VPON the sad newes of the death of Master Francis Russell at Paris, his father my most ho­noured Lord of Bed­ford, told me, that foure faire Oakes of his, were lately blowne downe as it were altogether; of which subject my Lord made so moving a discourse, as it seemed to mee their ex­tirpation tooke deepe roote in his thoughts. Shortly after my Lord sent for me againe, and then complained that he found his owne health somewhat sha­ken: wherefore to lessen the mainte­nance of a future sicknesse, he desired to resume a vomit, which the last yeare had [Page 2] gently cured him of a churlish sicknesse in the Countrey: but in this, both my Lord and my selfe were willing to aske the counsell and consent of D. Craige, as well a true friend as a faithfull Physitian to his Lordship. Hee finding him the next day in a feverish disposition, incli­ned to the letting of his Lordship bloud first, which as it was learnedly proposed, so it was presently executed Afterwards, seeing my Lord continue sicke by an oppression of choller in his stomacke, consented to give him his vomit. When that had done working, as it often hap­pens, nature being discharged of one bur­den, her selfe shakes off another, like Gallens Asse, that was too weak to winch off two sackes, would never beare one; there flourished in divers parts of his skin some red spots, which my Noble Lady Brooke, my Lords daughter, and Misteris Roberts his diligent servant first observed, whereupon my Lord, who ever consi­dered others safety before his owne con­tent, with extraordinary earnestnesse for­ced [Page 3] his deare Lady and Children much against their will to leave him.

This yeare has beene fertile of won­ders, many strange eruptions have beene made in the skin that have desembled the small poxe when it proved otherwise, even to the deceiving of the best Physi­tians, no dishonour to the profession.

The cleerest knowledge of mankind is clouded with errors in all imploy­ments. An medicina ars non putanda est quam tamen multa fallunt.

My Lord being thus parted from his dearest Lady and children, as a tree with­out a barke and branches;

Out of the great zeale the influence of my Lords favours to me, had kindled in my heart, put me into passion, which if it makes us blinde and unable to see things present, much more it does ob­scure things farre off, and to come. All that I could doe for that time to comfort my Lord and my selfe, was to say, I be­lieved it was but a simple boyling of blood, which he had often formerly had, [Page 4] and had neither the infection nor the pe­rill of the small poxe. I endeavoured to be very cheerefull with him; having e­ver found that the speeches of the Physi­tian, as good and bad aspects to governe and raigne much in the hearts and thoughts of the Patients, and much more with their passions, highten, or lessen the power of their sickenesse

Some recover of the Plague, because they never knew they had it, others dye of a fit of an Ague, because they thought it the Plague: alwaies the small poxe comes soonest out, when tis not thought of within, to the greate security of them that have it, for amongst all good signes in that disease, that is the best, that they breake forth together and quickly; howsoever all exanthemata and eruptions to the skinne require the same cure and [...], except some are pursued and chafed out with lesse se­v [...]y.

[...] are plants thrive best in the [...]; [Page 5] my Lords body was so subtile as he could scarce indure to bee covered up a whole night in his bed.

We can rake up coales in their embers, but flames never.

A faithfull servant of his told me, hee was so weary of his bed, as hee seared it would bee his grave, by these words, I foole away my life to observe the Physiti­ans; and in my hearing, when hee was [...] to rise, he sighed out this professi­on of obedience; well then I will die to observe the Physitians.

If I were now upon my death bed, and to declare what my Lord died on, I should say hee died of too much of his bed, and not of the small pox: till Sater­day-night I am sure hee had no signe of danger, as I am sure that then there was no hope of life; nature having given over the field to devotion, which came in so armed & so invincible as I never yet saw the like, though I haue waited upon ma­ny who had no other businesse of life then to die well, his breath was spent be­fore [Page 6] his eies and hands ceased to be lifted up to heaven, as if his soule would have carried his body along with it.

Thus though hee commanded his bo­dy to bee buried with decency, but not pompe, yet I could not but publish the glorious manner of his death.

Those that knew the obligations I had to this great and good Lord, will I pre­sume pardon,