the polite parts of Learning, and had throughly concocted all the antient Moralists, Greek, and Roman, Poets, and Orators; and was not unacquainted with the refined Wits of the later Ages, whether French, or Italian.

22. But he had not only the Accomplishments of a Gentleman, but so universal were his parts, that they were proportion'd to every thing. And though his Spirit and Humour were made up of smoothness and gentleness, yet he could bear with the harshness and roughness of the Schools, and was not unseen in their subtilties and spinosities, and upon occasion could make them serve his purpose: And yet, I believe, he thought many of them very near a kin to the Famous Knight of the Muncha, and would make sport sometimes with the Romantick Sophistry, and phantastick Adventures of School-Errantry.

23. His skill was great, both in the Civil and Canon Law, and Casuistical Divinity: And he was a rare conductor of Souls, and knew how to counsel, and to advise; to solve difficulties and determine Cases, and quiet Consciences. And he was no Novice in Mr. J. S.'s new Science of Controversie: but could manage an Argument, and make reparties with a strange dexterity. He understood what the several Parties in Christendom have to say for themselves; and could plead their cause to better advantage than any Advocate of their Tribe; and when he had done, he could confute them too, and shew, that better Arguments than ever they could produce for themselves, would afford no sufficient ground for their fond Opinions.

24. I shall adde only his great acquaintance with the Fathers and Ecclesiastical Writers, and the Doctors of the first and purest Ages both of the Greek and Latin Church; which he has made use of against the Romanists, to vindicate the Church of England from the Challenge of Innovation, and prove her to be truly Antient, Catholick, and Apostolical.

25. But Religion and Virtùe is the Crown of all other Accomplishments: and it was the Glory of this great man, to be thought a Christian, and whatever you added to it, he look'd upon as a term of diminution. And yet he was a zealous Son of the Church of England; but that was, because he judg'd her, (and with great reason) a Church the most purely Christian of any in the world.

26. In his younger years he met with some assaults from Popery, and the high pretensions of their Religious Orders were very accommodate to his devotional Temper. But he was always so much Master of himself, that he would never be govern'd by any thing but Reason, and the evidence of Truth: which engag'd him in the study of those Controversies; and to how good purpose, the world by this time a sufficient witness. But the longer, and the more he consider'd, the worse he lik'd the Roman Cause, and became at last to censure them with some severity: but I confess, I have so great an opinion of his Judgment, and the Charitableness of his Spirit, that I am afraid he did not think worse of them than they deserve.

27. But Religion is not matter of Theory and Orthodox Notions, and it is not enough to believe aright, but we must practice accordingly: and to Master our Passions, and to make a right use of that 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 and power that God has given us over our own actions, is a greater glory than all other Accomplishments that can adorn the mind of man. And therefore I shall close my Character of this great Personage with a touch upon some of those Virtues, for which his Memory will be precious to all Posterity.

28. He was a person of great Humility, and, notwithstanding his stupendious Parts, and Learning, and eminency of place, he had nothing in him of Pride and Humour, but was courteous and affable, and of easie access, and would lend a ready ear to the Complaints, yea to the impertinences of the meanest persons.

29. His Humility was coupled with an extraordinary Piety, and I believe he spent the greatest part of his time in Heaven. His solemn hours of Prayer took up a considerable portion of his life; and we are not to doubt but he had learn'd of St. Paul to pray continually; and that occasional ejaculations, and frequent aspirations and emigrations of his Soul after God, made up the best part of his Devotions.

30. But he was not only a good man God-ward, but he was come to the top of St. Peters Gradation, and to all his other Virtues added a large and diffusive Charity. And whoever compares his plentiful Incomes with the inconsiderable estate he left at his Death, will be easily convinc'd, that Charity was steward for a great proportion of his Revenue. But the Hungry that he fed, and the Naked that he cloath'd, and the distress'd that he supply'd, and the fatherless that he provided for; the poor Children that he put to Apprentice, and brought up at school, and maintain'd at the University, will not sound a Trumpet to that Charity, which he dispersed with his right hand, but wouldnot suffer his left hand to have any knowledge of it.

31. To sum up all in a few words, This Great Prelate, had the Good Humour of a Gentleman, the Eloquence of an Orator, the Fansie of a Poet, the acuteness of a Schoolman, The profoundness of a Philosopher, the Wisdom of a Chancellor, the Sagacity of a Prophet, the Reason of an Angel, and the Piety of a Saint. He had Devotion enough for a Cloister, Learning enough for an University, and Wit enough for a Colledge of Virtuosi: And, had his Parts and Endowments been parcell'd out among his poor Clergy that he left behind him; it would perhaps have made one of the best Diocese in the world.

32. But alas! Our Father, Our Father! The Horses of our Israel, and the Chariot thereof! He is gone, and has carried his Mantle, and his Spirit along with him up to Heaven; and the Sons, of the Prophets have lost all their beauty and lustre, which they enjoy'd only from the reflection of his Excellencies, which were bright and radiant enough, to cast a glory upon a whole order of Men. But the Sun of this our world, after many attempts to break through the crust of an earthly Body, is at last swallow'd up in the great Vortex of Eternity; and there all his Maculae are scatter'd and dissolv'd, and he is fix'd in an Orb of Glory, and shines among his Brethren-stars, that in their several Ages gave Light to the world, and turn'd many Souls unto Righteousness.

33. And we that are left behind, though we can never reach his perfections, must study to imitate his Virtues, that we may at last come to sit at his feet in the Mansions of Glory, which God grant for his infinite Mercies in Jesus Christ.

Ob. Aug. 13. 1667.