§. I. JOHN Erasmus tells Lup­set (who gave him some materials to write this life) that Colet is a name that seemeth to have been given to this Author by God, for Coh [...], which in Hebrew si­gnifies Ecclesiastes, the preacher. If I might guess again, I should say that he was so called because of those rare endow­ments that were in him. For the Colet is that part of the ring wherein: the pretious stone or signet is set. See Tho. Thomasius in voce Pala. It pleased Alm. God to break his mothers wedding-ring in taking away all her 22 children, except en­ly one: but he preserved the colet of it, in pre­serving our D ^r. alive as long as she lived. See more of this, page penult. COLET was born in London, the son of Henry Colet (Knight, and twice L ^d. Major of that City) and Christian his wife: who Erasm. 1. 24. ep. 16. p. 1317. was a Matron of very rare piety and Christian fortitude; whereof I will give but one in­stance. She had 11 sons, and as many daughters of the same hus­band; all which she saw buried, except John who was her first­born. God was pleased to take Sir Henry away, when she was a very old woman. And when she was fourscore and ten years of age, her countenance was so comely and entire, her behaviour so cheerfull and pleasant, that if you had seen her you would have said, sure she never had any sorrow or any child­bearing in her life: yet, unless my memory fail much, she out lived her son John. So much strength of minde was there even in a woman, caused not by Philo­sophy [Page 60] or humane learning, but by sincere piety to God and trust in Christ. A shame for many men!

§. 2. LIB. XV. Epist. 14. pag. 702. Of these two and twenty children, John being the eldest was according to the law of England his fathers sole heir: whereby he must have inherited a very considerable fortune, though the rest had all lived, but they were all dead when I first began to know him. And nature was as indulgent to him as fortune; for he had a very proper, tall, This appears from that picture of him which is in our pub­lick library at Cam­bridge, in a very choice Manuscript, most elaborately done in his own house at Pauls. In the first page whereof these words (D. Johannis Coletsi Decani S. Pauli) are writ over a yong per­son in Priestly attire, having the beautiful­lest face (in my opi­nion) that ever I be­held; and so far dif­fering from that [...] is of him at S. Pauls school & his tomb, hat I was saint [...] them both to a judicious Limner, to know whether they were drawn for the same man: who answered, yes certainly: whence I gathered (and from p. 58. l. 18. & p. 71 l. 23. of this book) that he was very fair till his sweating sickness and consumption, and (perhaps chiefly) his afflictions changed his complexion. —re crede coleri. handsome and comely body. In his younger days he much addi­cted himself to the study of Schola­stical Philosophy, and commenced in England Master of Arts; an ho­nour due not so much to his stand­ing in the Universitie, as his know­ledge in the seven libereal sciences: in none whereof he had been then ignorant, in most of them exquisit­ly learned. All Tullies works were as familiar to him as his epistles. He had read over Plato and Ploti­nus [so diligently, that when I heard him speak, me thought I heard Pla­to himself talk, lib. 5. ep. 2. pag. 309. c.] And he had a smartering in each part of Mathematicks

§. 3. Being thus well principled at home, he began to look abroad, and improve his stock in foreign parts. In France he added to his Humanity, what he thought necessa­ry for the study of Divini y: which then he effectually prosecuted in [Page 61] Italy. Amongst the Ancients he was most taken with Dionyfius, Origen, S. Cyprian, S. Ambrose, and S. Hie­rome. But among them all he did most disgust S. Au­gustine. And yet he did not so tye himself to Antiquity, but that (as occasion served) he sometimes surveyed Aquinas. Scotus. and other School men. In a word he was well versed in both Laws; and singularly read in History, both civil and ecclesiastical. And because he saw that England had her Dantes & Petrarchs as well as Italie (who have performed the same here, which they did there) those and these, he both read and dili­gently imitated; accommodating thereby his stile to the Pulpit, and preaching of the Gospel.

§. 4. After his return from Italie, he staid not long in London (where his parents lived) but chose to live in Oxford, where he publickly (yet freely and without stipend) expounded S. [...] Epistles, being not full thirty years of age younger then I was by two or three moneths. There and then I had the happiness to come first acquainted with him: For though at that time he had neither took nor desired any degree in Divinity; yet there was no Doctour whatsoever either of Theo­logie or Law, no Abbot nor dignified person in the whole Universitie, that did not frequent (and which is more) take notes of his Lectures. Which was to be imputed either to Colets authority, or their studiousness and modesty, choose you whether.

§. 5. But before he left Oxford they honoured him with the degree of Doctour; which he accepted rather to please the givers then himself. From that University and these sacred imployments, he was called back to London by the favour of K. Henry VII. who bestowed upon him the Deanery of S. Pauls; that he might be President of his Colledge whose Epistles and learning he loved so well. [He was made both Doctour and Dean a ^o 1504. l. 10. ep. 8. p. 512.] Of all the Deaneries in England the highest in esteem, but not of greatest [Page 62] value: which Colet embraced rather as a burdensome charge, then honour. And therefore as soon as he had regulated his Colledge of Prebends, and raised up the antient Discipline that was fallen down, he resolved (which was not usual in those times) TO PREACH EVERY HOLYDAY in his Cathedral, over and above his Sermons at Court, and many other Churches. At S. Pauls he expounded the Scriptures, not by retale, but whole-sale; running over, sometimes a whole Epistle, sometime a whole Gospel, the Creed, or the Lords Prayer. Wheresoever he preached, he was exceedingly follow­ed, both by the chief Citizens and Courtiers: which appears by this following letter sent him by S ^r. Thomas More (afterwards Lord Chancellour of England) which you may see in Stapleton, (tom. 4 pag. 992. operum in folio.)

§. 8. The Deans table which in former times had under pretence of good house-keeping, been too much prostitute to excess, he reduced to frugality. For he kept himself to one meal a day many years together, both before and after his preferment: which at once cut off all his supper-guests (late dinners not a few) and the more, because his entertainment (though neat) was nei­ther costly nor excessive; his sitting short, and his whole discourse such as pleased none but those that were ei­ther learned or pious. For soon after he had said grace, his boy read a chapter (distinctly and aloud) out of S. Pauls Epistles, or Solomons Proverbs; from which he himself for the most part pickt the subject of that meals discourse: asking not onely Scholars, but even ordinary [Page 65] people (if they were ingenuous) what was the mean­ing of this or that passage. And he so ordered his words, that though he were holy and grave, yet he seemed no whit tedious or supercilious. And at the end of the meal, when their hunger (not pleasure) was satisfied, he fell upon another subject: thus dismissing his guests, with as much satisfaction to their minds as refresh­ment to their bodies, desiring they should depart bet­ter men then they came, not with bigger bellies. He was hugely delighted with the conference of his friends, who oft kept him till late at night; but all his conference was either of literature, or Jesus Christ. If he had no acceptable friend to chat with (for every one did not please him) his boy did reade somewhat to him out of godly books. Sometimes he called me to ride abroad with him, and then he was as merry as any man alive; but a good book was always his comrade in his journey, and his talk was continually of Christ.

§. 9. He was so much averse from all filthiness, that he could not endure solecismes or barbarous language. He affected neatness in his houshold-stuff, clothes, books, meat; but not magnificence. He wore no gar­ments but black, whereas in England Doctours in Di­vinity and other eminent [...], commonly wear scarlet. His upper garment was always of cloth, plain and without trimming; which in hard frosts he fortified with fur. [ Praefat. ad notas in N. T.] And he being an eminent advancer of divine philosophy, lent me two very old Latine copies of the * The two [...] Go­spels were copied out of them by Peter Meghen, a tare scribe with one eye, born at [...] in Flan­ders. He was kept by D ^r. [...] in the Deans house at Pauls, and his most fair transcript is now kept in the publick Library at: Cambridge. New Testament, when I wrote notes upon it; writ in characters that were like Saxon, and in­deed so old, that I was forced to turn childe again, and begin a­new to learn my Alphabet before I could read them.

[Page 66] §. 10. Whatsoever revennues accrued unto him by the Church, he intirely committed to his stew­ard, to be distributed, and spent in house-keeping. [ See pag. ult.] His own hereditary rents and profits (which were vast) he himself distributed to pious uses. For his father being dead, money flowed in apace from what was left him by inheritance; and lest that being kept should breed some disease in him, he therewith erect­ed a stately new school in S. Pauls Churchyard, dedica­ted to the holy childe Jesus: whereunto he joyned fair dwellings for two School-masters, to whom he assigned liberal stipends, that they might teach gratis but so as that they should not be enjoyned to admit above a certain number [viz. 153. from John xxi. 11.]

§, 11. The whole fabrick he divided into four parts: whereof one (at the entrance) is as it were for the Cate­chumeni (& yet none is admitted till he can read and write) the second for such as are under the usher. The third part is for those whom the upper Master teacheth These two ends are divided by a curtain, w ^ch is drawn to and fro when they please. Above the Masters chair stands the holy childe JESUS, curiously engraven, in the posture of one reading a lecture, with this motto HEAR HIM, which words I advised him to set up. And all the young fry when they come in & go out of school [ beside [...] appointed prayers] salute Christ with an Which you may read amongst Era­smus's Epigramms. hymn. At the upper end is a chappel, in which divine Service may be said. The whole building hath no corners nor lurking holes for dunces, having neither chamber nor dining room in it. Every boy hath his proper seat distinguisht by spaces of wood, and the forms have three ascents. Every class contain­eth sixteen boys, [ the two lowest much more] and the best scholar of each, sits in a seat somewhat more eminent than the rest [ with the word CAPITANEUS engraven in golden letters over his [...].]

[Page 67] §. 12 The masters of this School do not rashly ad­mit all that are brought; but choice is made of the most towardly wits and best dispositions; lest in that laborious imployment they should toyl in vain. For some men in this age are so base [ as I told D ^r. Colet l. 31. ep. 45. p. 2046. g.] as to set those to be Scholars, and profess Divinity (the chief of all Sciences) whom for their dull capacitie and bad natures they think scarce fit for any other study. He entreated me [ lib. 10. ep. 17, & 18. p. 518. [...]. & 520. c] to seek out a man whom I thought a fit Under-master for this his School (Will. Lilly being the first upper-master) I enquired in many places but could hear of none. At length being at Cam­bridge among some Masters of Arts, I propounded it to them; one of them (and he of no mean esteem) smi­ling, said, Who would endure to live in that School among boyes, that could make a shift to scrape up a livelyhood any where else? I answered modestly, that it seemed to me a very honest imployment, to instruct young people in learning and good manners; that Christ did not de­spise that age; that a man could bestow his pains upon no age better; and in no place expect a better effect or reward of his pains then at S. Pauls School, because it is in the midst of London, and London the chief City of the Kingdome, where from all other parts the lines (or gentrie and ingenuous people) meet as in a centre. And I added, that if men were truly pious, they would think that they could no way serve God better then by bringing children to Christ. But he drawing up his nose and scoffing, replyed, if any have a minde to serve Christ let him go into a Monasterie or Religious house. I answered, that S. Paul placed true Religion in the du­ties of Charity; and that charity consisted in doing as much good to our neighbours as we could. He reje­cted that as sillily spoken. Behold, quoth he, we have left all, therein is perfection. I finally told him, that that man hath not left all, who when it is in his power [Page 68] to do good to very many people, shuns the imploy­ment because he thinks it too mean for him—And so (lest we should have wrangled) I left the man. But you here see the wisdome of the Scotists.

§. 13. Our quick-sighted D ^r. Colet saw very well, that the main hope and pillar of a Common-wealth, consists in furnishing youth with good literature, and therefore did he bestow so much care and cost on this school. Though it stood him in an So vast charges, as would have scared even a Peer of the Realm to think on it; for he laid out all his inheritance upon it. Tam ingentes sumptus ut satra­pam quoque [...] possint, &c. Erasm. l. 28 ep. 28. epist de­dic. ad Copiam verborum. which book he wrote for the benefit of S. Pauls school, as he wrote his book called Ecclesiastes, sive de ratione concionandi (at the request of Bishop Fisher) for Christs Col­ledge and S. Johns in Cambridge, as appears by the epistle dedi­catory before it. infinite sum of money to build and en­dow it, yet he would ac­cept of no copartner. One left indeed a legacie of an 100 pounds sterling to the structure of it; but Colet thinking, that if he took it, some lay people would challenge to them­selves I know not what authority over the school, did by the permission of his Bishop, bestow it up­on holy vestments for the quire. Yet though he would suffer no lay-man to have a finger in the building, he entrusted no Clergy-man (not so much as the Bishop, Dean and Chapter of S. Pauls) nor any of the Nobi­lity, with the oversight of the revenues, but some mar­ried citizens of honest report. When he was asked why he would do so? he answered, That there was nothing certain in humane affairs; but he found least corruption in such men.

§. 14. As all men highly commended him for his Of which school [...] ^r. Colet, More writ thus to D ^r. [...], Ne (que) valde miror [...] clarissimae scholae [...] invidiâ. Vident enim [...] ex [...] Trojano [...] qui barbaram diruère Trojam, sic [...] tua prodire schola, qui ipsorum [...] at (que) [...] in [...]. Lib. 23. p. 870. cited by Stapleton. tom. 4. p 993. school, so many won­dred why he would build [Page 69] so stately an house, within the bounds of the [...] monastery: which is not far from the palace at Rich­mond: but he told them, that he provided that seat for himself in his old age, when he should be unfit for la­bours, or broken with diseases, and so constrained to retire from the society of men. There he intended to philosophize with two or three eminent friends, among which he was wont to reckon me; but death prevented him. For being few years before his decease visited thrice with the sweating sickness (a disease which sei­zed no countrey-men but English) though he recover­ed, yet he thereupon grew consumptive, and so [...]. One Physician thought that the dropsie kill'd him; but when he was diffected, they saw nothing extraordina­ry: onely the capillary vessels of his liver, were beset with [...]. He was buried in the south-side of the quire of his own Cathedral, in a low sepulchre, which he to that end had chose for himfelf some years before, with this inscription, JOHN COLET. [ but hereof I will add more in the last pa e of this narrative.]

§. 15. In the mean while I shall say somewhat, first of his nature, secondly of his paradoxical opinions, and lastly of those [...] where with his ingenuous piety was exercised; for some whereof he might have thank­ed his own natural temper. For he was of a very high spirit, hugely impatient of any injury, wonderfully prone to lasciviousness, luxury, and overmuch sleep, to jeasting and facetiousness above measure, (all this he confessed to me himself) and he was not wholly safe from covetousness. But against each of these he fought such a good fight, by Philosophy, Divine contempla­tions, watching, fasting, and prayer, that he led the whole course of his life free from the infections of this world; and as far as I could any way gather (by famili­arity and much liberal converse with him) was a pure virgin to his dying day. All his wealth he distributed to pious uses. [ of which I have [...] somewhat already, and shall say more [...].

[Page 70] §. 16. [ Lib. 23. ep. 5. p. 1206. a.] He had an unkle that was a very old ill-conditioned man, with whom he did not agree, The difference between them was not about a trifle, but so vast a sum of money, that a son might almost have fought with his father about it. Colet being to dine with the Reverend Father in God What an exemplary man this William was, and how ex­cellent a pattern of a good Pre­late, see in Erasmus's Ecclesia­stes in the middle of the first book, which is extraordinarily well worth the reading. William Archbishop of Canterbury, took me in the boat with him from S. Pauls to Lambeth. All the way he read the re­medie of anger in my Enchiridion, but did not tell me wherefore he read it. When we sat down, it chanced that [...] sat over a­gainst his uncle; and there he was very sad, neither speaking a word, nor eating a bit. Now the Archbi­shop had an excellent faculty in such a case (to make every one merry at his table) ordering his discourse according to each mans peculiar temper; so he began to compare our several ages, and then those who sat musing before, fell to chatting; and the unkle (as old men are wont to do) began to brag, that though he were so far stricken in years, he felt no de­cay of his strength. After dinner they two had some discourse betwixt themselves; but what I cannot tell. When Colet and I were come back to the boat, he told me that he saw I was an happy man; I answered, that I wondred why he should call me happy, who thought my self the unhappiest person in the world: whereupon he told me, that he had been that day so an­gry with his unkle, that he had almost resolved (break­ing all bonds of Christian modesty, and natural affe­ction to his kinred) to have sued him openly at law: That for this reason he took my [...] in his hand along with him, to read the remedy against anger, and that the reading of it had done him much good; That by that prattle in dinner time, the bitterness and heat [Page 71] of each was so far allayed, as that when the Archbishop stepped aside, and they talkt together privately, the whole difference was composed. [ p. 705.] In a word, Colet did daily so endeavour to conquer all his passions, and subdue the haughtiness of his minde by reason, that he would take it well to be admonished even by a childe.

§. 17. Lasciviousness, sleep, and luxury he chased away by abstaining constantly from supper, by conti­nual sobriety, indefatigable study, and holy conferen­ces. But yet when there was occasion, either to dis­course with fair Ladies, or jest with witty persons, or feast with pleasant, a man might easily perceive some foot-steps of his nature, which made him for the most part keep from the society of all lay people; but especi­ally from banquets, to which when he must needs come, he cōmonly took with him me or some learned friend, with whom he discoursed in Latine, that he might a­void idle talk. His custome was to eat onely of one dish, to content himself with one glass of beer or ale, or two at the most. And though he was delighted with good wine, yet he drank very little of it; always suspecting his own sanguine complexion and inclination, and be­ing very wary of all those things, by which he might offend any person whatsoever.

§. 18. In all my life I never saw a more happy wit; and thence it came that he was exceedingly pleased with such wits as were like himself: but at all times when he might choose his discourse, it was of such things as prepared him for the immortality of a life to come. And when at any time he refresht himself with pleasant stories, he did not fail to make use of his philosophy in them. He was much pleased with the purity and simplicity of nature in little children (to the imitation of whom we are called by our blessed Savi­our) being wont to compare them to angels.

§. 19. Now for the second particular, his opinions; [Page 72] much differed in them from the vulgar. The Scotists (of whose acuteness most men have an high conceit) he esteemed heavie fellows, and any thing rather then ingenuous. And yet he had a worse opinion of Thomas Aquinas (for what reason I know not) then of Scotus. For when I sometimes commended Thomas to him as no contemptible authour (among the moderns) be­cause he seemed to have read both Scriptures and Fa­thers (as I guessed by his Catena Aurea) and to have somewhat of affection in his writings; Colet seemed not to minde me two or three times, & said nothing. But when at another discourse I spoke the same again with more vehemency, he lookt [...] upon me, to see whether I were in jest or in earnest, and when he saw I spoke seriously, he replied thus in a passion, Why do ye commend this man to me? who if he had not been very arrogant would never so rashly (and yet so magisteri­ally) have presumed to define all points of religion: and if he had not savoured too much of the spirit of the world, he would not have polluted all the doctrine of Christ with so much of his own profane philosophy. I wondred at the en­thusiastick posture of the man, and after that set upon reading Aquinas his works more attentively; and I must needs confess, that my opinion of him abated much.

§. 20. No man was more a friend to true Christian piety, yet he had little or no kindness for Monks, or ra­ther I should say for those who are now (for the most part falsly) so called: and therefore while he lived he gave them but little, and when he died, nothing. Not that he [...] the profession, but because he saw they did not live according to it. Yet his desire was to have disingaged himself from the world, and betaken him­self to a Monastery, if he could any where have found a society that was truly and unanimously resolved upon an Evangelical life. And when I went into Italy, he charged me to seek for such an one; telling me that he [Page 73] had found some Monks there, who were really pru­dent and pious: commending also some Germans, among whom he thought that the footsteps of the good old Religion did still remain.

§. 21. Though he lived very chastly himself, yet he had a very charitable opinion of those Priests and Monks, who had no other crime but venery. Not that he did not heartily abhor the sin; but because he found such men far less mischievous then others (if compa­red) who were haughty, envious, backbiters, hypo­crites, vain, unlearned, wholly given to the getting of money and honour. Yet these had a mighty opinion of themselves, whereas others by acknowledging their infirmity, were made more humble and modest. He said, that to be covetous and proud was more abomi­nable in a Priest, then to have an hundred concubines: not that he thought incontinence to be a light sin; but covetousness and pride to be at a greater distance from true piety. And he was not more averse to any sort of men, than such Bishops who were wolves in slead of shepherds: and commended themselves by external service of God, ceremonies, benedictions, and indūl­gences to the people; while with all their hearts they served the world, that is, glory and gain. He was not much displeased with them, who would not have images (either painted or carved, gold or silver) worshipt in Churches; nor with them, who doubted whether a no­torious wicked Priest could consecrate the Sacrament. Hereby not favouring their errour, but expressing his indignation against such Clergy-men, who by an open bad life gave occasion to this suspicion.

§. 22, He said, That the Colledges in England (which are large and stately) hindergood literature, and are receptacles of idle people: nor did he much re­gard the publick Schools, because there ambition and gain did corrupt the sincerity of all old discipline. As he did much approve of secret Confession (professing that [Page 74] he never had so much comfort from any thing as that) so he much condemned anxiety in it, and repetition. Whereas it is the custome in England, for Priests to consecrate the host, and receive it almost every day, he was content to sacrifice on Sundays and Holi-days, or some few days beside: either to gain more time for his sacred studies, and fit himself the better for his pulpit­employments, and the business of his Cathedral; or because he found that his devotion had a greater edge, when it was sharpened with intervals. And yet he would not condemn them who were minded to come to the Lords table every day. Though he was a very learned man himself, yet he did not prize that anxious and laborious fort of wisdome, which is fully attain­ed by knowledge of several sciences, and reading a multitude of books; saying oft, that the native sound constitution of mens parts, and the sincerity of their wit was lost thereby; and that they rather got a learned sort of madness, then any true incentive to Christian innocence, simplicity, and charity.

§. 23. He attributed very much to the Epistles of the H. Apostles; but when he compared them w ^th that won­dersull Majestie w ^ch is to be found in our Saviours own sayings and sermons, he thought them somewhat dry. He had very ingenuously reduced almost all the sayings of Christ to ternaries, and intended to write a book of them. He wondred that Romane Priests should be forced to say so many prayers every day; nay, though they are much employed, whether at home or in a journey: but he much approved of the performing divine service magnificently. He dissented from innu­merable opinions now commonly received in the Schools, in which he would sometimes tell his minde to his friends; but say nothing to others, lest he should [...] a double inconvenience, viz. loose his own credit, and do them no good: perhaps harm. There was no book so heretical, that he was not willing to reade over [Page 75] attentively; professing that sometimes he advantaged himself more by such, than by their works who deter­mine every question which they handle in such a man­ner, that they often flatter their leaders, and sometimes themselves.

§.24. He endured not that any one should in speaking fluently, be guided altogether by the precepts of Gram­mar (that he said, oft hindred one from speaking well) but by his reading the best authours. Which opinion brought its own punishment along with it: for though he had eloquence both by nature and education, & had wonderful store of matter in his head when he began to make a speech, yet he oft tripped in those things which Criticks are wont to take notice of. And thereupon I suppose he abstained from writing books, which I wish he had not done: for I HEARTILY DESIRE THE You have a catalogue of D ^r. Colets works in the second page of my Pre­face to this book, where I should have added, that his Commentary on the E­pistle to the Romanes, and an Epistle of his to a Cardinal (both writ with his own hand) are in the Library of S. Pauls school in London; together with the printed statutes of that school, and his last Will, copied out of the Prerogative Office, which will give some light to this Narrative. MEDITATIONS OR WORKS OF THIS MAN, IN WHAT LANGUAGE SOEVER THEY ARE PENNED.

§. 25. And now, lest you should think any thing wanting to the complete piety of D ^r. Colet, in the last place hear his afflictions. He never agreed well with his Bishop, who (to say nothing of his manners) was a su­perstitious and stubborn Scotist; & thereupon thought himself half a God. Of which sort of men, though I know some whom I will not call knaves, yet I never saw one whom I thought I might truly term a Christi­an. Neither was the Doctour acceptable to most of his own Colledge, because he was very tenacious of regu­lar discipline; and the Prebends complained that he used them as if they were Monkes, whereas indeed [...] at [Page 76] Colledge was antiently (and in old records is called) the Eastern Monastery: [ as Westmonasterium, the West­ern Monasterie.]

§. 26. But when the old Bishop (for he was four­score years of age) his hatred grew too high to be smothered, the fire brake out; and adjoyning two other Bishops as wise and virulent as himself, he began to trouble D. Colet, exhibiting articles against him to the Archbishop of Canterbury, taken out of his Sermons: 1. That he said, Images were not to be worshipped. 2. That preaching upon that passage in the Gospel, Feed, feed, feed my sheep; he expounded the first by good example, the second by sound doctrine (as other Expositors do) but in the third he differed from them; denying that the Apostles who were poor men, were commanded to feed their sheep with temporal revenue, because they had none of it themselves: & that he named somwhat else in this third place. Lastly, That by blaming those that read all or most of their sermons, (which I [...] many do now in England very cold­ly) he had obliquely taxed his Diocesan, who being a very old man was wont to do so. The Archbishop (being wel acquainted with Colets [...] in his general pra­ctise of Physick, part. 1. c. 12. Sect. 1. saith, that one of his excellencies [...] a memorie, so stupendious that be could repeat all the [...], memoriter verbatim, and never forgat any thing that he read. And that he got this by help of a medi­cine there described. Sit [...] autorem: Yet there may be some truth in it. But I take Poly­dore Vergil to be far the more credi­ble authour, who (hist lib. 26. p. [...].) gives us a large relation of D ^r. Colets life: yet [...] which you have not had in this of [...]; except that his mother was [...], that Richard Fox Bishop of Win­chester stirred up D ^r. Colet to propa­gate learning, that he studied at Cambridge as well as at Ox­ford; that he desired no honour, sought no wealth or riches, (which followed him running from them) and that for his sweet dispositions and holiness of life, he was esteemed in England al­most [...] Apostle Paul. excellencies) recei­ved the articles; but in­stead of being his Judge, became his Ad­vocate.

[Page 77] §. 27. Yet the old mans [...] did not end so, but stroveto incense the Court against him, especially K. Hen­ry VIII. himself; because the Doctor had said in a ser­mon, That an unjust peace was to be preferred before a most just war: which sermon was preached in that nick of time, when the king was raising forces against the French. Two minim-Friars were the chief men that ma­naged this business, whereof one was an incendiary of the war (for which he deserved a Bishoprick) the o­ther with a pair of huge lungs, declamed in his sermons against Poets, thereby aiming at Colet, who though he had skil in musick, yet was in truth averse from Poetry.

§. 28. Here the King (who was an excellent per­son in his youth) gave an evident proof of his royal parts; exhorting Colet privately, to go on in his preaching, freely to tax the corrupt manners of that age, and not to withdraw his light in those most dark times; adding, That he knew very well what incensed the Bishops so highly against him, and how much good Colet had done by his divine life, and holy doctrine to the English Church and Nation; lastly, that he would so curb their endeavours, that it should ap­pear to the world, who [...] troubled Colet, should not escape unpunisht. Hereupon Colet humbly thanked the King for His royal favour; but beseeched Him not to do so; professing that he had rather lay down his preferment, than that any should suffer for his sake.

§. 29. But soon after another occasion was offered, by which they hoped to ruine him. For it happened that the King made preparation to march after Easter against the French: and upon Good-Friday Colet made a sermon to the King and Courtiers, which was much admired, concerning the Victory of Christ: Wherein he exhorted all Christians to fight under the banner of their heavenly King, and overcome: saying, That they who either through hatred, or ambition, or covetousnes do fight with evil men, and so kil one another, fight not under the banner of Christ, but the Devil; shewing [Page 78] withall how hard a thing it is to die like a Christian, how few go forth to battell free from hatred and co­vetousness; and how difficult for such to be in charity (without which no man shall see God) who sheath their swords in their brethrens bowels. Adding, that they should rather imitate their King Christ, then Pa­gan Cesars and Alexanders. And he had so many other [...] passages to this purpose, that His Majestie was somewhat afraid lest this sermon would dis hearten the souldiers that were listed.

§. 30. Hereupon all the birds of prey flockt about Colet like an owl, hoping the King would be incensed against him. His Majestie commands Colet to come be­fore him at Greenwich. He goes into the garden of the Monastery of the Franciscans which was near, pre­sently dismisseth his attendants. When they two [...] alone, the King bid Colet cover his head, and speak his minde freely; and then His Highness began thus; Dean, be not surprized with needless fear: I did not send for you hither to disturb your most holy labours (which I re­solve to cherish as much as I can) but to unload my consci­ence of [...] scruples, and to desire your advice concerning my [...]. The conference lasted almost an hour & an half, and I must not relate it all. In the mean while Bricot (the Franciscan Bishop) was in the Court stark wilde, hoping that Colet had been in great danger, whereas the King and he agreed in every particular very well. Onely His Majestie wisht, that what Colet spoke truly, he would speak (sometime or other) more plainly; lest the rude souldiers should mis-understand it, as if he had said, That no war is lawfull among Christians. And thus Colet (by his singular prudence & moderation) not onely satisfied the King, but got farther into his favour.

§. 31. When they returned from the garden to the Court, the King being about to dismiss Colet, called for a cup, and drank to him, embraced him most kindly, and promising him all the favours that could be expect­ed [Page 79] from a most loving Prince, dismissed him. And now the Courtiers standing round the King, expected to know the issue of this long conference; and the King in the hearing of them all, said, Well, let other men choose what Doctours they please, and make much of them; this man shall be my Doctour. Whereupon Bricot, with the rest of the gaping wolves departed: and from that day forward never dared trouble Colet any more; a person that in an high fortune and plenty, was led & governed not by his nature, but by Christ: in a word, whom I shall not doubt to reckon in the catalogue of my Saints, though he be never canonized by any Pope.

§. 32. Thus far Erasmus: who in other epistles and di­vers pieces of his works, inserteth elogies of D ^r. Colet, so ofien (as epist. p. 619. d. & p. 311. b. lib. 5. ep. 4. p 306. f. &c.) that they seem too numerous to be added here: I shall onely annex a few lines collected out of Stow's Survey of London (in folio) concerning his kinred. His Father, S ^t. Hen. Colet (son to Robert Colet of Wendover in Buckinghamshire, Esquire, p. 573.) was buried at Step­ney, where his monument still remains, p 787. And the pictures of S ^r. Henry, and his dame Christian, and ten of his sons, and ten of his daughters remain in the windows, on the North-side of S. Anthony (aliàs Antlin) his Church near Budge-row. But he was born in the Manor of Hale in Buckinghamshire, near Wendover and Ailesburie: which Manor our D ^r, left to S. Pauls school, and some of his name dwell there still. M ^r. John Colet (now a student in the Temple) and his Father, as also M ^r. Nic. Ferrar of little Gidding in Huntingdonshire, are all very nearly re­lated to our Doctour; of whom I shall onely say this, that they were all three Fellow-Commoners in Clare-Hall, diligent frequenters of the Chappel: And M ^r. Ferrar would, in the opinion of all that knew him, soon be as eminent for his sanctity, as our Doctour is, if his and my knowing and pious friend M ^r. Timothy [...], would be per­swaded to write his life.

[Page 80] §. 33. D ^r. Colet was buried in S. Pauls Church, where his monument is so excellently described by my learn­ed friend M ^r. Dugdale in his History of S. Pauls Cathe­dral. p. 64, 65. that I shall not set [...] any thing of it here, but the words that be there engraven; which are as followeth: Hìc situs est, &c. Here lies John Colet, Dean of this Church, an eminent Divine, who after the ex­ample of S. Paul, preached the Gospel always That he did this Erasmus witnesseth, Epist. Dedic. ad [...]: Verborum. Hoc in patriam officium, Colete. it a gratuitum & [...] esse voluisti, ut nec [...] annorum [...], vel [...] sactus [...] ditior; cúmque [...] spiritua­lia, nullius unquam [...]. And that in this rare act he did no more then his duty, no more then holy Scripture, and the old Canons of the Church (which in this Sermon he urgeth so much, to be rehearsed and obeyed by others) re­quired of him, who had a good estate beside; is ananswerably proved by Spalato De Eccles. repub. lib. 9. cap. 1. sect. 8. ad 16. & sect. 24. ad 31. capite 4 ^o. toto. [...] 5'. cap. 7. sect. 8. &c. but chiefly cap. 10. sect. 1, 2, 3, &c. Having said to much on this subject already in my notes on D ^r. Colets sermon, pag. 38, 39, 43, 44, 45., 52 53, 54, 56, 57. I shall close all withone. line of S. Chrysostome (Homil. 15. ad 1. Tim. pag. 312. [...]. 22. Edit. Savil.) [...]. without charges, and answered that fincere doctrine with the perpe­tual fincerity of his life. He alone [...] S. Pauls school, and [...] it with a yearly revenue. He honoured his most honest kinred with Christian qualities, chiefly with ad­mirable sobriety and chastity: and now enjoyes the pearl of the Gospel, for love whereof he neglected all other things. He lived 53 years, [...] 16 years, and died in the year 1519.