Ex Libris Gulielrni Kenneth
Macrorie;D.D. Episcopi Can-
•onici Eliensis qui migravit
ab L uce XVI? Kal.Och nrvcmv
anno LXXV2 oefextis suoe

iral Li'

ECCLESIASTICAL BIOGRAPHY ;

OR,

LIVES OF EMINENT MEN,

CONNECTED WITH THE

HISTORY OF RELIGION IN ENGLAND;

FROM THE

COMMENCEMENT OF THE REFORMATION
TO THE REVOLUTION ;

SELECTED AND ILLUSTRATED WITH

NOTES,

BY

CHRISTOPHER WORDSWORTH, D.D.

LATE MASTER OF TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE,
AND RECTOR OF BUXTED, WITH UCKFIELD, SUSSEX.

WITH MANY ADDITIONAL HISTORICAL AND BIOGRAPHICAL NOTES.

IN FOUR VOLUMES.

VOL. IV.

LONDON:
FRANCIS & JOHN EIVINGTON,

ST. PAUL'S CHURCH YARD, AND WATERLOO PLACE.

1853.

LONDON t

GILBliUT AND UIVINGTON, PRINTER-*,
ST. JOHN'S SQUARE.

CONTENTS OF VOL. IV.

PAGE

I. GEORGE HERBERT Isaac Walton. 1

II. SIR HENRY WOTTON Isaac Walton. 65

III. NICHOLAS FERRAR Dr. Peckard. 117

IV. BISHOP HALI Himself. 265

V. DR. HENRY HAMMOND Bishop Fell. 327

VI. BISHOP SANDERSON Isaac Walton. 409

VII. RICHARD BAXTER Himself. 489

VIII. SIR MATTHEW HALE Bishop Burnet. 521

IX. EARL OF ROCHESTER Bishop Burnet. 599

X. ARCHBISHOP TILLOTSON Anonymous. 677

INDEX 727

We exhort all that desire to be saved in the day of the Lord Jesus, that
they decline from these horrid doctrines of the Papacy, which in their birth
are new, in their growth are scandalous, in their proper consequents are infi-
nitely dangerous to their souls. — But therefore it is highly fit that they should
also perceive their own advantages, and give God praise that they are
removed from such infinite dangers, by the holy precepts, and holy faith
taught and commanded in the Church of England and Ireland ; in which the
Word of God is set before them as a lantern to their feet, and a light unto
their eyes ; and the Sacraments are fully administered according to Christ's
institution; and Repentance is preached according to the measures of the
Gospel; and Faith in Christ is propounded according to the rule of the
Apostles, and the measures of the Churches Apostolical ; and Obedience to
kings is greatly and sacredly urged ; and the authority and order of Bishops is
preserved, against the usurpation of the Pope, and the invasion of Schis-
matics and Aerians, new and old ; and Truth and Faith to all men is kept
and preached to be necessary and inviolable ; and the Commandments are
expounded with just severity and without scruples; and Holiness of Life
is urged upon all men as indispensably necessary to salvation, and therefore
without any allowances, tricks, and little artifices of escaping from it by
easy and imperfect doctrines ; and every thing is practised which is useful to
the saving of our souls; and Christ's Merits and Satisfaction are entirely
relied upon for the pardon of our sins ; and the necessity of Good Works is
universally taught; and our Prayers are holy, unblameable, edifying, and
understood ; are according to the measures of the Word of God, and the
practice of all Saints. — In this Church, the children are duly Baptized ; and
the baptized in their due time are Confirmed ; and the confirmed are Com-
municated; and Penitents are absolved, and the impenitents punished and
discouraged ; and Holy Marriage in all men is preferred before unclean
concubinate in any ; and nothing is wanting that God and his Church hath
made necessary to salvation.

BISHOP TAYLOR.

GEORGE HERBERT.

VOL. IV.

The world o'erlooks him in her husy search

Of objects more illustrious in her view;

And occupied as earnestly as she,

Though more sublimely, he o'erlooks the world.

She scorns his pleasures, for she knows them not :

He seeks not her's, for he has found them vain.

Not slothful he, though seeming unemployed,

And censured oft as useless.

Perhaps the self-approving haughty world
Receives advantage from his noiseless hours
Of which she little dreams. Perhaps she owes
Her sunshine and her rain, her blooming spring
And plenteous harvests to the prayer he makes,
Thinking for her who thinks not for herself.

COWPER.

INTRODUCTION.

IN a late retreat from the business of this world, and those many
little cares with which I have too often cumbered myself, I fell
into a contemplation of some of those historical passages that are
recorded in sacred story; and, more particularly, of what had
passed betwixt our blessed Saviour, and that wonder of women,
and sinners, and mourners, saint Mary Magdalen. I call her
saint, because I did not then, nor do now consider her, as when
she was possest with seven devils ; not as when her wanton eyes,
and dishevelled hair, were designed and managed, to charm and
insnare amorous beholders : but, I did then, and do now consider
her, as after she had exprest a visible and sacred sorrow for her
sensualities ; as, after those eyes had wept such a flood of peni-
tential tears as did wash, and that hair had wiped, and she most
passionately kist the feet of her and our blessed Jesus. And, I
do now consider, that because she loved much, not only much was
forgiven her ; but that, beside that blessed blessing of having her
sins pardoned, and the joy of knowing her happy condition, she
also had from him a testimony, that her alabaster box of precious
ointment poured on his head and feet, and that spikenard, and
those spices that were by her dedicated to embalm and preserve
his sacred body from putrefaction, should so far preserve her own
memory, that these demonstrations of her sanctified love, and of
her officious and generous gratitude, should be recorded and
mentioned wheresoever his gospel should be read; intending
thereby, that as his, so her name should also live to succeeding
generations, even till time itself shall be no more.

Upon occasion of which fair example, I did lately look back,
and not without some content (at least to myself) that I have
endeavoured to deserve the love, and preserve the memory of my
two deceased friends, Dr. Donne, and sir Henry Wotton, by

B 2

4 INTRODUCTION.

declaring the several employments and various accidents of their
lives : and, though Mr. George Herbert (whose life I now intend
to write) were to me a stranger as to his person, for I have only
seen him ; yet, since he was, and was worthy to be their friend,
and very many of his have been mine, I judge it may not be
unacceptable to those that knew any of them in their lives, or do
now know them, by mine, or their own writings, to see this con-
junction of them after their deaths ; without which, many things
that concerned them, and some things that concerned the age in
which they lived, would be less perfect, and lost to posterity.

For these reasons I have undertaken it, and if I have prevented
any abler person, I beg pardon of him, and my reader.

GEORGE HERBERT.

GEORGE HERBERT was born the third day of April, in the year
of our redemption 1593. The place of his birth was near to the
town of Montgomery, and in that castle that did then bear the
name of that town and county. That castle was then a place of
state and strength, and had been successively happy in the family
of the Herberts, who had long possest it ; and, with it, a plentiful
estate, and hearts as liberal to their poor neighbours. A family,
that hath been blest with men of remarkable wisdom, and a wil-
lingness to serve their country, and indeed, to do good to all
mankind ; for which they are eminent. But alas ! this family did
in the late rebellion suffer extremely in their estates ; and the
heirs of that castle saw it laid level with that earth that was too
good to bury those wretches that were the cause of it.

The father of our George was Richard Herbert, the son of
Edward Herbert, knight, the son of Richard Herbert, knight, the
son of the famous sir Richard Herbert, of Colebrook, in the
county of Monmouth, baronet, who was the youngest brother of
that memorable William Herbert, earl of Pembroke, that lived
in the reign of our king Edward the fourth.

His mother was Magdalen Newport, the youngest daughter of
sir Richard, and sister to sir Francis Newport, of High Arkall,
in the county of Salop, knight, and grandfather of Francis, lord
Newport *, now comptroller of his majesty's houshold. A family,
that for their loyalty, have suffered much in their estates, and
seen the ruin of that excellent structure, where their ancestors
have long lived, and been memorable for their hospitality.

1 Francis, lord Newport.'] Afterwards, in 1675, created Viscount Newport,
and in 1694, earl of Bradford: which titles, extinct in 1762, were revived in
1815, in the family of Bridgman, connected with the Newports by female
descent.

6 GEORGE HERBERT.

This mother of George Herbert (of whose person, and wisdom
and virtue, I intend to give a true account in a seasonable place)
was the happy mother of seven sons, and three daughters, which
she would often say, was Job's number, and Job's distribution ;
and, as often bless God, that they were neither defective in their
shapes, or in their reason ; and very often reprove them that did
not praise God for so great a blessing. I shall give the reader a
short account of their names, and not say much of their fortunes.

Edward, the eldest, was first made knight of the bath at that
glorious time of our late prince Henry's being installed knight of
the garter ; and after many years useful travel, and the attain-
ment of many languages, he was by king James sent ambassador
resident to the then French king, Lewis the thirteenth. There
he continued about two years ; but, he could not subject himself
to a compliance with the humours of the duke de Luines, who
was then the great and powerful favourite at court ; so that upon
a complaint to our king, he was called back into England in some
displeasure ; but at his return he gave such an honourable account
of his employment, and so justified his comportment to the duke,
and all the court, that he was suddenly sent back upon the same
embassy, from which he returned in the beginning of the reign of
our good king Charles the first, who made him first baron of
Castle- Island 2, and not long after 3 of Cherbury, in the county of
Salop. He was a man of great learning and reason, as appears
by his printed book de veritate ; and by his History of the Reign
of King Henry the Eighth, and by several other tracts.

The second and third brothers were Richard and William, who
ventured their lives to purchase honour in the wars of the Low
Countries, and died officers in that employment. Charles was
the fourth, and died fellow of New-college in Oxford. Henry was
the sixth, who became a menial servant to the crown in the days
of king James, and hath continued to be so for fifty years:
during all which time he hath been master of the revels ; a place
that requires a diligent wisdom, with which God hath blest him.
The seventh son was Thomas, who being made captain of a ship
in that fleet with which sir Robert Mansel was sent against
Algiers 4, did there shew a fortunate and true English valour. Of
the three sisters, I need not say more, than tliat they were all

3 Baron of Castle- Island '.] In Ireland. 3 Not long after.] May 7, 1629.
4 Against Algiers.'] In 1620.

GEORGE HERBERT. 7

married to persons of worth, and plentiful fortunes ; and lived to
be examples of virtue, and to do good in their generations.

I now come to give my intended account of George, who was
the fifth of those seven brothers.

George Herbert spent much of his childhood in a sweet content
under the eye and care of his prudent mother, and the tuition of
a chaplain or tutor to him, and two of his brothers, in her own
family (for she was then a widow) where he continued, till about
the age of twelve years ; and being at that time well instructed
in the rules of grammar, he was not long after commended to the
care of Dr. Neale, who was then dean of Westminster ; and by
him to the care of Mr. Ireland, who was then chief master of that
school ; where the beauties of his pretty behaviour and wit shined
and became so eminent and lovely in this his innocent age, that
he seemed to be marked out for piety, and to become the care of
heaven, and of a particular good angel to guard and guide him.
And thus he continued in that school, till he came to be perfect
in the learned languages, and especially in the Greek tongue, in
which he after proved an excellent critic.

About the age of fifteen (he being then a king's scholar,) he
was elected out of that school for Trinity college in Cambridge, to
which place he was transplanted about the year 1608; and his
prudent mother well knowing, that he might easily lose, or lessen
that virtue and innocence which her advice and example had
planted in his mind, did therefore procure the generous and
liberal Dr. Nevil 5, who was then dean of Canterbury, and master
of that college, to take him into his particular care, and pro-
vide him a tutor ; which he did most gladly undertake, for he
knew the excellencies of his mother, and how to value such a
friendship.

This was the method of his education, till he was settled in
Cambridge ; where we will leave him in his study, till I have paid
my promised account of his excellent mother ; and I will endea-
vour to make it short.

I have told her birth, her marriage, and the number of her
children, and have given some short account of them. I shall
next tell the reader, that her husband died when our George was
about the age of four years. I am next to tell that she continued

6 Dr. Nevil.'] Whose life has been written by the late archdeacon J. H.
Todd, amongst those of the other deans of Canterbury.

8 GEORGE HERBERT.

twelve years a widow : that she then married happily to a noble
gentleman8, the brother and heir of the lord Danvers earl of
Danby, who did highly value both her person and the most excel-
lent endowments of her mind.

In this time of her widowhood, she being desirous to give
Edward her eldest son, such advantages of learning, and other
education as might suit his birth and fortune, and thereby make
him the more fit for the service of his country, did at his being of
a fit age, remove from Montgomery castle with him, and some of
her younger sons to Oxford7; and, having entered Edward into
Queen's college, and provided him a fit tutor, she commended him
to his care; yet, she continued there with him, and still kept
him in a moderate awe of herself; and so much under her own
eyes, as to see and converse with him daily ; but she managed
this power over him without any such rigid sourness, as might
make her company a torment to her child; but, with such a
sweetness and compliance with the recreations and pleasures of
youth, as did incline him willingly to spend much of his time in

6 A noble gentleman."} Sir John Danvers, who was of very different opinions
from his brother, the loyal earl of Danby. He was member for the university
of Oxford in the last two parliaments of Charles I., and when the troubles
began he became an open enemy to the king, taking a commission as colonel
in the parliamentary army. He sat as one of the judges on the trial of
Charles I., and signed the warrant for his execution. Lord Clarendon says
of him, " Between being seduced, and a seducer, he became so far involved in
their councils, that he suffered himself to be applied to their worst offices,
taking it to be a high honor to sit upon the same bench with Cromwell, who
employed and contemned him at once. Nor did that party of miscreants look
upon any two men in the kingdom with that scorn and detestation as they
did upon Danvers and Mildmay." His brother, the earl of Danby, disinherited
him, but the parliament declared the will to be void. He died before the
Restoration, but his name was inserted in the act excepting him from pardon,
as if living, by which means his wealth was lost to his heir. His excellent
wife, whose influence might have saved him, was buried at Chelsea, June 8,
1627; Dr. Donne preached her funeral sermon. Sir John Danvers had no
issue by her, but by his second wife Elizabeth, grandchild and heir of sir
John Dauntsey of Lavington in Wiltshire, he had a daughter Elizabeth,
wife of the notorious Robert Villiers, second Viscount Purbeck, who professed
hatred to the name of Villiers, and took the name of Danvers. Their de-
scendants claimed unsuccessfully the earldom of Buckingham.

7 To Oxford.'] " For their education she went and dwelt in the university,
to recompence the loss of their father " (as Barnabas Oley prettily expresses
it) " by giving them two mothers." — Life of Mr. George Herbert, signat. K 9,
subjoined to his Country Parson.

GEORGE HERBERT. 9

the company of his dear and careful mother ; which was to her
great content; for, she would often say, "That as our bodies
take a nourishment suitable to the meat on which we feed ; so,
our souls do as insensibly take in vice by the example or conver-
sation with wicked company :" and, would therefore, as often say,
" That ignorance of vice was the best preservation of virtue : and,
that the very knowledge of wickedness was as tinder to inflame
and kindle sin, and to keep it burning." For these reasons she
endeared him to her own company ; and continued with him in
Oxford four years : in which time, her great and harmless wit,
her cheerful gravity, and her obliging behaviour, gained her an
acquaintance and friendship with most of any eminent worth and
learning, that were at that time in or near that university ; and
particularly, with Mr. John Donne, who then came accidentally
to that place, in this time of her being there : it was that John
Donne who was after doctor Donne, and dean of Saint Pauls,
London : and he at his leaving Oxford, writ and left there in verse
a character of the beauties of her body and mind. Of the first,
he says,

" No spring nor summer-beauty, has such grace
As I have seen in an autumnal face."

Of the latter he says,

" In all her words to every hearer fit
You may at revels, or at council sit."

The rest of her character may be read in his printed poems,
in that elegy which bears the name of the Autumnal Beauty.
For both he and she were then past the meridian of man's life.

This amity, begun at this time, and place, was not an amity
that polluted their souls ; but, an amity made up of a chain of
suitable inclinations and virtues ; an amity, like that of St. Chry-
sostonVs to his dear and virtuous Olympias ; whom, in his letter
he calls his saint : or, an amity indeed more like that of St.
Hierom to his Paula ; whose affection to her was such, that he
turned poet in his old age, and then made her epitaph ; wishing
all his body were turned into tongues, that he might declare her

just praises to posterity. And this amity betwixt her and Mr.

Donne, was begun in a happy time for him, he being then near to
the fortieth year of his age (which was some years before he

10 GEORGE HERBERT.

entered into sacred orders) : a time, when his necessities needed
a daily supply for the support of his wife, seven children, and a
family : and in this time she proved one of his most bountiful
benefactors : and he, as grateful an acknowledger of it. You
may take one testimony for what I have said of these two worthy
persons, from this following letter, and sonnet.

u Madam,

" Your favours to me are every where : I use them, and have
them. I enjoy them at London, and leave them there ; and yet,
find them at Mitcham. Such riddles as these become things
unexpressible, and, such is your goodness. I was almost sorry to
find your servant here this day, because I was loth to have any
witness of my not coming home last night, and indeed of my
coming this morning : but, my not coming was excusable, because
earnest business detained me ; and my coming this day, is by the
example of your St. Mary Magdalen, who rose early upon Sun-
day, to seek that which she loved most ; and so did I. And,
from her and myself, I return such thanks as are due to one to
whom we owe all the good opinion, that they whom we need most,
have of us. By this messenger, and on this good day, I com-
mit the inclosed holy hymns and sonnets (which for the matter,
not the workmanship, have yet escaped the fire) to your judg-
ment, and to your protection too, if you think them worthy of it :
and I have appointed this inclosed sonnet to usher them to your
happy hand.

" Your unworthiest servant,

" unless, your accepting him to be so,
" have mended him,

"Mitcham, July 11, 1607. "Jo. DONNE."

To the Lady Magdalen Herbert ; of St. Mary Magdx!, i> .

Her of your name, whose fair inheritance

Hethina was, and jointure Magdalo ;
An active faith so highly did advance,

That she once knew, more than the church did know,
The resurrection ; so much good there is

Deliver'd of her, that some fathers be
Loth to believe one woman could do this ;

But, think these Magdalens were two or three.

GEORGE HERBERT. 11

Increase their number, lady, and their fame :

To their devotion and your innocence :
Take so much of th' example, as of the name ;

The latter half; and in some recompence
That they did harbour Christ himself, a guest,
Harbour these hymns, to his dear name addrest.

J. D.

These hymns are now lost to us ; but, doubtless, they were
such, as they two now sing in heaven.

There might be more demonstrations of the friendship, and the
many sacred endearments betwixt these two excellent persons (for
I have many of their letters in my hand) and much more might
be said of her great prudence and piety : but, my design was not
to write her's, but the life of her son ; and therefore I shall only
tell my reader, that about that very day twenty years that this
letter was dated, and sent her, I saw and heard this Mr. John
Donne, (who was then dean of St. Paul's) weep, and preach her
funeral sermon, in the parish-church of Chelsea near London,
where she now rests in her quiet grave : and, where we must now
leave her, and return to her son George, whom we left in his
study in Cambridge.

And in Cambridge we may find our George Herbert's behaviour
to be such, that we may conclude, he consecrated the first-fruits
of his early age to virtue, and a serious study of learning. And
that he did so, this following letter and sonnet which were in the
first year of his going to Cambridge sent his dear mother for a
new-year's gift, may appear to be some testimony.

— " But I fear the heat of my late ague hath dried up those
springs, by which scholars say, the Muses use to take up their
habitations. However, I need not their help, to reprove the
vanity of those many love-poems, that are daily writ and conse-
crated to Venus ; nor to bewail that so few are writ, that look
towards God and heaven. For my own part, my meaning (dear
mother) is in these sonnets, to declare my resolution to be, that
my poor abilities in poetry, shall be all, and ever consecrated to
God's glory : and I beg you to receive this as one testimony."

My God, where is that ancient heat towards thee,
Wherewith whole shoals of martyrs once did burn,

Besides their other flames ? Doth poetry
Wear Venus' livery ? only serve her turn ?

12 GEORGE HERBERT.

Why are not sonnets made of thee ? and lays

Upon thine altar burnt ? Cannot thy love
Heighten a spirit to sound out thy praise

As well as any she ? Cannot thy dove
Out-strip their Cupid easily in flight ?

Or, since thy ways are deep, and still the same,

Will not a verse run smooth that bears thy name !
Why doth that fire, which by thy power and might

Each breast does feel, no braver fuel choose

Than that, which one day worms may chance refuse ?
Sure, Lord, there is enough in thee to dry

Oceans of ink ; for, as the deluge did
Cover the earth, so doth thy majesty :

Each cloud distils thy praise, and doth forbid
Poets to turn it to another use.

Roses and lilies speak thee ; and to make
A pair of cheeks of them, is thy abuse.

Why should I women's eyes for chrystal take ?
Such poor invention burns in their low mind

Whose fire is wild, and doth not upward go

To praise, and on thee, Lord, some ink bestow.
Open the bones, and you shall nothing find

In the best face but filth ; when, Lord, in thee

The beauty lies, in the discovery.

G. H.

This was his resolution at the sending this letter to his dear
mother ; about which time, he was in the seventeenth year of his
age : and as he grew older, so he grew in learning, and more and
more in favour both with God and man ; insomuch, that in this
morning of that short day of his life, he seemed to be marked out
for virtue, and to become the care of heaven ; for God still kept
his soul in so holy a frame, that he may, and ought to be a pattern
of virtue to all posterity, and especially, to his brethren of the
clergy ; of which the reader may expect a more exact account in
what will follow.

I need not declare that he was a strict student, because, that
he was so, there will be many testimonies in the future part of liis
life. I shall therefore only tell, that he was made batchelor of
arts in the year 1611 ; major fellow of the college, March 15,
1615 ; and that, in that year, he was also made master of arts,
he being then in the 22d year of his age ; during all which time.
all, or the greatest diversion from his study, was the practice of
music, in which he became a great master ; and of which, he
would say, " That it did relieve his drooping spirits, compose his

GEORGE HERBERT. 13

distracted thoughts, and raised his weary soul so far above earth,
that it gave him an earnest of the joys of heaven," before he pos-
sest them. And it may be noted, that from his first entrance
into the college, the generous Dr. Nevil was a cherisher of his
studies, and such a lover of his person, his behaviour, and the
excellent endowments of his mind, that he took him often into
his own company ! by which he confirmed his native gentleness.
And if during this time he exprest any error, it was that he kept
himself too much retired, and at too great a distance with all his
inferiors ; and his cloaths seemed to prove that he put too great
a value on his parts and parentage.

This may be some account of his disposition, and of the
employment of his time till he was master of arts, which was
anno 1615, and in the year 1619 he was chosen orator for the
university. His two precedent orators were sir Robert Nanton
and sir Francis Nethersoll. The first was not long after made
secretary of state ; and sir Francis, not very long after his being
orator, was made secretary to the lady Elizabeth, queen of
Bohemia. In this place of orator our George Herbert con-
tinued eight years, and managed it with as becoming and grave a
gaiety as any had ever before or since his time. For he had
acquired great learning, and was blest with a high fancy, a civil
and sharp wit, and with a natural elegance both in his behaviour,
his tongue, and his pen. Of all which there might be very many
particular evidences ; but I will limit myself to the mention of
but three.

And the first notable occasion of shewing his fitness for this
employment of orator was manifested in a letter to King James,
upon the occasion of his sending that university his book, called
Basilicon Doron 8 ; and their orator was to acknowledge this great
honour, and return their gratitude to his majesty for such a
condescension ; at the close of which letter he writ,

" Quid Vaticanam Bodleianamque objicis hospes !
Unicus est nobis bibliotheca liber."

This letter was writ in such excellent Latin, was so full of
conceits, and all the expressions so suited to the genius of the
king, that he inquired the orator's name, and then asked William

8 Basilicon Doron.'] The original, written in James's own hand, is preserved
amongst the royal manuscripts in the British Museum.

14 GEORGE HERBERT.

earl of Pembroke if lie knew him ? whose answer was, " That he
knew him very well, and that he was his kinsman ; but he loved
him more for his learning and virtue than for that he was of his
name and family." At which answer the king smiled, and asked
the earl leave "that he might love him too ; for he took him to
be the jewel of that university."

The next occasion he had and took to shew his great abilities
was, with them, to shew also his great affection to that church in
which he received his baptism, and of which he profest himself a
member; and the occasion was this. There was one Andrew
Melvin9, a minister of the Scotch church, and rector of St.
AndrewX who, by a long and constant converse with a discon-
tented part of that clergy which opposed episcopacy, became at
last to be a chief leader of that faction ; and had proudly ap-
peared to be so to king James, when he was but king of that
nation ; who the second year after his coronation in England
convened a part of the bishops and other learned divines of his
church to attend him at Hampton Court, in order to a friendly
conference with some dissenting brethren, both of this and the
church of Scotland ; and he being a man of learning, and inclined
to satirical poetry, had scattered many malicious bitter verses
against our liturgy, our ceremonies, and our church government ;
which were by some of that party so magnified for the wit, that
they were therefore brought into Westminster school, where
Mr. George Herbert then, and often after, made such answers
to them, and such reflexion on him and his kirk, as might
unbeguile any man that was not too deeply pre-engaged in such

a quarrel. But to return to Mr. Melvin at Hampton Court

conference : he there appeared to be a man of an unruly wit, of a
strange confidence, of so furious a zeal, and of so ungoverned
passions, that his insolence to the king and others at this con-
ference lost him both his rectorship of St. Andrew"^ and his
liberty too ; for his former verses, and his present reproaches
there used against the church and state, caused him to be com-
mitted prisoner to the Tower of London, where he remained
very angry for three years. At which time of his commitment
he found the lady Arabella l an innocent prisoner there ; and he
pleased himself much in sending, the next day after his commit-

9 Melvin.'] Or Melville, the follower and successor of John Knox.
1 The lady Arabella.'] Lady Arabella Stuart.

GEORGE HERBERT. 15

ment, these two verses to the good lady 2, which I will under-
write, because they may give the reader a taste of his others,
which were like these 3.

" Causa tibi mecum est communis carceris, Ara-
Bella tibi causa est, Araque sacra mini."

I shall not trouble my reader with an account of his enlarge-
ment from that prison, or his death ; but tell him, Mr. Herbert's
verses were thought so worthy to be preserved, that Dr. Duport,
the learned dean of Peterborough, hath lately collected, and
caused many of them to be printed, as an honourable memorial
of his friend Mr. George Herbert and the cause he undertook.

And in order to my third and last observation of his great
abilities, it will be needful to declare, that about this time king
James came very often to hunt at New- Market and Royston ;
and was almost as often invited to Cambridge, where his enter-
tainment was comedies suited to his pleasant humour, and where
Mr. George Herbert was to welcome him with gratulations, and
the applauses of an orator ; which he always performed so well
that he still grew more into the king's favour, insomuch that he
had a particular appointment to attend his majesty at Royston,
where, after a discourse with him, his majesty declared to his
kinsman, the earl of Pembroke, " That he found the orator's
learning and wisdom much above his age or wit." The year
following, the king appointed to end his progress at Cambridge,
and to stay there certain days ; at which time he was attended
by the great secretary of nature and all learning, sir Francis
Bacon (lord Verulam) and by the ever memorable and learned
Dr. Andrews, bishop of Winchester, both of which did at that
time begin a desired friendship with our orator. Upon whom the
first put such a value on his judgment, that he usually desired his
approbation before he would expose any of his books to be

2 To the good lady.'] Rather to her husband, William Seymour, afterwards
marquis of Hertford, who, as it is well known, was imprisoned for marrying
her without the king's consent. Arabella Stuart was first cousin to James I.,
who was jealous, and not without reason, of her rights to the throne of England.
Her story is best told by lady Theresa Lewis in The Gallery of Lord Chancellor
Clarendon and his Contemporaries, vol. i.

3 Like these.'] Fuller, in his Church History, gives the lines thus :

" Causa mihi tecum communis carceris, Ara
Regia Bella tibi, regia sacra mihi."

16 GEORGE HERBERT.

printed ; and thought him so worthy of his friendship, that
having translated many of the prophet David's Psalms into
English verse, he made George Herbert his patron, by a public
dedication of them to him, as the best judge of divine poetry.
And for the learned bishop, it is observable that at that time
there fell to be a modest debate betwixt them two, about predes-
tination and sanctity of life ; of both which the orator did not
long after send the bishop some safe and useful aphorisms, in a
long letter written in Greek ; which letter was so remarkable for
the language and reason of it, that after the reading it, the bishop
put it into his bosom, and did often shew it to many scholars,
both of this and foreign nations ; but did always return it back to
the place where he first lodged it, and continued it so near his
heart till the last day of his life.

To these I might add the long and entire friendship betwixt
him and sir Henry Wotton, and doctor Donne, but I have pro-
mised to contract myself, and shall therefore only add one testi-
mony to what is also mentioned 4 in the life of doctor Donne ;
namely, that a little before his death he caused many seals to be
made, and in them to be engraven the figure of Christ crucified
on an anchor (the emblem of hope,) and of which Dr. Donne

would often say, Crux mihi ancliora. These seals he gave or

sent to most of those friends on which he put a value ; and at
Mr. Herberts death these verses were found wrapt up with that
seal which was by the doctor given to him.

" When my dear friend could write no more,
He gave this seal, and so gave o'er.

" When winds and waves rise highest, I am sure,
This anchor keeps my faith, that me secure."

At this time of being orator he had learnt to understand the
Italian, Spanish, and French tongues very perfectly ; hoping that
as his predecessors, so he might in time attain the place of a
secretary of state, he being at that time very high in the king^s
favour, and not meanly valued and loved by the most eminent
and most powerful of the court nobility. This, and the love of a
court conversation, mixt with a laudable ambition to be some-
thing more than he then was, drew him often from Cambridge to
attend the king wheresoever the court was, who then gave him a

4 Alto mentioned.] At vol. iii. p. 6G7, and also, in the Life of Hooker, p. 540, n.

GEORGE HERBERT. 17

sinecure 5, which fell into his majesty's disposal, I think, by the
death of the bishop of St. Asaph. It was the same that queen
Elizabeth had formerly given to her favourite sir Philip Sidney,
and valued to be worth an hundred and twenty pounds per
annum. With this, and his annuity, and the advantage of his
college, and of his oratorship, he enjoyed his genteel humour for
cloaths and court-like company, and seldom looked towards
Cambridge, unless the king were there, but then he never failed ;
and at other times left the manage of his orator's place to his
learned friend Mr. Herbert Thorndike, who is now prebend of
Westminster.

I may not omit to tell, that he had often designed to leave the
university, and decline all study, which he thought did impair his
health ; for he had a body apt to a consumption, and to fevers,
and to other infirmities, which he judged were increased by his
studies ; for he would often say, " He had too thoughtful a
wit : a wit, like a pen-knife in too narrow a sheath, too sharp
for his body." But his mother would by no means allow him to
leave the university or to travel ; and though he inclined very
much to both, yet he would by no means satisfy his own desires
at so dear a rate as to prove an undutiful son to so affectionate a
mother, but did always submit to her wisdom. And what I have
now said may partly appear in a copy of verses in his printed
poems ; it is one of those that bears the title of Affliction : and
it appears to be a pious reflection on God's providence, and some
passages of his life, in which he says,

Whereas my birth and spirit rather took

The way that takes the town :
Thou didst betray me to a ling'ring book,

And wrap me in a gown :
I was entangled in the world of strife
Before I had the power to change my life.

Yet, for I threatened oft the siege to raise,

Not simp'ring all mine age :
Thou often didst with academic praise,

Melt and dissolve my rage :
I took the sweetened pill, till I came where
I could not go away nor persevere.

3 A sinecure.~] The place of cup-bearer to the king.
VOL. iv.

18 GEORGE HERBERT.

Yet, least perchance I should too happy be

In my unhappiness,
Turning my purge to food, thou throwest me

Into more sicknesses.

Thus doth thy power cross-bias me, not making
Thine own gifts good, yet me from my ways taking.

Now I am here, what thou wilt do with me

None of my books will shew :
I read, and sigh, and wish I were a tree,

For then sure I should grow
To fruit or shade ; at least, some bird would trust
Her houshold with me, and I would be just.

Yet, though thou troublest me, I must be meek ;

In weakness must be stout :
Well, I will change my service, and go seek

Some other master out :
Ah, my dear God ! though I am clean forgot,
Let me not love thee, if I love thee not.

G. H.

In this time of Mr. Herberts attendance and expectation of
some good occasion to remove from Cambridge to court ; God, in
whom there is an unseen chain of causes, did in a short time put
an end to the lives of two of his most obliging and most power-
ful friends, Lodowick duke of Richmond 6, and James marquis of
Hamilton7; and not long after him, king James8 died also, and
with them, all Mr. Herbert's court hopes : so that he presently
betook himself to a retreat from London, to a friend in Kent,
where he lived very privately, and was such a lover of solitariness
as was judged to impair his health more than his study had done.
In this manner of retirement he had many conflicts with himself,
whether he should return to the painted pleasures of a court life,
or betake himself to a study of divinity, and enter into sacred
orders? (to which his dear mother had often persuaded him.)
These were such conflicts as those only can know that have en-
dured them ; for ambitious desires and the outward glory of this
world are not easily laid aside; but at last God inclined him to
put on a resolution to serve at his altar.

He did at his return to London acquaint a court friend with

6 Duke of Richmond.'] Died Feb. 16, 1624-5.

7 Marquis of Hamilton.] Died March 3, 1624-5.

8 King James.] Died March 27, 1625.

GEORGE HERBERT. 19

his resolution to enter into sacred orders, who persuaded him to
alter it, as too mean an employment 9, and too much below his
birth, and the excellent abilities and endowments of his mind.
To whom he replied, " It hath been formerly judged that the
domestic servants of the King of Heaven should be of the
noblest families l on earth ; and though the iniquity of the late
times have made clergymen meanly valued, and the sacred name
of priest contemptible, yet I will labour to make it honourable,
by consecrating all my learning, and all my poor abilities, to ad-
vance the glory of that God that gave them ; knowing that I can
never do too much for him that hath done so much for me as to
make me a Christian. And I will labour to be like my Saviour,
by making humility lovely in the eyes of all men, and by following
the merciful and meek example of my dear Jesus."

This was then his resolution, and the God of constancy, who
intended him for a great example of virtue, continued him in it ;
for within that year he was made deacon, but the day when, or
by whom, I cannot learn ; but that he was about that time made
deacon is most certain ; for I find by the records of Lincoln,
that he was made prebend of Lay ton Ecclesia 2, in the diocese of
Lincoln, July 15, 1626, and that this prebend was given him by
John 3, then lord bishop of that see. And now he had a fit occa-
sion to shew that piety and bounty that was derived from his
generous mother and his other memorable ancestors; and the
occasion was this.

This Layton Ecclesia is a village near to Spalden4, in the county
of Huntingdon, and the greatest part of the parish church was
fallen down, and that of it which stood was so decayed, so little,

9 Too mean an employment.'] "And for our author (The Sweet Singer of the
Temple), though he was one of the most prudent and accomplished men of
his time, I have heard sober men censure him, as a man that did not manage
his brave parts to his best advantage and preferment, but lost himself in an
humble way. That was the phrase, I well remember." — Life of Mr. George
Herbert by Barnabas Oley, prefixed to his Country Parson.

1 Of the noblest families^ Compare Christian Institutes, vol. iii. p. 348 ;
Barrow, and n.

2 Layton Ecclesia.'] Leighton, in Huntingdonshire, five and a half miles
N.E. of Kimbolton. Dr. Zouch confounds it with Leighton Buzzard, in
Bedfordshire. Both places are attached to prebends in Lincoln.

3 JohnJ] John Williams, afterwards archbishop of York.

4 Spalden.'] Or rather, Spaldwick, about two miles from Leighton. Spal-
den, or Spalding, is in Lincolnshire.

c 2

20 GEORGE HERBERT.

and so useless, that the parishioners could not meet to perform
their duty to God in public prayer and praises ; and thus it had
been for almost twenty years, in which time there had been some
faint endeavours for a public collection to enable the parishioners
to rebuild it, but with no success till Mr. Herbert undertook it ;
and he, by his own, and the contribution of many of his kindred
and other noble friends, undertook the re-edification of it, and
made it so much his whole business, that he became restless till he
saw it finished as it now stands 5 ; being, for the workmanship, a
costly mosaic ; for the form, an exact cross ; and for the decency
and beauty, I am assured it is the most remarkable parish church
that this nation affords. He lived to see it so wainscoated as to
be exceeded by none; and by his order the reading-pew and
pulpit were a little distant from each other, and both of an equal
height ; for he would often say, " They should neither have a
precedency or priority of the other ; but that prayer and preach-
ing, being equally useful, might agree like brethren, and have an
equal honour and estimation/'*

Before I proceed farther I must look back to the time of Mr.
Herberts being made prebend, and tell the reader, that not long
after, his mother being informed of his intentions to rebuild that
church, and apprehending the great trouble and charge that he
was like to draw upon himself, his relations, and friends before it
could be finished, sent for him from London to Chelsea, (where

she then dwelt,) and at his coming, said " George, I sent for

you, to persuade you to commit simony, by giving your patron as
good a gift as he has given to you ; namely, that you give him
back his prebend ; for, George, it is not for your weak body and
empty purse to undertake to build churches." Of which he de-
sired he might have a day's time to consider, and then make her
an answer. And at his return to her the next day, when he had
first desired her blessing, and she had given it him, his next re-
quest was, " That she would, at the age of thirty- three years,
allow him to become an undutiful son, for he had made a vow to
God, that if he were able he would rebuild that church." And
then shewed her such reasons for his resolution, that she pre-
sently subscribed to be one of his benefactors, and undertook to
solicit William earl of Pembroke to become another, who sub-

5 As it now stands."} A view of the church is given in Dr. Zouch's edition
of Walton's Lives, ii. 54.

GEORGE HERBERT. 21

scribed for fifty pounds ; and not long after, by a witty and per-
suasive letter from Mr. Herbert, made it fifty pounds more. And
in this nomination of some of his benefactors, James duke of
Lenox 6, and his brother sir Henry Herbert, ought to be remem-
bered ; as also the bounty of Mr. Nicholas Farrer and Mr. Arthur
Woodnot, the one a gentleman in the neighbourhood of Layton,
and the other a goldsmith in Foster-lane, London, ought not to
be forgotten ; for the memory of such men ought to outlive their
lives. Of master Farrer I shall hereafter give an account in a
more seasonable place ; but before I proceed farther I will give
this short account of master Arthur Woodnot.

He was a man that had considered overgrown estates do often
require more care and watchfulness to preserve than get them ;
and considered that there be many discontents that riches cure
not ; and did therefore set limits to himself as to desire of wealth :
and having attained so much as to be able to shew some mercy
to the poor, and preserve a competence for himself, he dedicated
the remaining part of his life to the service of God, and to be
useful for his friends ; and he proved to be so to Mr. Herbert ;
for, beside his own bounty, he collected and returned most of the
money that was paid for the rebuilding of that church ; he kept
all the account of the charges, and would often go down to state
them, and see all the workmen paid. When I have said, that
this good man was a useful friend to Mr. Herbert's father, and to
his mother, and continued to be so to him till he closed his eyes
on his death-bed, I will forbear to say more till I have the next
fair occasion to mention the holy friendship that was betwixt him

and Mr. Herbert. From whom Mr. Woodnot carried to his

mother this following letter, and delivered it to her in a sickness
which was not long before that which proved to be her last.

A Letter of Mr. GEORGE HERBERT to Ms mother, in her sickness.

Madam,

At my last parting from you I was the better content, because
I was in hope I should myself carry all sickness out of your
family ; but since I know I did not, and that your share con-
tinues, or rather increaseth, I wish earnestly that I were again
with you : and would quickly make good my wish, but that my

fl Duke of Lenox.'] Brother of Lodowick, duke of Richmond and Lenox,
mentioned in p. 18.

22 GEORGE HERBERT.

employment does fix me here, it being now but a month to our
commencement ; wherein my absence by how much it naturally
augmenteth suspicion, by so much shall it make my prayers the
more constant and the more earnest for you to the God of all

consolation In the mean time, I beseech you to be cheerful,

and comfort yourself in the God of all comfort, who is not willing

to behold any sorrow but for sin. What hath affliction

grievous in it more than for a moment ? or why should our afflic-
tions here have so much power or boldness as to oppose the hope

of our joys hereafter ! Madam ! as the earth is but a point

in respect of the heavens, so are earthly troubles compared to
heavenly joys ; therefore, if either age or sickness lead you to
those joys, consider what advantage you have over youth and

health, who are now so near those two comforts. Your last

letter gave me earthly preferment, and I hope kept heavenly for
yourself: but would you divide and choose too? Our college
customs allow not that, and I should account myself most happy
if I might change with you ; for I have always observed the
thread of life to be like other threads or skeins of silk, full of
snarles and incumbrances : happy is he whose bottom is wound

up and laid ready for use in the New Jerusalem. For myself,

dear mother, I always feared sickness more than death, because
sickness hath made me unable to perform those offices for which
I came into the world, and must yet be kept in it ; but you are
freed from that fear, who have already abundantly discharged
that part, having both ordered your family, and so brought up
your children that they have attained to the years of discretion,
and competent maintenance. — So that now if they do not well,
the fault cannot be charged on you, whose example and care of
them will justify you both to the world and your own conscience ;
insomuch that whether you turn your thoughts on the life past or
on the joys that are to come, you have strong preservatives

against all disquiet. And for temporal afflictions, I beseech

you consider all that can happen to you are either afflictions of

estate, or body, or mind. For those of estate ; of what poor

regard ought they to be, since if we had riches we are com-
manded to give them away ? so that the best use of them is,
having, not to have them. But perhaps being above the com-
mon people, our credit and estimation calls on us to live in a
more splendid fashion. But, 0 God! how r;i>il\ i> that an-
swered, when we consider that the blessings in the holy Scripture

GEORGE HERBERT. 23

are never given to the rich but to the poor. I never find, Blessed
be the rich, or Blessed be the noble ; but Blessed be the meek,
and Blessed be the poor, and Blessed be the mourners, for they shall

be comforted. And yet, 0 God ! most carry themselves so as

if they not only not desired, but even feared to be blessed.

And for afflictions of the body, dear madam, remember the holy
martyrs of God, how they have been burnt by thousands, and
have endured such other tortures as the very mention of them
might beget amazement ; but their fiery trials have had an end ;
and yours (which praised be God are less) are not like to con-
tinue long. 1 beseech you let such thoughts as these moderate

your present fear and sorrow ; and know, that if any of your^s
should prove a Goliath-like trouble, yet you may say with David,
— That God who hath delivered me out of the paws of the lion
and bear will also deliver me out of the hands of this uncircumcised

Philistine. Lastly, for those afflictions of the soul : consider

that God intends that to be as a sacred temple for himself to
dwell in, and will not allow any room there for such an inmate

as grief, or allow that any sadness shall be his competitor.

And above all, if any care of future things molest you, remember
those admirable words of the psalmist : Cast thy care on the Lord,
and he shall nourish tJiee. (Psal. 55.) To which join that of St.
Peter, Casting all your care on the Lord, for he careth for you.

(1 Pet. v. 7.) What an admirable thing is this, that God puts

his shoulder to our burthen ! and entertains our care for us that

we may the more quietly intend his service. To conclude, let

me commend only one place more to you, (Philip, iv. 4.) St.
Paul saith there, Rejoice in the Lord always, and again I say
Rejoice. He doubles it, to take away the scruple of those that
might say, What, shall we rejoice in afflictions ? yes, I say again
Rejoice ; so that it is not left to us to rejoice or not rejoice : but
whatsoever befalls us we must always, at all times rejoice in the
Lord, who taketh care for us : and it follows in the next verse :
Let your moderation appear to all men, the Lord is at hand : be
careful for nothing. What can be said more comfortably \ trou-
ble not yourselves, God is at hand to deliver us from all or in all.
Dear madam, pardon my boldness, and accept the good
meaning of

Your most obedient son,

GEORGE HERBERT.
Trin. Coll. May 25, 1622.

24 GEORGE HERBERT.

About the year 1629, and the 34th of his age, Mr. Herbert
was seized with a sharp quotidian ague, and thought to remove it
by the change of air ; to which end he went to Woodford, in
Essex, but thither more chiefly to enjoy the company of his
beloved brother, sir Henry Herbert, and other friends then of
that family. In his house he remained about twelve months, and
there became his own physician, and cured himself of his ague,
by forbearing drink, and not eating any meat, no not mutton,
nor a hen, or pigeon, unless they were salted ; and by such a
constant diet he removed his ague, but with inconveniences that
were worse ; for he brought upon himself a disposition to rheums
and other weaknesses, and a supposed consumption. And it is
to be noted, that in the sharpest of his extreme fits he would
often say, u Lord, abate my great affliction, or increase my
patience ; but, Lord, I repine not ; I am dumb, Lord, before
thee, because thou doest it." By which, and a sanctified sub-
mission to the will of God, he shewed he was inclinable to bear
the sweet yoke of Christian discipline, both then, and in the
latter part of his life, of which there will be many true testi-
monies.

And now his care was to recover from his consumption by a
change from Woodford into such an air as was most proper to
that end. And his remove was to Dantsey, in Wiltshire, a
noble house, which stands in a choice air ; the owner of it then
was the lord Danvers 7, earl of Danby, who loved Mr. Herbert so
very much, that he allowed him such an apartment in it as might
best suit with his accommodation and liking. And in this place,
by a spare diet, declining all perplexing studies, moderate exercise,
and a cheerful conversation, his health was apparently improved
to a good degree of strength and cheerfulness : and then he
declared his resolution both to marry and to enter into the sacred
orders of priesthood. These had long been the desires of his
mother and his other relations ; but she lived not to see either,
for she died in the year 1627. And though he was disobedient
to her about Layton church, yet, in conformity to her will, he
kept his orator's place till after her death, and then presently
(1(< lined it ; and the more willingly that he might be succeed' •<!

7 The lord Danvers.] Henry Danvers, created Lord Danvers of Dantsey,
27th July, 1603, and earl of Danby in 1626. He was the founder of the
Botanic Garden at Oxford. He died in 1643, when his titles became extinct.
His brother was George Herbert's stepfather, see p. 8.

GEORGE HERBERT. 25

by his friend Robert Creighton, who is now Dr. Creighton, and
the worthy bishop of Wells.

I shall now proceed to his marriage ; in order to which it will
be convenient that I first give the reader a short view of his
person, and then an account of his wife, and of some circumstances
concerning both. — He was for his person of a stature inclining
towards tallness ; his body was very straight and so far from
being cumbered with too much flesh, that he was lean to an
extremity. His aspect was cheerful, arid his speech and motion
did both declare him a gentleman, for they were all so meek and
obliging that they purchased love and respect from all that knew
him.

These, and his other visible virtues, begot him much love from
a gentleman of a noble fortune, and a near kinsman to his friend
the earl of Danby ; namely, from Mr. Charles Danvers, of
Bainton, in the county of Wilts, esq. This Mr. Danvers, having
known him long and familiarly, did so much affect him, that he
often and publicly declared a desire that Mr. Herbert would
marry any of his nine daughters (for he had so many) but rather
his daughter Jane than any other, because Jane was his beloved
daughter. And he had often said the same to Mr. Herbert
himself ; and that if he could like her for a wife, and she him for
a husband, Jane should have a double blessing : and Mr. Danvers
had so often said the like to Jane, and so much commended
Mr. Herbert to her, that Jane became so much a Platonic as to
fall in love with Mr. Herbert unseen.

This was a fair preparation for a marriage ; but, alas ! her
father died before Mr. Herbert's retirement to Dantsey; yet
some friends to both parties procured their meeting, at which
time a mutual affection entered into both their hearts, as a
conqueror enters into a surprised city ; and love having got such
possession, governed, and made there such laws and resolu-
tions as neither party was able to resist; insomuch that she
changed her name into Herbert the third day after this first
interview.

This haste might in others be thought a love-phrensy, or worse ;
but it was not ; for they had wooed so like princes as to have
select proxies : such as were true friends to both parties, such as
well understood Mr. Herbert's and her temper of mind, and also
their estate so well before this interview, that the suddenness
was justifiable by the strictest rules of prudence ; and the more,

26 GEORGE HERBERT.

because it proved so happy to both parties ; for the eternal lover
of mankind made them happy in each other's mutual and equal
affections and compliance ; indeed so happy that there never was
any opposition betwixt them, unless it were a contest which
should most incline to a compliance with the other's desires.
And though this begot and continued in them such a mutual
love, and joy, and content, as was no way defective ; yet this
mutual content, and love, and joy, did receive a daily augmenta-
tion by such daily obligingness to each other as still added such
new affluences to the former fulness of these divine souls as was
only improvable in heaven, where they now enjoy it.

About three months after his marriage, Dr. Curie, who was
then rector of Bemerton, in Wiltshire, was made bishop of Bath
and Wells, (and not long after translated to Winchester,) and
by that means the presentation of a clerk to Bemerton did not
fall to the earl of Pembroke, (who was the undoubted patron of
it,) but to the king, by reason of Dr. Curie's advancement: but
Philip 8, then earl of Pembroke, (for William was lately dead ',)
requested the king to bestow it upon his kinsman George Herbert ;
and the king said, " Most willingly to Mr. Herbert, if it be
worth his acceptance :" and the earl as willingly and suddenly
sent it to him without seeking. But though Mr. Herbert had
put on a resolution for the clergy, yet, at receiving this presenta-
tion, the apprehension of the last great account that he was to
make for the cure of so many souls made him fast and pray often,
and consider for not less than a month ; in which time he had
some resolutions to decline both the priesthood and that living.
And in this time of considering, "He endured" (as he would
often say) " such spiritual conflicts as none can think but only
those that have endured them."

In the midst of these conflicts, his old and dear friend Mr.
Arthur Woodnot took a journey to salute him at Bainton (where
he then was with his wife's friends and relations), and was joyful
to be an eye-witness of his health, and happy marriage. And
after they had rejoiced together some few days, they took
journey to Wilton, the famous seat of the earls of Pembroke ; at
which time the king, the earl, and the whole court were th«T<>.
or at Salisbury, which is near to it. And at this time Mr.

" Philip.] A great favourite of James, who had previously created him earl
of Montgomery.
9 Lately dead.] 10th April, 1630.

GEORGE HERBERT. 2.7

Herbert presented his thanks to the earl, for his presentation to
Bemerton, but had not yet resolved to accept it, and told him
the reason why ; but that night, the earl acquainted Dr. Laud,
then bishop of London, and after archbishop of Canterbury, with
his kinsman's irresolution. And the bishop did the next day so
convince Mr. Herbert that the refusal of it was a sin ; that a
taylor was sent for to come speedily from Salisbury to Wilton,
to take measure, and make him canonical cloaths, against next
day : which the taylor did ; and Mr. Herbert being so habited,
went with his presentation to the learned Dr. Davenant, who
was then bishop of Salisbury, and he gave him institution imme-
diately (for Mr. Herbert had been made deacon some years
before), and he was also the same day (which was April 26,
1630) inducted into the good and more pleasant than healthful
parsonage of Bemerton : which is a mile from Salisbury.

I have now brought him to the parsonage of Bemerton, and to
the thirty-sixth year of his age, and must stop here, and bespeak
the reader to prepare for an almost incredible story of the great
sanctity of the short remainder of his holy life ; a life so full of
charity, humility, and all Christian virtues, that it deserves the
eloquence of St. Chrysostom to commend and declare it ! A
life that if it were related by a pen like his, there would then
be no need for this age to look back into times past for the
examples of primitive piety : for, they might be all found in the
life of George Herbert. But now, alas ! who is fit to undertake
it ! I confess I am not : and am not pleased with myself that I
must ; and profess myself amazed, when I consider how few of
the clergy lived like him then, and how many live so unlike him
now. — But, it becomes not me to censure : my design is rather
to assure the reader, that I have used very great diligence to
inform myself, that I might inform him of the truth of what
follows ; and though I cannot adorn it with eloquence, yet I
will do it with sincerity.

When at his induction he was shut into Bemerton church,
being left there alone to toll the bell, (as the law requires him :)
he staid so much longer than an ordinary time, before he returned
to those friends that staid expecting him at the church-door,
that his friend Mr. Woodnot looked in at the church-window,
and saw him lie prostrate on the ground before the altar : at
which time and place (as he after told Mr. Woodnot) he set

28 GEORGE HERBERT.

some rules to himself, for the future manage of his life ; and then
and there made a vow, to labour to keep them.

And the same night that he had his induction, he said to Mr.
Woodnot, " I now look back upon my aspiring thoughts, and
think myself more happy than if I had attained what then I so
ambitiously thirsted for. And, I can now behold the court
with an impartial eye, and see plainly, that it is made up of
frauds and titles, and flattery, and many other such empty,
imaginary, painted pleasures : pleasures, that are so empty, as
not to satisfy when they are enjoyed; but, in God and his
service, is a fulness of all joy and pleasure, and no satiety. And
I will now use all my endeavours to bring my relations and
dependants to a love and reliance on him, who never fails those
that trust him. But above all, I will be sure to live well, because
the virtuous life of a clergyman is the most powerful eloquence to
persuade all that see it to reverence and love, and at least, to
desire to live like him. And this I will do, because I know we
live in an age that hath more need of good examples, than
precepts. And I beseech that God, who hath honoured me so
much as to call me to serve him at his altar, that as by his
special grace he hath put into my heart these good desires, and
resolutions; so, he will by his assisting grace give me ghostly
strength to bring the same to good effect. And I beseech him
that my humble and charitable life may so win upon others, as to
bring glory to my Jesus, whom I have this day taken to be my
master and governor ; and I am so proud of his service, that I
will always observe, and obey, and do his will ; and always call
him Jesus my master1 ; and I will always contemn my birth, or
any title or dignity that can be conferred upon me, when I shall
compare them with my title of being a priest, and serving at the
altar of Jesus my master."

And that he did so, may appear in many parts of his book of
Sacred 1'oL-ms; especially in that which he calls the Odour. In

1 Jesus my master.'] " To testify his independency upon all others, and to
quicken his diligence, he used in his ordinary speech, when he made mention
of the blessed name of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, to add, My
Master.''— Printer's Preface to The Temple, or Sacred Poems, &c.

• 1 1 is motto, with which he used to conclude all things that might seem to
end any way to his own honour, was,

" Lets than the least of God's mercies."— Ibid.

GEORGE HERBERT. 29

which he seems to rejoice in the thoughts of that word Jesus, and
say that the adding these words my master to it, and the often
repetition of them, seemed to perfume his mind, and leave an
oriental fragrancy in his very breath. And for his unforced
choice to serve at God's altar, he seems in another place of his
poems (the Pearl, Matth. xiii.) to rejoice and say — " He knew
the ways of learning ; knew, what nature does willingly ; and
what when it is forced by fire : knew the ways of honour, and
when glory inclines the soul to noble expressions : knew the
court : knew the ways of pleasure, of love, of wit, of music, and
upon what terms he declined all these for the service of his
master Jesus," and then concludes, saying,

" That, through these labyrinths, not my groveling wit,
But, thy silk-twist, let down from heaven to me,
Did, both conduct, and teach me, how by it,
To climb to thee."

The third day after he was made rector of Bemerton, and had
changed his sword and silk cloathes into a canonical coat, he
returned so habited with his friend Mr. Woodnot to Bainton :
and, immediately after he had seen and saluted his wife, he said
to her — " You are now a minister's wife, and must now so far
forget your father's house, as not to claim a precedence of any of
your parishioners ; for you are to know, that a priest's wife can
challenge no precedence or place, but that which she purchases
by her obliging humility ; and, I am sure, places so purchased
do best become them. And, let me tell you, that I am so good
a herald as to assure you that this is truth." And she was so
meek a wife, "as to assure him that it was no vexing news to
her, and that he should see her observe it with a chearful willing-
ness." And indeed her unforced humility, that humility that was
in her so original as to be born with her ! made her so happy as
to do so ; and her doing so begot her an unfeigned love, and a
serviceable respect from all that conversed with her ; and this
love followed her in all places, as inseparably, as shadows follow
substances in sun-shine.

It was not many days before he returned back to Bemerton,
to view the church, and repair the chancel ; and indeed, to re-
build almost three parts of his house which was fallen down, or
decayed by reason of his predecessor's living at a better parsonage-

30 GEORGE HERBERT.

house ; namely, at Minal, sixteen or twenty miles from this place.
At which time of Mr. Herberts coming alone to Bemerton, there
came to him a poor old woman, with an intent to acquaint him
with her necessitous condition, as also with some troubles of her
mind ; but after she had spoke some few words to him, she was
surprised with a fear, and that begot a shortness of breath, so
that her spirits and speech failed her ; which he perceiving, did so
compassionate her, and was so humble, that he took her by the
hand, and said, " Speak, good mother, be not afraid to speak to
me ; for I am a man that will hear you with patience ! and will
relieve your necessities too, if I be able : and this I will do wil-
lingly, and therefore, mother, be not afraid to acquaint me with
what you desire." After which comfortable speech, he again took
her by the hand, made her sit down by him, and understanding
she was of his parish, he told her, " He would be acquainted
with her, and take her into his care :" and having with patience
heard and understood her wants (and it is some relief for a poor
body to be but heard with patience) he like a Christian clergyman
comforted her by his meek behaviour and counsel : but because
that cost him nothing, he relieved her with money too, and so
sent her home with a chearful heart, praising God, and praying
for him. Thus worthy, and (like David's blessed man) thus lowly,
was Mr. George Herbert in his own eyes : and thus lovely in the
eyes of others.

At his return that night to his wife at Bainton, he gave her an
account of the passages betwixt him and the poor woman ; with
which she was so affected, that she went next day to Salisbury,
and there bought a pair of blankets and sent them as a token of
her love to the poor woman : and with them a message, " That
she would see and be acquainted with her, when her house was
built at Bemerton."

There be many such passages both of him and his wife, of
which some few will be related ; but I shall first tell, that he
hasted to get the parish church repaired ; then to beautify the
chapel (which stands near his house) and that at his own great
charge. He then proceeded to re -build the greatest part of the
parsonage-house, which he did also very compleatly, and at his
own charge ; and having done this good work, he caused these
verses to be writ upon it. or engraven in the mantle of the chim-
ney in his hall.

GEORGE HERBERT. 31

" To my successor.

" If thou chance for to find
A new house to thy mind,

And built without thy cost :
Be good to the poor,
As God gives thee store,

And then my labour's not lost."

We will now by the reader's favour suppose him fixed at Be-
merton, and grant him to have seen the church repaired, and the
chapel belonging to it very decently adorned, at his own great
charge (which is a real truth), and having now fixed him there, I
shall proceed to give an account of the rest of his behaviour both
to his parishioners, and those many others that knew and
conversed with him.

Doubtless Mr. Herbert had considered and given rules to him-
self for his Christian carriage both to God and man, before he
entered into holy orders. And it is not unlike, but that he
renewed those resolutions at his prostration before the holy altar,
at his induction into the church at Bemerton ; but as yet he was
but a deacon, and therefore longed for the next ember-week, that
he might be ordained priest, and made capable of administering
both the sacraments. At which time, the reverend doctor
Humphrey Hinchman, now lord bishop of London (who does not
mention him, but with some veneration for his life and excellent
learning,) tells me, " He laid his hand on Mr. Herbert's head,
and (alas !) within less than three years, lent his shoulder to carry
his dear friend to his grave."

And that Mr. Herbert might the better preserve those holy
rules which such a priest as he intended to be, ought to observe ;
and, that time might not insensibly blot them out of his memory,
but that the next year might shew him his variations from this
year's resolutions ; he therefore did set down his rules, then
resolved upon, in that order, as the world now sees them printed
in a little book called, The Country Parson, in which some of his
rules are :

The Parson's Knowledge.

The Parson on Sundays.

The Parson Praying.

The Parson Preaching.

The Parson's Charity.

32 GEORGE HERBERT.

The Parson comforting the Sick.

The Parson Arguing.

The Parson Condescending.

The Parson in his Journey.

The Parson in his Mirth.

The Parson with his Churchwardens.

The Parson blessing the People.

And his behaviour toward God and man may be said to be a
practical comment on these, and the other holy rules set down in
that useful book. A book, so full of plain, prudent and useful
rules, that that country parson, that can spare twelve pence and
yet wants it, is scarce excusable ; because it will both direct him
what he ought to do, and convince him for not having done it.

At the death of Mr. Herbert, this book fell into the hands
of his friend Mr. Woodnot ; and he commended it into the
trusty hands of Mr. Barnabas Oly, who published it 3 with a most
conscientious, and excellent preface ; from which I have had some
of those truths, that are related in this life of Mr. Herbert. —
The text for his first sermon was taken out of Solomons Proverbs,
and the words were, Keep thy heart with all diligence. In which
first sermon, he gave his parishioners many necessary, holy, safe
rules for the discharge of a good conscience, both to God and man.
And delivered his sermon after a most florid manner ; both with
great learning and eloquence. But at the close of this sermon,
told them, " That should not be his constant way of preaching ;
for, since almighty God does not intend to lead men to heaven by
hard questions, he would not therefore fill their heads with unne-
cessary notions ; but, that for their sakes, his language and his
expressions should be more plain and practical in his future ser-

2 Who published it.'} The Country Parson has been lately reprinted at the
Clarendon Press, by the University of Oxford, in a volume intitled The Cler-
gyman's Instructor; which contains also Bishop Burnet's Pastoral Care,
Bishop Bull's Directions to Candidates for Holy Orders, and some other
excellent tracts on the ministerial duties ; the whole forming a very valuable
addition to the highly important services which have recently been rendered
by that University to the cause of religion, and of the Church of England in
particular, by the republication of a collection of works of our English
divines, for the use of the younger clergy, and students in theology. The
collection comprises the Homilies, Hooker's Works, Pearson on the Creed,
Stillingfleet's Origines Sacra, Barrow's Works, Walton's Lives, Wheatly on
the Common Prayer, &c. &c.

GEORGE HERBERT. 33

mons." And he then made it his humble request, that they
would be constant to the afternoon's service, and catechising.
And shewed them convincing reasons why he desired it ; and his
obliging example and persuasions brought them to a willing con-
formity to his desires.

The texts for all his future sermons (which God knows were
not many) were constantly taken out of the gospel for the day ;
and he did as constantly declare why the church did appoint that
portion of Scripture to be that day read : and in what manner
the collect for every Sunday does refer to the gospel, or to the
epistle then read to them ; and, that they might pray with under-
standing, he did usually take occasion to explain, not only the
collect for every particular Sunday, but the reasons of all the
other collects and responses in our church-service ; and made it
appear to them, that the whole service of the church was a rea-
sonable, and therefore an acceptable sacrifice to God ; as namely,
that we begin with confession of ourselves to be vile, miserable
sinners: and that we begin so, because till we have confessed
ourselves to be such, we are not capable of that mercy which
we acknowledge we need, and pray for : but having in the prayer
of our Lord, begged pardon for those sins which we have confest ;
and hoping that as the priest hath declared our absolution, so by
our public confession, and real repentance, we have obtained that
pardon ; then we dare and do proceed to beg of the Lord, to open
our lips, that our mouths may shew forth his praise ; for till then,
we are neither able nor worthy to praise him. But this being
supposed, we are then fit to say, Glory be to the Father, and to the
Son, and to the Holy Ghost ; and fit to proceed to a further service
of our God, in the collects, and psalms, and lauds that follow in
the service.

And as to these psalms and lauds, he proceeded to inform them,
why they were so often, and some of them daily repeated in our
church-service : namely, the psalms every month, because they be
an historical and thankful repetition of mercies past ; and such a
composition of prayers and praises, as ought to be repeated often,
and publickly; for with such sacrifices, God is honoured, and
well-pleased. This for the psalms.

And for the hymns and lauds, appointed to be daily repeated
or sung after the first and second lessons are read to the congre-
gation ; he proceeded to inform them, that it was most reason-
able, after they have heard the will and goodness of God declared

VOL. TV. D

34 GEORGE HERBERT.

or preached by the priest in his reading the two chapters, that it
was then a seasonable duty to rise up and express their gratitude
to almighty God for those his mercies to them, and to all man-
kind ; and then to say with the blessed Virgin, That their souls
do magnify the Lord, and that their spirits do also rejoice in God
tlwir Saviour. And that it was their duty also to rejoice with
Simeon in his song, and say with him, That their eyes have also
seen their salvation ; for, they have seen that salvation which was
but prophesyed till his time : and he then broke out into those
expressions of joy that he did see it, but, they live to see it
daily, in the history of it, and therefore ought daily to rejoice,
and daily to offer up their sacrifices of praise to their God, for
that particular mercy. A service, which is now the constant em-
ployment of that blessed Virgin, and Simeon, and all those
blessed saints that are possest of heaven : and, where they are at
this time interchangeably, and constantly singing, Holy, holy, holy

Lord God, glory be to God on high, and on earth peace. And he

taught them, that to do this was an acceptable service to God,
because the prophet David says in his psalms, He that praiseth 1l<>
Lord, hwoureth him.

He made them to understand, how happy they be that are
freed from the incumbrances of that law which our fore-fathers
groaned under ; namely, from the legal sacrifices, and from the
many ceremonies of the Levitical law ; freed from circumcision,
and from the strict observation of the Jewish Sabbath, and the
like : and he made them know, that having received so many,
and so great blessings, by being born since the days of our Sa-
viour, it must be an acceptable sacrifice to almighty God, for
them to acknowledge those blessings daily, and stand up and wor-
ship, and say as Zacharias did, Blessed be the Lord God of Israel,
for he linlli (in our days) visited and redeemed his people; and (he
hath in our days) remembered, and shewed that mercy which by the
mouth of tlie prophets lie promised to our forefathers : and this he
hath done, according to his holy covenant made with them. And
h< made them to understand that we live to see and enjoy the
benefit of it, in his birth, in his life, in his passion, his resurrec-
tion and ascension into heaven, where he now sits sensible of all
our temptations and infirmities; and where lie is at this present
time making intercession for us. to his, and our Father: and
therefore they ought daily to express their public gratulutimis.
and say daily with /;. >/ //, ///,// A//,-// God of I*

GEORGE HERBERT. 35

that hath thus visited, and thus redeemed his people. These were

some of the reasons by which Mr. Herbert instructed his congre-
gation for the use of the psalms, and the hymns appointed to be
daily sung or said in the church-service.

He informed them also, when the priest did pray only for the
congregation, and not for himself; and when they did only pray
for him, as namely, after the repetition of the creed, before he
proceeds to pray the Lord's prayer, or any of the appointed col-
lects, the priest is directed to kneel down, and pray for them,

saying The Lord be with you And when they pray for

him, saying And with thy spirit ; and then they join together

in the following collects ; and he assured them, that when there
is such mutual love, and such joint prayers offered for each other,
then the holy angels look down from heaven, and are ready to
carry such charitable desires to God almighty ; and he as ready
to receive them ; and that a Christian congregation calling thus
upon God, with one heart, and one voice, and in one reverend and
humble posture, look as beautifully as Jerusalem, that is at peace
with itself.

He instructed them also, why the prayer of our Lord was
prayed often 3 in every full service of the church ; namely, at the

3 Why the prayer of our Lord was prayed oftenJ] " Marvel not that I use
at the sermons end to make prayer, for I do it not of singularitie : but when
I am at home, and in the countrey where I goe, sometime when the poore
people come and aske it me, I appose them my selfe, or cause my servant to
appose them of the Lordes Prayer, and they aunswere some, ' I can my
Latin Pater noster;' some, ' I can the old Pater noster, but not the new.'
Therefore, that all that can it not may learne, I use before the Sermon and
after to say it. Wherefore now I beseeche you let us say it together ; Our
Father whiche art in heaven, fyc." Latimer's Sermons, fol. 100, edit. 1584.
Calvin " ever concluded his prayer before or after sermon with repeating of
the Creed and Lord's Prayer, conceiving it to be of good use to have these
often sounding in the ears of the people, as Beza tells us in writing his life."
Bernard's Life of Archbishop Usher, p. 84. " It is no wonder you are
thought a legal preacher " (says Mr. Clark, in a letter to Dr. Doddridge,
when a young man) " when you have the ten commandments painted on the
walls of your chappel : besides, you have a clerk, it seems, so impertinent as
to say Amen, with an audible voice. O tempora ! 0 mores I that such a rag
of popery should ever be tolerated in a congregation of protestant dissen-
ters : and to conclude all, you, the minister, conclude your prayers with a
form called the Lord's Prayer. — It may be you are surprised what this means.
In a few words then, Mr. Chandler of Bedford, being on his return home, at
Mr. Eccles's, desired him upon my motion to write to Hertford, to recom-
mend you to them in his name, as a very fit man to be their minister. Upon

D2

36 GEORGE HERBERT.

conclusion of the several parts of that service ; and prayed then,
not only because it was composed, and commanded by our Jesus
that made it, but as a perfect pattern for our less perfect forms
of prayer, and therefore fittest to sum up and conclude all our
imperfect petitions.

He instructed them also, that as by the second commandment
we are required, not to bow down, or worship an idol, or false
god ; so by the contrary rule, we are to bow down and kneel, or
stand up and worship the true God. And he instructed them,
why the church required the congregation to stand up at the
repetition of the creeds ; namely, because they did thereby de-
clare both their obedience to the church, and an assent to that
faith into which they had been baptized. And he taught them,
that in that shorter creed or doxology so often repeated daily,
they also stood up to testify their belief4 to be, that the God that
they trusted in was one God, and three persons ; the Father, the
Son, and the Holy Ghost ; to whom they and the priest gave glory :
and because there had been heretics that had denyed some of
these three persons to be God, therefore the congregation stood

this, two members of that congregation went the other day to Kibworth to
hear you preach : but no sooner did they come into the place but they found
themselves disappointed : and what they heard at the close confirmed them
so much in their prejudices, that they thought it needless to say any thing
of their intention to you. Going to preach last Sunday at Ware, I heard
all this there; and afterwards at Hertford." Letters to and from Dr. Dod-
dridge, p. 14.

4 To testify their belief.'] " I know a minister " (says Fuller in his Church
History, speaking of the times when the liturgy was forbidden by an ordi-
nance of the parliament, and the presbyterian directory was established) " I
know a minister who was accused for using the Gloria Patri (conforming his
practice to the directorie in all things else,) and threatened to be brought to
the committee. He pleaded the words of Mr. Cartwright in his defence,
'confessing* (Reply against IVhitgift, p. 107, sect. 4.) 'the gloria Patri
founded on just cause, that men might make their open profession in the
church of the divinity of the Son of God, against the detestable opinion of
Arius and his disciples. But now (saith he) that it hath pleased the Lord
to quench that fire, there is no such cause why those things should be
used.' But seeing (said the minister) it hath pleased God for our sins to
condemn us to live in so licentious an age, wherein the divinity both of
('hrist and the Holy Ghost is called frequently and publickly into question,
the same now (by Mr. Cartwright's judgment) may lawfully be used, not to
say cannot well be omitted. — I remember not that he heard any more of the
matter." Church History of Britain, Cent. 17, p. 224. Compare Hooker's
Ecclesiastical Polity, book r>, c. 42.

GEORGE HERBERT. 37

up and honoured him, by confessing, and saying, It was so in the
beginning, is now so, and shall ever be so world without end. And
all gave their assent to this belief, by standing up and saying,
Amen.

He -instructed them also, what benefit they had by the church's
appointing the celebration of holidays 5, and the excellent use of
them ; namely, that they were set apart for particular commemora-
tions of particular mercies received from almighty God ; and (as
reverend Mr. Hooker says) to be the land-marks to distinguish
times ; for by them we are taught to take notice how time passes
by us ; and, that we ought not to let the years pass without a ce-
lebration of praise for those mercies which those days give us oc-
casion to remember; and therefore they were to note that the year
is appointed to begin 6 the 25th day of March ; a day in which we
commemorate the angePs appearing to the blessed Virgin, with
the joyful tidings that she should conceive and bear a son, that
should be the redeemer of mankind ; and she did so forty weeks
after this joyful salutation ; namely, at our Christmas : a day in
which we commemorate his birth, with joy and praise ; and that

6 Celebration of holidays.'] "In the year 1643, the ministers of the city of
London met together to consult whether they should preach on the Christ-
mas-day following, as they had been wont to do, or take no notice at all of
the day. One of them, whom I shall not name, of great authority amongst
them, was against their preaching, and was very near prevailing with the rest
of his brethren to forbear. Our author " (Dr. John Lightfoot) " was at that
meeting (being at that time minister at St. Bartholomew's aforesaid), who
was so far from consenting to the advice of that person who gave it, that he
took him aside, and argued the point with him ; and did not only maintain
the lawfulness of the thing in question, but the expedience of it also : and
shewed that the omitting it would be of dangerous consequence, and would
reflect very much upon those men who made profession of no other design
but reforming what was culpable and faulty. In a word, he so far prevailed
with the company, that when it was put to the question, it was carried in the
affirmative, and there were not above four or five of the whole who dissented."
Strype's Life of Lightfoot, prefixed to his works, p. 3. See also Hooker's
Ecclesiastical Polity, book 5, c. 69. The first distaste of the celebration of
holy-days in the church of England, was contracted at Geneva. See Good-
man's How to obey, A.D. 1558, p. 158.

f) Appointed to beain.~\ " I shall observe (though perhaps every body
knows it), that we use two different computations in this nation, viz. the
common or Julian, which begins the year on the first day of January ; and
the ecclesiastical, which begins the year on the twenty-fifth of March." Ben-
net's Essay on the Thirty-nine Articles, p. 247. On this subject see the note
at vol. ii. pp. 491, 492.

38 GEORGE HERBERT.

eight days after this happy birth, we celebrate his circumcision ;
namely, that day which we call New-year's day. And that upon
that day which we call Twelfth-day, we commemorate the mani-
festation of the unsearchable riches of Jesus to the Gentiles : and
that that day we also celebrate the memory of his goodness in
sending a star to guide the three wise men from the east to
Bethlem, that they might there worship, and present him \\ith
their oblations of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. And he (Mr.
Herbert) instructed them, that Jesus was, forty days after his
birth, presented by his blessed mother in the temple ; namely,
on that day which we call the purification of the blessed virgin,
saint Mary. And he instructed them, that by the lent-fast, we
imitate and commemorate our Saviour's humiliation in fasting
forty days ; and, that we ought to endeavour to be like him in
purity. And, that on Good-friday, we commemorate and con-
dole his crucifixion. And, at Easter, commemorate his glorious
resurrection. And he taught them, that after Jesus had mani-
fested himself to his disciples, to be that Christ that was crucified,
dead and buried; and by his appearing and conversing with lii.s
disciples for the space of forty days after his resurrection, he then,
and not till then, ascended into heaven, in the sight of those disci-
ples ; namely, on that day which we call the ascension, or Holy
Thursday. And that we then celebrate the performance of the
promise which he made to his disciples, at or before his ascension ;
namely, that though he left them, yet he would send them the Holy
Ghost to be their comforter ; and that he did so on that day which

the church calls Whitsunday. Thus the church keeps an

historical and circular commemoration of times, as they pass by
us ; of such times, as ought to incline us to occasional praises,
for the particular blessings which we do, or might receive by
those holy commemorations.

He made them know also, why the church hath appointed
ember-weeks ; and, to know the reason why the commandments,
and the epistles and gospels were to be read at the altar, or com-
munion table : why the priest was to pray the litany kneeling ;
and, why to pray some collects standing ; and he gave them many
other observations, fit for his plain congregation, but not fit for
me now to mention ; for, I must set limits to my pen, and not
make that a treatise, which I intended to be a much shorter
account than I have made it. — But I have done, when I have
told the reader that lie was constant in catechising every Sunday

GEORGE HERBERT. 39

in the afternoon, and that his catechising was after the second
lesson, and in the pulpit, and that he never exceeded his half
hour, and was always so happy as to have an obedient, and a full
congregation.

And, to this I must add, that if he were at any time too
zealous in his sermons, it was, in reproving the indecencies of the
peopled behaviour, in the time of divine service ; and of those
ministers that huddled up the church-prayers, without a visible
reverence and affection; namely, such as seemed to say the
Lord's prayer, or a collect, in a breath ; but for himself, his
custom was. to stop betwixt every collect, and give the people
time to consider what they had prayed, and to force their
desires affectionately to God, before he engaged them into new
petitions.

And by this account of his diligence, to make his parishioners
understand what they prayed, and why they praised, and adored
their Creator, I hope I shall the more easily obtain the reader's
belief to the following account of Mr. Herbert's own practice,
which was, to appear constantly with his wife, and three nieces
(the daughters of a deceased sister) and his whole family, twice
every day at the church-prayers, in the chapel which does almost
join to his parsonage-house. And for the time of his appearing,
it was strictly at the canonical hours of ten and four ; and then
and there he lifted up pure and charitable hands to God in the
midst of the congregation. And he would joy to have spent that
time in that place, where the honour of his master Jesus dwelleth ;
and there, by that inward devotion which he testified constantly
by an humble behaviour, and visible adoration, he, like Joshua,
brought not only Ms own /household thus to serve the Lord ; but
brought most of his parishioners, and many gentlemen in the
neighbourhood, constantly to make a part of his congregation
twice a day. And some of the meaner sort of his parish, did so
love and reverence Mr. Herbert, that they would let their plough
rest when Mr. Herbert's saint's-bell rung to prayers, that they
might also offer their devotions to God with him : arid would
then return back to their plough. And his most holy life was
such, that it begot such reverence to God, and to him, that they
thought themselves the happier, when they carried Mr. Herbert's

blessing back with them to their labour. Thus powerful was

his reason, and example, to persuade others to a practical piety
and devotion.

And his constant public prayers did never make him to neglect

40 GEORGE HERBERT.

his own private devotions, nor those prayers that he thought him-
self bound to perform with his family, which always were a set
form, and not long ; and he did always conclude them with that
collect which the church hath appointed for the day or week. —
Thus he made every day's sanctity a step towards that kingdom
where impurity cannot enter.

His chiefest recreation was music, in which heavenly art he was
a most excellent master, and did himself compose many divine
hymns and anthems, which he set and sung to his lute or viol ;
and, though he was a lover of retiredness, yet his love to music
was such, that he went usually twice every week on certain
appointed days, to the cathedral church in Salisbury ; and at his
return would say, " That his time spent in prayer, and cathedral
music 7, elevated his soul, and was his heaven upon earth." But
before his return thence to Bemerton, he would usually sing and
play his part, at an appointed private music-meeting; and, to
justify this practice, he would often say, " Religion does not
banish mirth, but only moderates, and sets rules to it."

And, as his desire to enjoy his heaven upon earth drew him
twice every week to Salisbury, so his walks thither were the
occasion of many happy accidents to others : of which, I will
mention some few.

In one of his walks to Salisbury, he overtook a gentleman that
is still living in that city, and in their walk together, Mr. Her-
bert took a fair occasion to talk with him, and humbly begged to
be excused, if he asked him some account of his faith, and said,
" I do this the rather, because though you are not of my parish,
yet I receive tythe from you by the hand of your tenant ; and,
sir, I am the bolder to do it, because I know there be some
sermon-hearers that be like those fishes, that always live in salt
water, and*yet are always fresh."

After which expression, Mr. Herbert asked him some needful
questions, and having received his answer, gave him such rules
for the trial of his sincerity, and for a practical piety, and in so
loving and meek a manner, that the gentleman did so fall in love
with him, and his discourse, that he would often contrive to
meet him in his walk to Salisbury, or to attend him back to
Bemerton ; and still mentions the name of Mr. George Herbert
with veneration, and still praiseth God for the occasion of
Knowing him.

1 Cathedral music.'] See above, vol. i. p. 314, note.

GEORGE HERBERT. 41

In another of his Salisbury walks, he met with a neighbour
minister, and after some friendly discourse betwixt them, and
some condolement for the decay of piety, and too general contempt
of the clergy, Mr. Herbert took occasion to say,

" One cure for these distempers, would be for the clergy
themselves to keep the ember-weeks 8 strictly, and beg of their
parishioners to join with them in fasting and prayers for a more
religious clergy.

"And another cure would be, for themselves to restore the
great and neglected duty of catechizing 9, on which the salvation
of so many of the poor and ignorant lay-people does depend ; but
principally, that the clergy themselves would be sure to live
unblameably ; and that the dignified clergy especially, which
preach temperance, would avoid surfeiting, and take all occasions
to express a visible humility, and charity in their lives ; for this
would force a love and an imitation, and an unfeigned reverence
from all that knew them to be such." (And for proof of this, we
need no other testimony, than the life and death of Dr. Lake *,
late lord bishop of Bath and Wells.) "This" (said Mr. Her-
bert) " would be a cure for the wickedness and growing atheism
of our age. And, my dear brother, till this be done by us, and
done in earnest, let no man expect a reformation of the manners
of the laity : for it is not learning, but this, this only, that must
do it ; and till then, the fault must lie at our doors."

In another walk to Salisbury, he saw a poor man, with a
poorer horse, that was fallen under his load. They were both in
distress, and needed present help ; which Mr. Herbert perceiving,
put off his canonical coat, and helped the poor man to unload, and
after, to load his horse. The poor man blest him for it ; and he
blest the poor man ; and was so like the good Samaritan, that he
gave him money to refresh both himself and his horse ; and told
him, " That if he loved himself, he should be merciful to his

beast." Thus he left the poor man, and at his coming to his

musical friends at Salisbury, they began to wonder that Mr.
George Herbert, which used to be so trim and clean, came into

8 To keep the ember-weeks."] See vol. iii. Life of Hooker, p. 526, or Index,
under Ember-weeks.

9 Duty of catechizing.'] See above, Life of Colet,vo\. i. p. 438, n. See also
Index, under Catechizing.

1 Of Dr. Lake..'] See a Short View of the Life and Virtues of Dr. Arthur
Lake, Bishop of Bath and Wells, prefixed to his Sermons, fol. 1 629.

42 GEORGE HERBERT.

that company so soiled and discomposed ; but he told them the
occasion : and when one of the company told him, " He had dis-
paraged himself by so dirty an employment ;" his answer was,
" That the thought of what he had done, would prove music to
him at midnight ; and that the omission of it would have
upbraided and made discord in his conscience, whensoever he
should pass by that place ; for, if I be bound to pray for all that
be in distress, I am sure that I am bound so far as it is in my
power to practise what I pray for. And though I do not wish
for the like occasion every day, yet let me tell you, I would not
willingly pass one day of my life without comforting a sad soul,
or shewing mercy ; and I praise God for this occasion : — and now
let's tune our instruments."

Thus, as our blessed Saviour after his resurrection did take
occasion to interpret the Scripture to Cleophas and that other
disciple, which he met with and accompanied in their journey to
Emmaus ; so Mr. Herbert, in his path toward heaven, did daily
take any fair occasion to instruct the ignorant, or comfort any
that were in affliction ; and did always confirm his precepts,
by shewing humility and mercy, and ministering grace to the
hearers.

And he was most happy in his wife's unforced compliance with
his acts of charity, whom he made his almoner, and paid con-
stantly into her hand a tenth penny of what money he received
for tythe, and gave her power to dispose that to the poor of his
parish, and with it a power to dispose a tenth part of the corn
that came yearly into his barn ; which trust she did most faith-
fully perform, and would often offer to him an account of her stew-
ardship, and as often beg an enlargement of his bounty, for she
rejoiced in the employment ; and this was usually laid out by her
in blankets and shoes, for some such poor people, as she knew to
stand in most need of them. This, as to her charity. — And for
his own, he set no limits to it ; nor did ever turn his face from
any that he saw in want, but would relieve them; especially his
poor neighbours ; to the meanest of whose houses he would go
and inform himself of their wants, and relieve them cheerfully if
they were in distress, and, would always praise God, as much for

being willing, as for being able to do it. And, when he was

advised by a friend to be more frugal, because he might have
children. lii> answer was, " He would not sec the danger of want
BO far nfV. luit. ln-in^ the Scripture does so commend clmrit;

GEORGE HERBERT. 43

to tell us, that charity is the top of Christian virtues, the covering
of sins, the fulfilling of the law, the life of faith : and that charity
hath a promise of the blessings of this life, and of a reward in
that life which is to come ; being these, and more excellent
things are in Scripture spoken of thee, O charity, and that,
being all my tithes, and church-dues, are a deodate from thee,
0 my God ! make me, O my God, so far to trust thy promise, as
to return them back to thee ; and, by thy grace, I will do so, in
distributing them to any of thy poor members that are in
distress, or do but bear the image of Jesus my master. Sir,"
(said he to his friend) " my wife hath a competent mainte-
nance secured her after my death, and therefore as this is
my prayer, so this my resolution shall by God's grace be
unalterable."

This may be some account of the excellencies of the active
part 2 of his life ; and, thus he continued, till a consumption so
weakened him, as to confine him to his house, or to the chapel,
which does almost join to it; in which he continued to read
prayers constantly twice every day, though he were very weak ;
in one of which times of his reading, his wife observed him to
read in pain, and told him so, and, that it wasted his spirits, and
weakened him : and he confessed it did, but said, " His life could
not be better spent, than in the service of his master Jesus, who
had done and suffered so much for him. But," said he, " I will
not be wilful : for though my spirit be willing, yet I find my flesh
is weak ; and therefore Mr. Bostock shall be appointed to read
prayers for me to-morrow, and I will now be only a hearer of
them, till this mortal shall put on immortality." And Mr. Bostock
did the next day undertake and continue this happy employment,

till Mr. Herbert's death. This Mr. Bostock was a learned and

virtuous man, an old friend of Mr. Herbert's and then his curate
to the church of Fulston, which is a mile from Bemerton, to

which church Bemerton is but a chapel of ease. And this

Mr. Bostock did also constantly supply the church service for
Mr. Herbert in that chapel, when the music-meeting at Salisbury
caused his absence from it.

About one month before his death, his friend Mr. Farrer (for
an account of whom I am by promise indebted to the reader, and
intend to make him sudden payment) hearing of Mr. Herbert's

- The active part.~\ "His time he ever measured by the pulse, that native
watch which God has set in every one of us." Life by Barnabas Oley.

44 GEORGE HERBERT.

sickness, sent Mr. Edmund Duncon (who is now rector of Fryer
Barnet in the county of Middlesex) from his house of Gidden-hall,
which is near to Huntingdon, to see Mr. Herbert, and to assure
him, he wanted not his daily prayers for his recovery ; and, Mr.
Duncon was to return back to Gidden, with an account of Mr.
Herbert's condition. Mr. Duncon found him weak, and at that
time lying on his bed, or on a pallat ; but at his seeing Mr. Dun-
con, he raised himself vigorously, saluted him, and with some
earnestness enquired the health of his brother Farrer ; of which
Mr. Duncon satisfied him ; and after some discourse of Mr. Far-
rer's holy life, and the manner of his constant serving God, he

said to Mr. Duncon u Sir, I see by your habit that you are a

priest, and I desire you to pray with me ;" which being granted,
Mr. Duncon asked him " what prayers f to which, Mr. Herbert's
answer was, " 0 sir, the prayers of my mother, the church of
England, no other prayers are equal to them ! but, at this time,
I beg of you to pray only the Litany, for I am weak and faint ;"
and Mr. Duncon did so. After which, and some other discourse
of Mr. Farrer, Mrs. Herbert provided Mr. Duncon a plain sup-
per, and a clean lodging, and he betook himself to rest. — This
Mr. Duncon tells me ; and tells me, that at his first view of Mr.
Herbert, he saw majesty and humility so reconciled in his looks
and behaviour, as begot in him an awful reverence for his person ;
and says, " his discourse was so pious, and his motion so gentle
and meek, that after almost forty years, yet they remain still fmsh
in his memory."

The next morning Mr. Duncon left him, and betook himself to
a journey to Bath, but with a promise to return back to him
within five days, and he did so ; but before I shall say any thing
of what discourse then fell betwixt them two, I will pay my pro-
mised account of Mr. Farrer.

Mr. Nicholas Farrer (who got the reputation of being called
saint Nicholas, at the age of six years) was born in London, and
doubtless had good education in his youth ; but certainly, was at
an early age made fellow of Clare-hall in Cambridge, where he
continued to be eminent for his piety, temperance, and learning.

About the twenty-sixth year of his age, he betook himself to

tr.ml; in which he added to his Latin and Greek, a perfect
knowledge of all the languages spoken in the western parts of
our Christian world ; and understood well the principles of their
religion, and of their manner, and the reasons of their worship.

GEORGE HERBERT. 45

—In this his travel he met with many persuasions to come into
a communion with that church which calls itself catholic : but, he
returned from his travels as he went, eminent for his obedience to
his mother, the church of England. In his absence from England,
Mr. Farrer's father (who was a merchant) allowed him a liberal
maintenance ; and not long after his return into England, Mr.
Farrer had by the death of his father, or an elder brother, or
both, an estate left him, that enabled him to purchase land to the
value of 4 or 500£. a year ; the greatest part of which land was at
Little Gidden 3, four or six miles from Huntingdon, and about
eighteen from Cambridge : which place, he chose for the privacy
of it, and for the hall, which had the parish church, or chapel be-
longing, and adjoining near to it ; for, Mr. Farrer having seen
the manners and vanities of the world, and found them to be, as
Mr. Herbert says, " a nothing between two dishes ;" did so con-
temn it, that he resolved to spend the remainder of his life in
mortifications, and in devotion, and charity, and to be always
prepared for death. And his life was spent thus.

He, and his family, which were like a little college, and about
thirty in number, did most of them keep Lent, and all ember-
weeks strictly, both in fasting, and using all those mortifications
and prayers that the church hath appointed to be then used :
and he and they did the like constantly on Fridays, and on the
vigils, or eves appointed to be fasted before the saints-days : and
this frugality and abstinence turned to the relief of the poor : but
this was but a part of his charity, none but God and he knew
the rest.

This family, which I have said to be in number about thirty,
were a part of them his kindred, and the rest chosen to be of a
temper fit to be moulded into a devout life ; and all of them were
for their dispositions serviceable and quiet, and humble, and free
from scandal. Having thus fitted himself for his family, he did
about the year 1 630, betake himself to a constant and methodical
service of God, and it was in this manner. He being accom-
panied with most of his family, did himself use to read the
common prayers (for he was a deacon) every day at the appointed
hours of ten and four, in the parish church which was very near
his house, and which he had both repaired and adorned ; for it
was fallen into a great ruin, by reason of a depopulation of the

3 Little Gidden.'] About four or five miles from Leighton.

46 GEORGE HERBERT.

village before Mr. Farrer bought the manor; and, he did also
constantly read the mattins every morning at the hour of six,
either in the church, or in an oratory, which was within his own
house : and many of the family did there continue with him after
the prayers were ended, and there they spent some hours in
singing hymns, or anthems, sometimes in the church, and often
to an organ in the oratory. And there they sometimes betook
themselves to meditate, or to pray privately, or to read a part of
the New Testament to themselves, or to continue their praying
or reading the psalms : and, in case the psalms were not always
read in the day, then Mr. Farrer, and others of the congrega-
tion, did at night, at the ring of a watch-bell, repair to the
church or oratory, and there betake themselves to prayers, and
lauding God, and reading the psalms that had not been read in
the day ; and, when these, or any part of the congregation grew
weary, or faint, the watch-bell was rung, sometimes before, and
sometimes after midnight : and then another part of the family
rose, and maintained the watch, sometimes by praying, or singing
lauds to God, or reading the psalms : and when after some hours
they also grew weary or faint, they rung the watch-bell, and
were also relieved by some of the former, or by a new part of the
society, which continued their devotions, (as hath been mentioned)

until morning. And it is to be noted, that in this continued

serving of God, the psalter, or whole book of psalms, was in
every four and twenty hours, sung or read over, from the first to
the last verse : and this was done as constantly, as the sun runs
his circle every day about the world, and then begins again the
same instant that it ended.

Thus did Mr. Farrer, and his happy family, serve God da\
and night: thus did they always behave themselves, as in his
presence. And, they did always eat and drink by the strictest
rules of temperance ; eat and drink so, as to be ready to rise at
midnight, or at the call of a watch-bell, and perform their d

tions to God. And it is fit to tell the reader that many of

the clergy that were more inclined to practical piety, and devo-
tiim. than to doubtful and needless disputations, did often come
to Gidden-liall. and make themselves a part of that happy society,
and stay a week or more, and then join with Mr. Farn-r. and the
family in these devotions, and assist and ease him or them in
their watch by ni^ht ; and tli«-r \.-mm.is drvntimis had n-

;han tunnfth.- d«»nn--tir family in the ni^ht ; and the \\atch

GEORGE HERBERT. 47

was always kept in the church or oratory, unless in extreme cold
winter nights, and then it was maintained in a parlour which had
a fire in it ; and the parlour was fitted for that purpose ; and
this course of piety, and great liberality to his poor neighbours,
Mr. Farrer maintained till his death, which was in the year
1639.

Mr. Farrer's, and Mr. Herbert's devout lives, were both so
noted, that the general report of their sanctity, gave them occa-
sion to renew that slight acquaintance which was begun at their
being contemporaries in Cambridge ; and this new holy friend--
ship was long maintained without any interview, but only by
loving and endearing letters. And, one testimony of their
friendship and pious designs may appear by Mr. Farcer's com-
mending the Considerations of John Valdesso 4 (a book which he
had met with in his travels, and translated out of Spanish into
English) to be examined and censured by Mr. Herbert before it
was made public ; which excellent book Mr. Herbert did read,
and return back with many marginal notes, as they be now
printed with it : and with them, Mr. Herbert's affectionate
letter to Mr. Farrer.

This John Valdesso was a Spaniard, and was for fiis learning
and virtue much valued and loved by the great emperor Charles
the fifth, whom Valdesso had followed as a cavalier all the time
of his long and dangerous wars ; and when Valdesso grew old,

4 John Valdesso.~\ Juan Valdes, a noble Spaniard, knighted by Charles V.,
was one of the first who introduced the doctrines of the Reformation into
Naples. He died there in 1540. The original Spanish text of his " Considera-
tions " has never been printed. An Italian version of the work, (by whom
made is uncertain,) was taken to Basle by Pietro Paolo Vergerio, when he
threw up his bishopric of Capo d'Istria, in order to join the reformed church,
and it was placed by him in the hands of Celio Secondo Curione, who added
a preface, and published it at Basle in 1550. Another edition was printed at
Lyons in 1563. From the Italian it was translated into French by C. K.
(Claude de Kerquifinem,) and printed at Paris in 1565. In the French version
the author's name is turned into " Jean de Val de d'Esso." Nicholas Farrer's
English version was made from the Italian, and, with a preface by Dr. Jack-
son, was printed at Oxford, by L. Lichfield, in 1638, in 4to. Copies of the
English translation are in the Bodleian and Sion College libraries. The
Bodleian and the British Museum possess the first Italian edition, and the
Bodleian has also the French translation. It may be remarked as singular,
that at the present time, (1852) when so many books have been reprinted, a
work translated by Nicholas Farrer, having notes by George Herbert, and a
preface by Thomas Jackson, should have remained unnoticed.

48 GEORGE HERBERT.

and grew weary both of war and the world, he took his fair
opportunity to declare to the emperor, that his resolution was to
decline his majesty's service, and betake himself to a quiet and
contemplative life, because there ought to be a vacancy of time

betwixt fighting and dying. The emperor had himself, for

the same, or other like reasons, put on the same resolution : but,
God and himself did, till then, only know them; and he did
therefore desire Valdesso to consider well of what he had said,
and to keep his purpose within his own breast, till they two might
have a second opportunity of a friendly discourse : which Val-
desso promised to do.

In the mean time, the emperor appoints privately a day for
him and Valdesso to meet again, and, after a pious and free dis-
course they both agreed on a certain day to receive the blessed
sacrament publicly : and, appointed an eloquent and devout friar,
to preach a sermon of contempt of the world, and of the hap-
piness and benefit of a quiet and contemplative life ; which the

friar did most affectionately. After which sermon, the emperor

took occasion to declare openly, " That the preacher had begot
in him a resolution to lay down his dignities, and to forsake the
world, and betake himself to a monastical life." And, he pre-
tended, he had persuaded John Valdesso to do the like ; but this
is most certain, that after the emperor had called his son Philip
out of England, and resigned to him all his kingdoms, that then
the emperor, and John Valdesso did perform their resolutions.

This account of John Valdesso I received from a friend, that
had it from the mouth of Mr. Farrer : and, the reader may note,
that in this retirement, John Valdesso writ his one hundred and
ten considerations, and many other treatises of worth, which want
a second Mr. Farrer to procure, and translate them.

After this account of Mr. Farrer, and John Valdesso, I
proceed to my account of Mr. Herbert, and Mr. Duncon, who.
according to his promise, returned from the Bath the fifth day,
ami then found Mr. Herbert much weaker than he left him : and
therefore the discourse could not be long; but at Mr. Duncon's

parting with him, Mr. Herbert spoke to this purpose " Sir,

I pray give my brother Farrer an account of the decaying con-
dition of my body, and tell him, I beg him to continue his daily
prayers for me: and, let him know, that I have considered, That
God only is what In- would he; and. that I am by his gran-
me now v«. like him. as to be pl.--a>ed \\ith what pleas.-th

GEORGE HERBERT. 49

him ; and tell him, that I do not repine but am pleased with my
want of health ; and tell him, my heart is fixed on that place
where true joy is only to be found, and, that I long to be there,
and do wait for my appointed change with hope and patience."
Having said this, he did with so sweet a humility as seemed to
exalt him, bow down to Mr. Duncon, and with a thoughtful and

contented look, say to him " Sir, I pray deliver this little

book to my dear brother Farrer, and tell him, he shall find in it
a picture of the many spiritual conflicts that have past betwixt
God and my soul, before I could subject mine to the will of Jesus
my master ; in whose service I have now found perfect freedom :
desire him to read it ; and then, if he can think it may turn to
the advantage of any dejected poor soul, let it be made public :
if not, let him burn it : for, I and it are less than the least of

God's mercies." Thus meanly did this humble man think of

this excellent book, which now bears the name of THE TEMPLE :
or, Sacred Poems, and Private Ejaculations ; of which, Mr. Farrer
would say, " There was in it the picture of a divine soul in every
page ; and, that the whole book was such a harmony of holy
passions, as would enrich the world with pleasure and piety.11
And, it appears to have done so : for there have been more than
twenty thousand of them sold since the first impression.

And this ought to be noted, that when Mr. Farrer sent this
book to Cambridge to be licensed for the press, the vice-chancellor
would by no means allow the two so much noted verses,

" Religion stands a tip-toe in our land,
Ready to pass 5 to the American strand,"

5 Ready to pass.] " Now, I beseech you, let me know what your opinion
is of our English plantations in the New World. Heretofore I have won-
dered in my thoughts at the providence of God concerning that world, not
discovered till this old world of ours is almost at an end ; and then no foot-
steps found of the knowledge of the true God, much less of Christ. And
then considering our English plantations of late, and the opinion of many
grave divines concerning the Gospel's fleeting westward, sometimes I have had
such thoughts, why may not that be the place of New Jerusalem ? But you
have handsomely and fully cleared me from such odd conceits. But what ?
I pray you, shall our English there degenerate and join themselves with Gog
and Magog. We have heard lately divers ways, that our people there have no
hope of the conversion of the natives. And the very week after I received
your last letter, I saw a letter written from New England, discoursing of an
impossibility of subsisting there; and seems to prefer the confession of God's
truth in any condition here in Old England father than run over to enjoy

VOL. IV. E

50 GEORGE HERBERT.

to be printed ; and Mr. Farrer would by no means allow the
book to be printed, and want them. But after some time, and
some arguments, for and against their being made public, the
vice-chancellor said, " I knew Mr. Herbert well, and know that
he had many heavenly speculations, and was a divine poet, but, I
hope the world will not take him to be an inspired prophet, and
therefore I licence the whole book." So that it came to be
printed, without the diminution or addition of a syllable, since it
was delivered into the hands of Mr. Duncon, save only, that Mr.
Farrer hath added that excellent preface that is printed, be-
fore it.

At the time of Mr. Duncon*s leaving Mr. Herbert, (which was
about three weeks before his death) his old and dear friend Mr.
Woodnot came from London to Bemerton, and never left him,
till he had seen him draw his last breath ; and closed his eyes on
his death-bed. In this time of his decay, he was often visited and
prayed for by all the clergy that lived near to him, especially by
his friends the bishop and prebends of the cathedral church in
Salisbury ; but by none more devoutly than his wife, his three
nieces (then a part of his family) and Mr. Woodnot, who were
the sad witnesses of his daily decay ; to whom he would often

speak to this purpose. u I now look back upon the pleasures

of my life past, and see the content I have taken in beauty, in
wit, in music, and pleasant conversation, are now all past by me,
like a dream, or as a shadow that returns not, and are now all
become dead to me, or I to them ; and I see that as my father
and generation hath done before me, so I also shall now suddenly
(with Job) make my led also in the dark ; and, I praise God I am
prepared for it ; and I praise him, that I am not to learn patience,
now I stand in such need of it ; and, that I have practised mor-
tification, and endeavoured to die daily, that I might not die
eternally ; and, my hope is, that I shall shortly leave this valley

their liberty there : yea, and that the Gospel is likely to be more dear in New
England than in Old : and lastly, unless they be exceeding careful, and God
wonderfully merciful, they are like to lose that life and zeal for God and his
truth in New England, which they enjoyed in Old : as whereof they have
already woeful experience, and many there feel it to their smart." Letter
of Dr'. W. Twisse to Joseph Mede, dated March 2, 1634. Mede's Works,
p. 799.

Barnabas Oley, in his Life of Herbert, referring to the same lines, says,
" I pray God he may prove a true prophet for poor America, not nyainst poor
England."

GEORGE HERBERT. ol

of tears, and be free from all fevers and pain : and, which will be
a more happy condition, I shall be free from sin, and all the
temptations and anxieties that attend it ; and this being past, I
shall dwell in the new Jerusalem, dwell there with men made
perfect ; dwell, where these eyes shall see my master and Saviour
Jesus ; and, with him see my dear mother, and all my relations

and friends. But I must die, or not come to that happy place.

And, this is my content, that I am going daily towards it ; and,
that every day which I have lived hath taken a part of my ap-
pointed time from me ; and, that I shall live the less time, for,
having lived this, and the day past." — —These and the like
expressions, which he uttered often, may be said to be his enjoy-
ment of heaven, before he enjoyed it. The Sunday before his

death, he rose suddenly from his bed or couch, called for one of
his instruments, took it into his hand, and said

" My God, my God,
My music shall find thee,

And every string
Shall have his attribute to sing."

And having tuned it, he played and sung :

" The Sundays of man's life,

Threaded together on time's string,
Make bracelets, to adorn the wife

Of the eternal, glorious King :
On Sundays, heaven's door stands ope ;

Blessings are plentiful and rife,
More plentiful than hope."

Thus he sung on earth such hymns and anthems as the angels
and he, and Mr. Farrer, now sing in heaven.

Thus he continued meditating and praying, and rejoicing, till
the day of his death ; and on that day, said to Mr. Woodnot,
" My dear friend, I am sorry I have nothing to present to my
merciful God but sin and misery ; but the first is pardoned : and
a few hours will now put a period to the latter ; for I shall sud-
denly go hence and be no more seen." Upon which expression,
Mr. Woodnot took occasion to remember him of the re-edifying
Layton church, and his many acts of mercy ; to which he made
answer, saying, " They be good works, if they be sprinkled with
the blood of Christ, and not otherwise." After this discourse he
became more restless, and his soul seemed to be weary of her
earthly tabernacle ; and this uneasiness became so visible, that

K 2

52 GEORGE HERBERT.

his wife, his three nieces, and Mr. Woodnot, stood constantly
about his bed, beholding him with sorrow, and an unwillingness
to lose the sight of him whom they could not hope to see much

longer. As they stood thus beholding him, his wife observed

him to breathe faintly, and with much trouble ; and observed him
to fall into a sudden agony ; which so surprised her, that she fell
into a sudden passion, and required of him to know, " how he
did f to which his answer was, " That he had past a conflict with
his last enemy, and had overcome him, by the merits of his master
Jesus." After which answer, he looked up, and saw his wife and
nieces weeping to an extremity, and charged them, u If they
loved him, to withdraw into the next room, and there pray every
one alone for him, for nothing but their lamentations could make
his death uncomfortable.1'* To which request, their sighs and
tears would not suffer them to make any reply : but they yielded
him a sad obedience, leaving only with him, Mr. Woodnot, and
Mr. Bostock. Immediately after they had left him, he said to
Mr. Bostock, " Pray sir open that door, then look into that
cabinet, in which you may easily find my last will, and give it into
my hand ;" which being done Mr. Herbert delivered it into the
hand of Mr. Woodnot, and said, " My old friend, I here deliver
you my last will, in which you will find that I have made you my
sole executor for the good of my wife and nieces ; and I desire you
to shew kindness to them, as they shall need it. I do not desire
you to be just : for, I know you will be so for your own sake ;
but, I charge you, by the religion of our friendship, to be careful
of them.1' And having obtained Mr. Woodnot^s promise to be
so ; he said, " I am now ready to die :" after which words he
said, " Lord, forsake me not now my strength faileth me : but
grant me mercy for the merits of my Jesus ; and now Lord,
Lord now receive my soul.11 And with those words he breathed
forth his divine soul, without any apparent disturbance: Mr.
Woodnot, and Mr. Bostock, attending his last breath, and closing
his eyes.

Thus he lived, and thus he died like a saint, unspotted of the
world, full of alms-deeds, full of humility, and all the examples of
a virtuous life; which I cannot conclude better, than with this
borrowed observation :

"... All must to their cold graves ;
But the religious actions of the just,
Smell sweet in death, and blossom in the dust."

GEORGE HERBERT. 53

Mr. George Herbert's have done so to this, and will doubtless

do so to succeeding generations. 1 have but this to say more

of him : that if Andrew Melvin died before him, then George

Herbert died without an enemy. 1 wish (if God shall be so

pleased) that I may be so happy as to die like him.

Iz. WA.

There is a debt justly due to the memory of Mr. Herbert's
virtuous wife ; a part of which I will endeavour to pay, by a very
short account of the remainder of her life, which shall follow.

She continued his disconsolate widow about six years, bemoan-
ing herself, and complaining, " that she had lost the delight of her
eyes," but more " that she had lost the spiritual guide for her pool-
soul ;" and would often say, " 0 that I had like holy Mary, the
mother of Jesus, treasured up all his sayings in my heart : but
since I have not been able to do that, I will labour to live like
him, that where he now is, 1 may be also." And she would often
say (as the prophet David for his son Absalom) 0 that Iliad died
for him ! Thus she continued mourning, till time and conversa-
tion had so moderated her sorrows, that she became the happy
wife of sir Robert Cook of Highnam in the county of Gloucester
knight : and though he put a high value on the excellent accom-
plishments of her mind and body ; and was so like Mr. Herbert,
as not to govern like a master, but as an affectionate husband ;
yet, she would even to him often take occasion to mention the
name of Mr. George Herbert, and say, " That name must live in

her memory, till she put off mortality." By sir Robert, she had

only one child, a daughter, whose parts and plentiful estate make
her happy in this world, and her well using of them, gives a fail-
testimony, that she will be so in that which is to come.

Mrs. Herbert was the wife of sir Robert eight years, and lived
his widow about fifteen ; all which time she took a pleasure in
mentioning, and commending the excellencies of Mr. George
Herbert. She died in the year 1663, and lies buried at Highnam :
Mr. Herbert in his own church, under the altar, and covered with
a grave-stone without any inscription.

This lady Cook had preserved many of Mr. Herbert's private
writings, which she intended to make public : but they, and
Highnam house, were burnt together, by the late rebels, and so
lost to posterity. I. W.

54 GEORGE HERBERT.

LETTERS written by Mr. GEORGE HERBERT, at his being in Cam-
bridge: with others to his mother, the lady MAGDALEN HER-
BERT, written by JOHN DONNE, afterwards Dean of St. PauFs.

Mr. GEORGE HERBERT to N. F.6 the translator of Valdesso.

My dear and deserving brother, your Valdesso I now return
with many thanks, and some notes, in which perhaps you will
discover some care, which I forbear not in the midst of my griefs ;
first for your sake ; because, I would do nothing negligently that
you commit unto me ; secondly for the author's sake, whom I
conceive to have been a true servant of God ; and to such, and
all that is theirs, I owe diligence ; thirdly for the church's sake,
to whom by printing it, I would have you consecrate it. You
owe the church a debt, and God hath put this into your hands
(as he sent the fish with money to St. Peter) to discharge it :
happily also with this (as his thoughts are fruitful) intending the
honour of his servant the author, who being obscured in his own
country, he would have to flourish in this land of light, and
region of the gospel, among his chosen. It is true, there are
some things which I like not in him, as my fragments will express,
when you read them ; nevertheless, I wish you by all means to
publish it ; for these three eminent things observable therein :
first, that God in the midst of popery should open the eyes of
one to understand and express so clearly and excellently the
intent of the gospel in the acceptation of Christ's righteousness :
(as he sheweth through all his considerations,) a thing strangely
buried, and darkened by the adversaries, and their great stum-
bling block. Secondly, the great honour and reverence which he
every where bears towards our dear master and lord ; concluding
every consideration almost with his holy name, and setting his
merit forth so piously ; for which I do so love him, that were
there nothing else, I would print it, that with it the honour of my
lord might be published. Thirdly, the many pious rules of order-
ing our life, about mortification, and observation of God's king-
dom within us, and the working thereof; of which he was a very
diligent observer. These three things are very eminent in the

6 N. F.] Nicholas Ferrar, see p. 47.

GEORGE HERBERT. 55

author, and overweigh the defects (as I conceive) towards the
publishing thereof.

From his Parsonage of Bemerton, near
Salisbury, Sept. 29, 1632.

To SIR J. D /

Sir,

Though I had the best wit in the world, yet it would easily tire
me, to find out variety of thanks for the diversity of your favours,
if I sought to do so ; but, I profess it not : and therefore let it be
sufficient for me, that the same heart, which you have won long
since, is still true to you, and hath nothing else to answer your
infinite kindnesses, but a constancy of obedience ; only hereafter
I will take heed how I propose my desires unto you, since I find
you so willing to yield to my requests ; for, since your favours come
on horseback, there is reason, that my desires should go on foot :
neither do I make any question, but that you have performed
your kindness to the full, and that the horse is every way fit for
me, and I will strive to imitate the completeness of your love,
with being in some proportion, and after my manner,

Your most obedient servant,

GEORGE HERBERT.

For my dear sick sister 8.

Most dear Sister,

Think not my silence forge tfulness ; or, that my love is as dumb
as my papers ; though businesses may stop my hand, yet my
heart, a much better member, is always with you : and which is
more, with our good and gracious God, incessantly begging some
ease of your pains, with that earnestness, that becomes your

7 Sir J. D.] Sir John Danvers, step-father to George Herbert.

8 Sick sister.'] Elizabeth, the eldest, married to Sir Henry Jones. " The
latter end of her time was the most sickly and miserable that hath been
known in our times, while for the space of about fourteen years she lan-
guished and pined away to skin and bones, and at last died in London."
Life of Lord Herbert of Cherbury, p. 15.

56 GEORGE HERBERT.

griefs, and my love. God who knows and sees this writing, knows
also that my soliciting him has been much, and my tears many
for you ; judge me then by those waters, and not by my ink, and
then you shall justly value

Your most truly,

most heartily,

affectionate brother,

and servant,

Decem. 6, 1620. GEORGE HEUBEI; i

Trin. Coll.

Sir',

I dare no longer be silent, least while I think I am modest, I
wrong both myself, and also the confidence my friends have in
me ; wherefore I will open my case unto you, which I think
deserves the reading at the least ; and it is this, I want books
extreamly. You know sir, how I am now setting foot into
divinity, to lay the platform of my future life, and shall I then be
fain always to borrow books, and build on another's foundation ?
What tradesman is there who will set up without his tools?
Pardon my boldness sir, it is a most serious case, nor can I write
coldly in that wherein consisteth the making good of my former
education, of obeying that spirit which hath guided me hitherto,
and of atchieving my (I dare say) holy ends. This also is aggra-
vated, in that I apprehend what my friends would have been for-
ward to say, if I had taken ill courses, " Follow your book, and
you shall want nothing." You know sir, it is their ordinary
speech, and now let them make it good ; for since I hope I have
not deceived their expectation, let not them deceive mine. — But
perhaps they will say, " You are sickly, you must not study too
hard." It is true (God knows) I am weak, yet not so but that
every day I may step one step towards my journey's end ; and I
love my friends so well, as that if all things proved not well, I
had rather the fault should lie on me, than on them. — But they
will object again, "What becomes of your annuity?" Sir, ii'
tin-re l»i aii\ truth in me, I find it little enough to keep me in
health. You know I was sick last vacation, neither am I yet

9 Sir.] Sir John Danvers.

GEORGE HERBERT. 57

recovered, so that I am fain ever and anon, to buy somewhat
tending towards my health, for infirmities are both painful and
costly. Now this Lent I am forbid utterly to eat any fish, so
that I am fain to diet in my chamber at mine own cost ; for in
our public halls, you know, is nothing but fish and whit-meats.
Out of Lent also twice a week, on Fridays and Saturdays, I must
do so, which yet sometimes I fast. Sometimes also I ride to
Newmarket, and there lie a day or two for fresh air ; all which
tend to avoiding of costlier matters, if I should fall absolutely
sick. I protest and vow, I even study thrift, and yet I am scarce
able with much ado to make one half yearns allowance, shake hands
with the other : and yet if a book of four or five shillings come in
my way, I buy it, though I fast for it ; yea, sometimes of ten
shillings. But alas sir, what is that to those infinite volumes of
divinity, which yet every day swell, and grow bigger. Noble sir,
pardon my boldness, and consider but these three things. First,
the bulk of divinity. Secondly, the time when I desire this
(which is now, when I must lay the foundation of my whole life.)
Thirdly, what I desire, and to what end, not vain pleasures, nor
to a vain end. If then, sir, there be any course, either by engaging
my future annuity, or any other way, I desire you, sir, to be my
mediator to them in my behalf.

Now I write to you, sir, because to you I have ever opened my
heart ; and have reason, by the patents of your perpetual favour
to do so still, for I am sure you love

Your faithfullest servant,

GEORGE HERBERT.

March 18, 1617.
Trin. Coll

Sir1,

This week hath loaded me with your favours. I wish I could
have come in person to thank you, but it is not possible ; presently
after Michaelmas, I am to make an oration to the whole university
of an hour long in Latin, and my Lincoln journey hath set me
much behind hand. Neither can I so much as go to Bugden, and
deliver your letter, yet have I sent it thither by a faithful mes-
senger this day. I beseech you all, you and my dear mother and

1 Sir.'] Sir John Danvers.

58 GEORGE HERBERT.

sister to pardon me, for my Cambridge necessities are stronger to
tie me here, than your's to London. If I could possibly have
come, none should have done my message to sir Fr. Nethersole
for me ; he and I are ancient acquaintance, and I have a strong
opinion of him, that if he can do me a courtesy, he will of himself;
yet your appearing in it affects me strangely. I have sent you
here inclosed a letter from our master in my behalf, which if you
can send to sir Francis before his departure, it will do well, for
it expresseth the university's inclination to me ; yet if you cannot
send it with much convenience, it is no matter, for the gentleman
needs no incitation to love me.

The orator's place (that you may understand what it is) is the
finest place in the university, though not the gainfullest. Yet
that will be about 30£. per an. but the commodiousness is beyond
the revenue; for the orator writes all the university letters,
makes all the orations, be it to king, prince, or whatever comes
to the university. To requite these pains, he takes place next
the doctors, is at all their assemblies and meetings, and sits above
the proctors, is regent or non-regent at his pleasure, and such like
gaynesses, which will please a young man well.

I long to hear from sir Francis. I pray sir send the letter you
receive from him to me as soon as you can, that I may work the
heads to my purpose. I hope I shall get this place without all
your London helps, of which I am very proud ; not but that I
joy in your favours, but that you may see, that if all fail, yet I
am able to stand on mine own legs. Noble sir, I thank you for
your infinite favours, I fear only that I have omitted some
fitting circumstance, yet you will pardon my haste, which is very
great, though never so, but that I have both time and work
to be

Your extream servant,

GEORGE HERBERT.

Sir2,

I have received the things you sent me, safe ; and now the
only thing I long for, is to hear of my dear sick sister ; first, how
her health fares, next, whether my peace be yet made with IK r

" Sir.] Sir John Danvers.

GEORGE HERBERT. 59

concerning my unkind departure. Can I be so happy, as to hear
of both these, that they succeed well ? Is it not too much for
me ? Good sir, make it plain to her, that I loved her even in my
departure, in looking to her son, and my charge. I suppose she
is not disposed to spend her eye-sight on a piece of paper, or else
I had wrote to her : when I shall understand that a letter will be
seasonable, my pen is ready. — Concerning the orator's place all
goes well yet : the next Friday it is tried, and accordingly you
shall hear. I have forty businesses in my hands ; your courtesy
will pardon the haste of

Your humble servant,

GEORGE HERBERT.
Jan. 19, 1619.
Trin. Coll.

Sir3,

I understand by sir Francis NethersoFs letter, that he fears I
have not fully resolved of the matter, since this place being civil
may divert me too much from divinity, at which, not without
cause he thinks I aim. But, I have wrote him back, that this
dignity hath no such earthiness in it, but it may very well be
joined with heaven ; or if it had to others, yet to me it should
not, for ought I yet knew : and therefore I desire him to send
me a direct answer in his next letter. I pray sir therefore, cause
this inclosed to be carried to his brother's house of his own name
(as I think) at the sign of the Pedler and the Pack on London-
bridge, for there he assigns me. I cannot yet find leisure to
write to my lord, or sir Benjamin Ruddyard ; but I hope I shall
shortly. Though for the reckoning of your favours I shall never
find time and paper enough, yet I am

Your readiest servant,

GEORGE HERBERT.
Octob. 6, 1619.
Trin. Coll.

I remember my most humble duty to my mother, who cannot
think me lazy, since I rode two hundred miles to see a sister,
in a way I knew not, in the midst of much business, and all
in a fortnight, not long since.

3 Sir.] Sir John Danvers.

60 GEORGE HERBERT.

To the truly nolle SIR J. D.4
Sir,

I understand by a letter from my brother Henry, that he hath
bought a parcel of books for me, and that they are coming over.
Now though they have hitherto travelled upon your charge, yet
if my sister were acquainted that they are ready, I dare say she
would make good her promise of taking five or six pound upon
her, which she hath hitherto deferred to do, not of herself, but
upon the want of those books which were not to be got in
England. For that which surmounts, though your noble dispo-
sition is infinitely free, yet I had rather fly to my old ward, that
if any cause could be taken of doubling my annuity now, upon
condition that I should surcease from all title to it after I
entered into a benefice, I should be most glad to entertain it,
and both pay for the surplusage of these books, and for ever after
cease my clamorous and greedy bookish requests. It is high
time now that I should be no more a burden to you, since I can
never answer what I have already received; for your favours
are so ancient, that they prevent my memory, and yet still grow
upon

Your humble servant,

GEORGE HERBERT.

I remember my most humble duty to my mother. I have wrote
to my dear sick sister this week already, and therefore now I
hope may be excused.

I pray sir, pardon my boldness of inclosing my brother's letter in
yourX for it was because I know your lodging, but not his.

To the worthiest Lady^ MRS. MAGDALEN HERBERT.

Madam,

Every excuse hath in it somewhat of accusation, and since I
am innocent, and yet must excuse, how shall I do for that part
of accusing? By my troth, as desperate and perplrxcd nun
L;TO\V from tlicucc bold ; so must I take the boldness of accusing
you, who would draw so dark a curtain betwixt UK.- and your pur-

4 Sir.} Sir John Danvcrs.

GEORGE HERBERT. 61

poses, as that I had no glimmering, neither of your goings, nor
the way which my letters might haunt. Yet, I have given this
licence to travel, but I know not whither, nor it. It is therefore
rather a pinnace to discover ; and the intire colony of letters, of
hundreds and fifties, must follow; whose employment is more
honourable, than that which our state meditates to Virginia,
because you are worthier than all that country, of which that is
a wretched inch ; for you have a better treasure, and a harmless-
ness. If this sound like a flattery, tear it out. I am to my
letters as rigid a puritan, as Csesar was to his wife. I can as ill
endure a suspitious and misinterpretable word as a fault ; but
remember that nothing is flattery which the speaker believes;
and of the grossest flatteries there is this good use, that they tell
us what we should be. But madam, you are beyond instruc-
tion, and therefore there can belong to you only praise; of
which though you be no good hearer, yet allow all my letters
leave to have in them one part of it, which is thankfulness
towards you.

Your unworthiest servant,

Except your excepting

have mended him,

Mickin, JOHN DONNE.

July 11, 1607.

To the worthiest Lady, MRS. MAGDALEN HERBERT.

Madam,

This is my second letter, in which though I cannot tell you
what is good, yet this is the worst that I must be a great part
of it ; yet to me that is recompensed, because you must be
mingled. After I knew you were gone (for I must little less
than accusingly tell you, I knew not you would go) I sent my
first letter, like a Bevis of Hampton, to seek adventures. This
day I came to town, and to the best part of it, your house ; for
your memory is a state-cloth and presence, which I reverence,
though you be away ; though I need not seek that there, which
I have about and within me. There, though I found my accusa-
tion, yet any thing to which your hand is, is a pardon ; yet I
would not burn my first letter, because as in great destiny no
small passage can be omitted or frustrated, so in my resolution of

62 GEORGE HERBERT.

writing almost daily to you, I would have no link of the chain
broke by me, both because my letters interpret one another, and
because only their number can give them weight. If I had your
commission and instructions to do you the service of a legier
ambassador here, I could say something of the countess of Devon,
of the states, and such things. But since to you, who are not
only a world alone, but the monarchy of the world yourself,
nothing can be added, especially by me ; I will sustain myself
with the honour of being

Your servant extraordinary,

And without place,

JOHN DON XL.
London, July 23, 1607.

To the worthiest Lady, MRS. MAGDALEN HERBERT.

Madam,

As we must die before we can have full glory and happiness, so
before I can have this degree of it, as to see you by a letter, I
must almost die, that is, come to London, to plaguy London ; a
place full of danger, and vanity, and vice, though the court be
gone. And such it will be, till your return redeem it. Not that
the greatest virtue in the world, which is you, can be such a
marshal, as to defeat, or disperse all the vice of this place ; but
as higher bodies remove, or contract themselves when better
come, so at your return we shall have one door open to innocence.
Yet madam, you are not such an Ireland, as produceth neither
ill, nor good ; no spiders, nor nightingales, which is a rare degree
of perfection ; but you have found and practised that experiment,
that even nature, out of her detesting of emptiness, if we will
make that our work, to remove bad, will fill us with good things.
To abstain from it, was therefore but the childhood, and minority
of your soul, which had been long exercised since, in your manlier
active part, of doing good. Of which since I have been a witness
and subject, not to tell you sometimes, that by your influence
and example I have attained to such a step of goodness, as to be
thankful, were both to accuse your power and judgment of
impotency and infirmity.

Your ladyship's in all services,

August 2, 1607. .!«MIN-

GEORGE HERBERT. 63

On MR. GEORGE HERBERT'S Book, intitled The Temple of
Sacred Poems, sent to a Gentlewoman.

Know you, fair, on what you look ?

Divinest love lies in this book :

Expecting fire from your eyes,

To kindle this his sacrifice.

When your hands untie these strings,

Think you've an angel by the wings,

One that gladly will be nigh,

To wait upon each morning sigh ;

To nutter in the balmy air,

Of your well-perfumed prayer.

These white plumes of his he'll lend you,

Which every day to heaven will send you,

To take acquaintance of the sphere,

And all the smooth-fac'd kindred there.

And though Herbert's name do owe

These devotions, fairest, know

That while I lay them on the shrine

Of your white hand, they are mine.

To the Hlght Honourable the Lady ANNE, Countess of PEMBROKE
and MONTAGUE 5, at Court.

Madam,

What a trouble hath your goodness brought on you, by
admitting our poor services? Now they creep in a vessel of
metheglin, and still they will be presenting or wishing to see if
at length they may find out something not unworthy of those
hands at which they aim. In the mean time a priests blessing,
though it be none of the courtstile, yet doubtless madam, can do
you no hurt. Wherefore the Lord make good the blessing of

5 Montague."] An error for Montgomery; Anne Clifford, sole daughter
and heir to George, earl of Cumberland, widow of Richard, earl of Dorset,
and afterwards wife of Philip, earl of Pembroke and Montgomery. " She
was the oldest, but the most independent courtier in the kingdom : had
known and admired queen Elizabeth : had refused what she deemed an ini-
quitous award of king James ; rebuilt her dismantled castles in defiance of
Cromwell ; and repelled, with disdain, the interposition of a profligate mi-
nister under Charles the Second." — Whitaker's Craven.

64 GEORGE HERBERT.

your mother upon you, and cause all her wishes, diligence,
prayers and tears, to bud, blow and bear fruit in your soul, to
his glory, your own good, and the great joy of

Madam,

Your most faithful servant
in Christ Jesu,

GEORGE HERBERT.
Dec. 10, 1631, Bemerton.

Madam, your poor colony of servants present their humble
duties.

SIR HENRY WOTTON.

VOT,. IV.

.... Tandem hoc didicit, ANIMAS SAPIENTIORES FIERI QUIESCENDO.
PREFACE TO WOTTON ON ARCHITECTURE.

SIR HENRY WOTTON.

SIR HENRY WOTTON (whose life I now intend to write) was
born in the year of our redemption 1568, in Bocton-hall (com-
monly called Bocton, or Boughton-place, or palace,) in the parish
of Bocton Malherb, in the fruitful country of Kent ; Bocton-hall
being an ancient and goodly structure *, beautifying and being
beautified by the parish church of Bocton Malherb adjoining unto
it, and both seated within a fair park of the Wottons, on the brow
of such a hill as gives the advantage of a large prospect and of
equal pleasure to all beholders.

But this house and church are not remarkable for any thing so
much as for that the memorable family of the Wottons 2 have so
long inhabited the one, and now lie buried in the other, as appears
by their many monuments in that church : the Wottons being a
family that hath brought forth divers persons eminent for wisdom
and valour ; whose heroic acts and noble employments, both in
England and in foreign parts, have adorned themselves and this
nation, which they have served abroad faithfully in the discharge
of their great trust, and prudently in their negotiations with
several princes ; and also served at home with much honour and
justice in their wise managing a great part of the public affairs
thereof, in the various times both of war and peace.

1 Goodly structure.'] See some engravings, with descriptions of its present
remains, in Henry Shaw's Elizabethan Architecture.

2 Family of the Wottons.'] Catharine Wotton, eldest daughter and coheir of
Thomas, second lord Wotton, and great niece of sir Henry Wotton, married
Henry, lord Stanhope, son of Philip, first earl of Chesterfield. She was
created countess of Chesterfield for life. Her grandson, Charles Stanhope
(younger brother of the third earl of Chesterfield), inherited her estates
and took the name of Wotton. He died without issue.

F 2

68 SIR HENRY WOTTON.

But lest I should be thought by any that may incline either to
deny or doubt this truth, not to have observed moderation in the
commendation of this family; and also for that I believe the
merits and memory of such persons ought to be thankfully
recorded, I shall offer to the consideration of every reader, out
of the testimony of their pedigree, and our chronicles, a part
(and but a part) of that just commendation which might be
from thence enlarged; and shall then leave the indifferent
reader to judge whether my error be an excess or defect of
commendations.

Sir Robert Wotton, of Bocton Malherb, knt. was born about
the year of Christ 1460 : he lived in the reign of king Edward
the fourth, was by him trusted to be lieutenant of Guisnes, to be
knight porter, and comptroller of Calais, where he died, and lies
honourably buried.

Sir Edward Wotton3, of Bocton Malherb, knight, (son and
heir of the said sir Robert) was born in the year of Christ 1489,
in the reign of king Henry the seventh : he was made treasurer
of Calais, and of the privy council to king Henry the eighth,
who offered him to be lord chancellor of England ; but (saith
Hollinshed, in his Chronicle) out of a virtuous modesty he
refused it.

Thomas Wotton, of Bocton Malherb, esquire, son and heir of
the said sir Edward, (and the father of our sir Henry that occa-
sions this relation,) was born in the year of Christ 1521 : he was
a gentleman excellently educated, and studious in all the liberal
arts, in the knowledge whereof he attained unto a great perfec-
tion ; who, though he had (besides those abilities, a very noble
and plentiful estate, and the ancient interest of his predecessors)
many invitations from queen Elizabeth to change his country
recreations and retirement for a court, offering him a knighthood,
(she was then with him at his Bocton-hall,) and that to be but as
an earnest of some more honourable and more profitable employ-
ment under her ; yet he humbly refused both, being a man of great
modesty, of a most plain and single heart, of an ancient freedom
and integrity of mind. A commendation which sir Henry
Wotton took occasion often to remember with great gladness,
and thankfully to boast himself the son of such a father; from

3 Sir Edward Wot ton."] His sister, Margaret, married Thomas Grey, se-
cond marquis of Dorset, and was grandmother of lady Jane Grey.

SIR HENRY WOTTON. 69

whom indeed he derived that noble ingenuity that was always
practised by himself, and which he ever both commended and
cherished in others. This Thomas was also remarkable for hos-
pitality, a great lover, and much beloved of his country ; to which
may justly be added, that he was a cherisher of learning, as
appears by that excellent antiquary Mr. William Lambert4, in his
Perambulation of Kent.

This Thomas 5 had four sons, sir Edward, sir James, sir John,
and sir Henry.

Sir Edward was knighted by queen Elizabeth, and made
comptroller of her majesty "s household. He was (saith Cambden)
a man remarkable for many and great employments in the state
during her reign, and sent several times ambassador into foreign
nations. After her death he was by king James made comp-
troller of his household, and called to be of his privy council, and
by him advanced to be lord Wotton, baron of Merly in Kent, and
made lord lieutenant of that county.

Sir James (the second son) may be numbered among the
martial men of his age, who was in the 38th of queen Elizabeths
reign (with Robert earl of Sussex, count Lodowick of Nassau,
don Christophoro, son of Antonio king of Portugal 6, and divers
other gentlemen of nobleness and valour) knighted in the field
near Cadiz7 in Spain, after they had gotten great honour and
riches, besides a notable retaliation of injuries by taking that
town.

Sir John, being a gentleman excellently accomplished both by
learning and travel, was knighted by queen Elizabeth, and by her
looked upon with more than ordinary favour, and with intentions
of preferment ; but death in his younger years put a period to his
growing hopes.

Of sir Henry my following discourse shall give an account.

The descents of these fore-named Wottons were all in a direct
line, and most of them and their actions in the memory of those

4 Lambert .] More properly Lambard.

5 This Thomas.'] Who died llth January, 1587.

6 King of Portugal.'] Antonio of Portugal, prior of Crato, was a natural
son of the infant Dom Luis, and grandson of the king Dom Emanuel. After
the death of the king Dom Sebastian, in 1578, Antonio was one of the pre-
tenders to the throne of Portugal, and he was supported in his claims by
Elizabeth of England and by France.

7 Near Cadiz.'] In June and July, 1596, by the earl of Essex, who gave
offence to queen Elizabeth by the number of knights he then made.

70 SIR HENRY WO1TON.

with whom we have conversed ; but if I had looked so far back
as to sir Nicholas Wotton, (who lived in the reign of king
Richard the second,) or before him, upon divers others of great
note in their several ages, I might by some be thought tedious ;
and yet others may more justly think me negligent if I omit to
mention Nicholas Wotton, the fourth son of sir Robert, whom I
first named.

This Nicholas Wotton was doctor of law, and sometime dean
both of York and Canterbury ; a man whom God did not only
bless with a long life, but with great abilities of mind, and an
inclination to employ them in the service of his country, as is
testified by his several employments3; having been nine times
ambassador unto foreign princes ; and by his being a privy coun-
cillor to king Henry the eighth, to Edward the sixth, to queen
Mary, and queen Elizabeth ; who also, after he had been during
the wars between England, Scotland, and France, three several
times (and not unsuccessfully) employed in committees for settling
of peace betwixt this and those kingdoms, died (saith learned

Cambden) full of commendations for wisdom and piety. He

was also by the will of king Henry the eighth made one of his
executors, and chief secretary of state to his son, that pious
prince Edward the sixth. Concerning which Nicholas Wotton8

* Camden in his Britannia.

8 Concerning which Nicholas WottonJ] When we consider the numerous
and very important negotiations in which Nicholas Wotton was engaged, it
appears at first sight somewhat strange that so few of his letters or papers
should be known to exist : that such is the case is owing in all probability to
the caution of lord Burghley, with whom even from early life Wotton was
intimate, and whose secrets he possessed. After the death of dean WTotton,
lord Burghley applied to the nephew (the Thomas Wotton who was saved by
the well-timed dream mentioned at p. 74, father of sir Henry), and received
from him, on the 1 8th of March, 1583, the great bulk of the dean's papers.
They are not now however to be found amongst the Cecil Papers, which be-
longed to lord Exeter, and which are now in the British Museum, neither are
they amongst those belonging to the marquess of Salisbury, who possesses
only the few letters of Wotton which are printed by Murdin and Haynes.
There are some few in the State Paper Office which have been recently brought
to light by Mr. Fraser Tytler, and are printed in his England during the reigns
of Edward VI. and Mary. Two very curious volumes of historical and genea-
logical collections in the handwriting of the dean are preserved in the British
Museum, and the late sir George Nayler possessed a similar volume, which
now (1852) belongs to sir Thomas Phillipps, bart. These volumes sufficiently
attest the writer's great knowledge and research.

SIR HENRY WOTTON. 71

I shall say but this little more : that he refused (being offered it
by queen Elizabeth) to be b archbishop of Canterbury ; and that
he died not rich, though he lived in that time of the dissolution
of abbeys.

More might be added : but by this it may appear, that sir
Henry Wotton was a branch of such a kindred as left a stock
of reputation to their posterity ; such reputation as might kindle
a generous emulation in strangers, and preserve a noble ambition
in those of his name and family to perform actions worthy of
their ancestors.

And that sir Henry Wotton did so, might appear more per-
fectly than my pen can express it, if of his many surviving friends
some one of higher parts and employment had been pleased to
have commended his to posterity. But since some years are now
past, and they have all (I know not why) forborne to do it, my
gratitude to the memory of my dead friend, and the renewed
request of some c that still live solicitous to see this duty per-
formed ; these have had a power to persuade me to undertake it ;
which truly I. have not done but with some distrust of mine own
abilities, and yet so far from despair, that I am modestly confi-
dent my humble language shall be accepted, because I shall
present all readers with a commixture of truth and sir Henry
Wotton^s merits.

This being premised, I proceed to tell the reader, that the
father of sir Henry Wotton was twice married, first to Elizabeth,
the daughter of sir John Eudstone 9, knight ; after whose death,
though his inclination was averse to all contentions, yet neces-
sitated he was to several suits in law, in the prosecution whereof
(which took up much of his time, and were the occasion of many
discontents) he was by divers of his friends earnestly persuaded
to a remarriage ; to whom he as often answered, That if ever he

b Hollinshead.

c Sir Edward Bish, clarencieux king of arms, Mr. Charles Cotton, and
Mr. Nick Oudert, sometime sir Henry Wotton's servant.

9 Sir John Rudstone.'] Who had been lord mayor of London in 1528, and
died in 1531. There was a triple alliance between his family and that of the
Wottons, as two of his children married two of sir Edward Wotton's, sir
Edward himself having married sir John's widow. He seems to have been
possessed of great wealth. The Harleian MS. 1231 contains nothing else
than his will, inventories of his goods, and deeds relative to his widow and
her marriage.

72 SIR HENRY WOTTON.

did put on a resolution to marry, he was seriously resolved to avoid
three sorts of persons :

C that had children,
namely, those -j that had law-suits.

v that were of his kindred.

And yet, following his own law-suit, he met in Westminster-
hall with Mrs. Elionora Morton, widow to Robert Morton l of
Kent, esquire, who was also engaged in several suits in law ; and
he, observing her comportment at the time of hearing one of her
causes before the judges, could not but at the same time both
compassionate her condition and affect her person (for the tears
of lovers, or beauty drest in sadness, are observed to have in
them a charming eloquence, and to become very often too strong
to be resisted,) which I mention, because it proved so with this
Thomas Wotton ; for although there were in her a concurrence
of all those accidents against which he had so seriously resolved,
yet his affection to her grew then so strong, that he resolved to
solicit her for a wife ; and did, and obtained her.

By her (who was the daughter of sir William Finch a, of East-
well, in Kent,) he had only Henry his youngest son. His

mother undertook to be tutoress unto him during much of his
childhood ; for whose care and pains he paid her each day with
such visible signs of future perfection in learning as turned her
employment into a pleasing trouble, which she was content to
continue till his father took him into his own particular care, and
disposed of him to a tutor in his own house at Bocton.

And when time and diligent instruction had made him fit for a
removal to an higher form (which was very early) he was sent to
Winchester school, a place of strict discipline and order ; that
so he might in his youth be moulded into a method of living
by rule, which his wise father knew to be the most necessary
way to make the future part of his life both happy to himself,
and useful for the discharge of all business, whether public or
private.

And that he might be confirmed in this regularity, he was at
a fit age removed from that school to be commoner of New college

1 Robert Morton.'] By whom she was mother of sir Albertus Morton.
: Sir William Finch.] Ancestor of the earls of Winchelsea and Nottingham,
and Aylesford.

3 To be commoner.] He was admitted in 1584.

SIR HENRY WOTTON. 73

in Oxford, both being founded by William Wickham, bishop of
Winchester.

There he continued till about the eighteenth year of his age,
and was then transplanted into Queen's college, where within that
year he was by the chief of that college persuasively enjoined to
write a play for their private use, (it was the tragedy of Tan-
credo,) which was so interwoven with sentences, and for the
method and exact personating those humours, passions and dis-
positions, which he proposed to represent, so performed, that the
gravest of that society declared he had in a slight employment
given an early and a solid testimony of his future abilities. And
though there may be some sour dispositions, which may think
this not worth a memorial, yet that wise knight Baptista Guarini 4
(whom learned Italy accounts one of her ornaments) thought
it neither an uncomely nor an unprofitable employment for
his age.

But I pass to what will be thought more serious.

About the twentieth year of his age he proceeded master of
arts, and at that time read in Latin three lectures de oculo ;
wherein he having described the form, the motion, the curious
composure of the eye ; and demonstrated how of those very many,
every humour and nerve performs his distinct office, so as the
God of order hath appointed, without mixture or confusion ; and
all this to the advantage of man, to whom the eye is given, not
only as the body's guide, but whereas all other of his senses
require time to inform the soul, this in an instant apprehends
and warns him of danger, teaching him in the very eyes of others
to discover wit, folly, love, and hatred. After he had made
these observations he fell to dispute this optique question,
" Whether we see by the emission of the beams from within, or
reception of the species from without f and after that, and many
other like learned disquisitions, he in the conclusion of his lectures
took a fair occasion to beautify his discourse with a commendation
of the blessing and benefit of seeing ; by which we do not only
discover nature's secrets ; but with a continued content (for the
eye is never weary of seeing) behold the great light of the world,
and by it discover the fabric of the heavens, and both the order
and motion of the celestial orbs ; nay, that if the eye look but
downward, it may rejoice to behold the bosom of the earth, our

4 Guarini.'] Giovanni Battista Guarini, the author of the Pastor Fido.

74 SIR HENRY WOTTON.

common mother, embroidered and adorned with numberless and
various flowers, which man sees daily grow up to perfection, and
then silently moralize his own condition, who in a short time
(like those very flowers) decays and withers, and quickly returns
again to that earth from which both had their first being.

These were so exactly debated, and so rhetorically heightened
as, among other admirers, caused that learned Italian, Albericus
Gentilis 5 (then professor of the civil law in Oxford) to call him
Henrice, mi ocelle ; which dear expression of his was also used by
divers of sir Henry^s dearest friends, and by many other persons
of note, during his stay in the university.

But his stay there was not long ; at least, not so long as his
friends once intended ; for the year after sir Henry proceeded
master of arts, his father (whom sir Henry did never mention
without this or some like reverential expression, as That good
man my father, or my father the best of men :) about that time this
good man changed this for a better life, leaving to sir Henry, as
to his other younger sons, a rent-charge of an hundred marks a
year, to be paid for ever out of some one of his manors of a much
greater value.

And here, though this good man be dead, yet I wish a circum-
stance or two that concern him may not be buried without a rela-
tion ; which I shall undertake to do, for that I suppose they may
so much concern the reader to know, that I may promise myself
a pardon for a short digression.

In the year of our redemption 1553 Nicholas Wotton, dean of
Canterbury (whom I formerly mentioned) being then ambassador
in France, dreamed that his nephew, this Thomas Wotton, was
inclined to be a party in such a project as, if he were not suddenly
prevented, would turn both to the loss of his life and ruin of his
family.

Doubtless the good dean did well know that common dreams
are but a senseless paraphrase on our waking thoughts, or of the
business of the day past, or are the result of our over-engaged
affections when we betake ourselves to rest; and knew that tin-
observation of them may turn to silly superstitions, as they too
often do : but though he might know all this, and might also
believe that prophecies are ceased, yet doubtless he could not but

' Gentilis.] Of whom an account is given by Ant. a Wood.

SIR HENRY WOTTON. 75

consider, that all dreams are not to be neglected or cast away
without all consideration, and did therefore rather lay this dream
aside than intend totally to lose it ; and dreaming the same again
the night following, when it became a double dream, like that of
Pharaoh, (of which double dreams the learned have made many
observations) and considering that it had no dependence on his
waking thoughts, much less on the desires of his heart, then he
did more seriously consider it, and remembered that almighty
God was pleased in a dream to reveal and to assure Monica d,
the mother of St. Austin, that he, her son, for whom she wept so
bitterly and prayed so much, should at last become a Christian.
This I believe the good dean considered ; and considering also
that almighty God (though the causes of dreams be often un-
known) hath even in these latter times also, by a certain illumi-
nation of the soul in sleep, discovered many things that human
wisdom could not foresee : upon these considerations he resolved
to use so prudent a remedy, by way of prevention, as might in-
troduce no great inconvenience either to himself or to his nephew.
And to that end he wrote to the queen (it was queen Mary) and
besought her, " That she would cause his nephew Thomas Wot-
ton, to be sent for out of Kent ; and that the lords of her council
might interrogate him in some such feigned questions as might
give a colour for his commitment into a favourable prison ; de-
claring that he would acquaint her majesty with the true reason
of his request when he should next become so happy as to see
and speak to her majesty."

It was done as the dean desired ; and in prison I must leave
Mr. Wotton till I have told the reader what followed.

At this time a marriage was concluded betwixt our queen
Mary and Philip king of Spain ; and though this was concluded
with the advice, if not by the persuasion of her privy council, as
having many probabilities of advantage to this nation, yet divers
persons of a contrary persuasion did not only declare against it,
but also raised forces to oppose it ; believing (as they said) it
would be a means to bring England to be under a subjection to
Spain, and make those of this nation slaves to strangers.

And of this number sir Thomas Wyat, of Boxley Abbey, in
Kent, (betwixt whose family and the family of the Wottons there
had been an ancient and entire friendship) was the principal

d St. Austin's Confessions, book iii. ch. ii.

76 SIR HENRY WOTTON.

actor ; who having persuaded many of the nobility and gentry
(especially in Kent) to side with him, and he being defeated and
taken prisoner, was legally arraigned and condemned, and lost
his life 6 : so did the duke of Suffolk, and divers others, especially
many of the gentry of Kent, who were there in several places
executed as Wyat^s assistants.

And of this number, in all probability, had Mr. Wotton been
if he had not been confined ; for though he could not be ignorant
that another man's treason makes it mine by concealing it, yet
he durst confess to his uncle, when he returned into England,
and then came to visit him in prison, that he had more than an
intimation of Wyat's intentions, and thought he had not con-
tinued actually innocent if his uncle had not so happily dreamed
him into a prison ; out of which place when he was delivered by
the same hand that caused his commitment, they both considered
the dream more seriously, and then both joined in praising God
for it ; that God who ties himself to no rules, either in preventing
of evil, or in shewing of mercy to those whom of good pleasure he
hath chosen to love.

And this dream was the more considerable, because that God,
who in the days of old did use to speak to his people in visions,
did seem to speak to many of this family in dreams ; of which I
will also give the reader one short particular of this Thomas
Wotton, whose dreams did usually prove true, both in foretelling
things to come and discovering things past ; and the particular is
this : — This Thomas, a little before his death, dreamed that the
university treasury was robbed by townsmen and poor scholars ;
and that the number was five : and being that day to write to his
son Henry at Oxford, he thought it worth so much pains as by a
postscript in his letter to make a slight inquiry of it. The letter
(which was writ out of Kent, and dated three days before,) canic
to his son's hands the very morning after the night in which the
robbery was committed; and when the city and university \v.-n-
both in a perplexed inquest of the thieves, then did sir Henry
\Vntton shew his fathers letter, and by it such light was gi\«'ii
of this work of darkness, that the five guilty persons were pre-
sently discovered and apprehended, without putting the university
to so much trouble as the casting of a figun .

6 Lost his life.] He was beheaded, April llth, 1554.

7 Casting a figure J] In our days it sounds strangely that the university of
Oxford should have resorted to astrology.

SIR HENRY WOTTON. 77

And it may yet be more considerable, that this Nicholas and
Thomas Wotton should both (being men of holy lives, of even
tempers, and much given to fasting and prayer,) foresee and fore-
tell the very days of their own death. Nicholas did so, being
then seventy years of age, and in perfect health. Thomas did the
like in the sixty-fifth year of his age, who being then in London
(where he died) and foreseeing his death there, gave direction in
what manner his body should be carried to Bocton ; and though
he thought his uncle Nicholas worthy of that noble monument 8
which he built for him in the cathedral church of Canterbury, yet
this humble man gave direction concerning himself to be buried
privately, and especially without any pomp at his funeral. — This
is some account of this family, which seemed to be beloved of
God.

But it may now seem more than time that I return to sir Henry
Wotton at Oxford, where, after his optic lecture, he was taken
into such a bosom friendship with the learned Albericus Gentilis
(whom I formerly named) that if it had been possible Gentilis
would have breathed all his excellent knowledge, both of the
mathematics and law, into the breast of his dear Harry, (for so
Gentilis used to call him) and though he was not able to do that,
yet there was in sir Henry such a propensity and connaturalness
to the Italian language, and those studies whereof Gentilis was
a great master, that this friendship between them did daily
increase, and prove daily advantageous to sir Henry, for the
improvement of him in several sciences during his stay in the
university.

From which place, before I shall invite the reader to follow him
into a foreign nation, though I must omit to mention divers per-
sons that were then in Oxford, of memorable note for learning,
and friends to sir Henry Wotton, yet I must not oinit the men-
tion of a love that was there begun between him and Dr. Donne,
(sometime dean of St. Paul's,) a man of whose abilities I shall
forbear to say any thing, because he who is of this nation, and
pretends to learning or ingenuity, and is ignorant of Dr. Donne,
deserves not to know him. The friendship of these two I must

8 That noble monument.'] Of which an engraving by Cole is in Dart's
History of Canterbury Cathedral: a smaller engraving is in Hasted's History
of Kent.

78 SIR HENRY WOTTON.

not omit to mention, being such a friendship as was generously
elemented : and as it was begun in their youth, and in an univer-
sity, and there maintained by correspondent inclinations and
studies, so it lasted till age and death forced a separation.

In Oxford he staid till about two years after his father's death,
at which time he was about the two and twentieth year of his
age ; and having to his great wit added the ballast of learning,
and knowledge of the arts, he then laid aside his books, and be-
took himself to the useful library of travel, and a more general
conversation with mankind ; employing the remaining part of his
youth, his industry and fortune, to adorn his mind, and to pur-
chase the rich treasure of foreign knowledge ; of which, both for
the secrets of nature, the dispositions of many nations, their
several laws and languages, he was the possessor in a very large
measure, as I shall faithfully make to appear, before I take my
pen from the following narration of his life.

In his travels, which was almost nine years before his return
into England, he staid but one year in France, and most of that
in Geneva, where he became acquainted with Theodore Beza
(then very aged), and with Isaac Casaubon, in whose house (if I
be rightly informed) sir Henry Wotton was lodged, and there
contracted a most worthy friendship9 with that man of rare
learning and ingenuity.

Three of the remaining eight years were spent in Germany,
the other five in Italy (the stage on which God appointed he
should act a great part of his life) where both in Rome, Venice,
and Florence, he became acquainted with the most eminent men
for learning, and all manner of arts; as picture, sculpture,
chemistry, architecture, and other manual arts, even arts of
inferior nature ; of all which he was a most dear lover, and a
most excellent judge.

He returned out of Italy into England about the thirtieth
year of his age, being then noted by many, both for his person
and comportment ; for indeed he was of choice shape, tall
of stature, and of a most persuasive behaviour; which u;i>
so mixed with sweet discourse, and civilities, as gained him

" Worthy friendship.'] Wotton's improvidence in pecuniary matters ap-
pears to have brought Casaubon, who had become his bondsman, into very
considerable anxiety and difficulty. The matter however, in the end, was
settled satisfactorily. This was in the years 1594 and 1595. See Isaaci
Casauboni Epiatobr, fol. 17<M>. p. 11. 12. 1:1. 17. 19.

SIR HENRY WOTTON. 79

much love from all persons with whom he entered into an
acquaintance.

And whereas he was noted in his youth to have a sharp wit,
and apt to jest ; that by time, travel, and conversation, was so
polished, and made so useful, that his company seemed to be one
of the delights of mankind ; insomuch as Robert earl of Essex
(then one of the darlings of fortune, and in greatest favour with
queen Elizabeth) invited him first into a friendship, and after a
knowledge of his great abilities, to be one of his secretaries ;
(the other being Mr. Henry Cuife, sometime of Merton college
in Oxford ; and there also the acquaintance of sir Henry Wotton
in his youth ; Mr. Cuffe being then a man of no common note
in the university for his learning; nor after his removal from
that place, for the great abilities of his mind ; nor indeed, for the
fatalness of his end.)

Sir Henry Wotton being now taken into a serviceable friend-
ship with the earl of Essex, did personally attend his counsels
and employments in two voyages at sea against the Spaniards,
and also in that (which was the earl's last) into Ireland ; that
voyage wherein he then did so much provoke the queen to anger,
and worse at his return into England ; upon whose immoveable
favour the earl had built such sandy hopes, as encouraged him
to those undertakings, which with the help of a contrary faction
suddenly caused his commitment to the Tower.

Sir Henry Wotton observing this, though he was not of that
faction (for the earl's followers were also divided into their several
interests) which encouraged the earl to those undertakings which
proved so fatal to him, and divers of his confederation ; yet,
knowing treason to be so comprehensive, as to take in even cir-
cumstances, and out of them to make such positive conclusions as
subtle statesmen shall project, either for their revenge or safety ;
considering this, he thought prevention by absence out of England,
a better security than to stay in it, and there plead his innocence
in a prison. Therefore did he, so soon as the earl was appre-
hended, very quickly, and as privately glide through Kent to
Dover, without so much as looking toward his native and beloved
Bocton ; and was by the help of favourable winds and liberal
payment of the mariners, within sixteen hours after his departure
from London, set upon the French shore; where he heard
shortly after, that the earl was arraigned, condemned, and be-

80 SIR HENRY WOTTOX.

headed ! ; and that his friend Mr. Cuffe was hanged, and divers
other persons of eminent quality executed.

The times did not look so favourably upon sir Henry Wotton,
as to invite his return into England ; having therefore procured
of sir Edward Wotton, his elder brother, an assurance that his
annuity should be paid him in Italy, thither he went, happily
renewing his intermitted friendship and interest, and indeed, his
great content in a new conversation with his old acquaintance in
that nation ; and more particularly in Florence (which city is
not more eminent for the great duke^s court, than for the great
recourse of men of choicest note for learning and arts,) in which
number he there met with his old friend seignior Vietta ', a gen-
tleman of Venice, and then taken to be secretary to the great
duke of Tuscany 3.

After some stay in Florence, he went the fourth time to visit
Rome, where in the English college he had very many friends
(their humanity made them really so, though they knew him to be
a dissenter from many of their principles of religion,) and having
enjoyed their company, and satisfied himself concerning some
curiosities that did partly occasion his journey thither, he returned
back to Florence, where a most notable accident befell him ; an
accident that did not only find new employment for his choice
abilities, but introduce him to a knowledge and an interest with
our king James, then king of Scotland ; which I shall proceed
to relate.

But first, I am to tell the reader, that though queen Elizabeth
(or she and her council) were never willing to declare her suc-
cessor; yet James then king of the Scots, was confidently
believed by most to be the man upon whom the sweet trouble of
kingly government would be imposed ; and the queen declining
very fast, both by age and visible infirmities, those that were of
the Romish persuasion in point of religion (even Rome itself, and
those of this nation) knowing that the death of the queen, and
the establishing of her successor, were taken to be critical
days for destroying or establishing the protestant religion in this

1 Beheaded.] In 1600.

2 Seignior Vietta.] Who is not to be confounded with the great mathema-
tician Francois Viete, then living, a Frenchman, born at Fontenay, in Poitou,
and master of requests to Margaret of Valois.

3 Great duke of Tuscany.] Ferdinand de* Medici.

SIR HENRY WOTTON. 81

nation, did therefore improve all opportunities for preventing a
protestant prince to succeed her. And as the pope's excom-
munication 4 of queen Elizabeth, had both by the judgment and
practice of the jesuited papist, exposed her to be warrantably
destroyed ; so (if we may believe an angry adversary 5, a " secular
priest against a Jesuit ") you may believe, that about that time
there were many endeavours, first to excommunicate, and then to
shorten the life of king James.

Immediately after sir Henry Wotton's return from Rome to
Florence (which was about a year before the death of queen
Elizabeth) Ferdinand the great duke of Florence had intercepted
certain letters that discovered a design to take away the life of
James the then king of Scots. The duke abhorring the fact,
and resolving to endeavour a prevention of it, advised with his
secretary Vietta, by what means a caution might be best given
to that king ; and after consideration, it was resolved to be done
by sir Henry Wotton, whom Vietta first commended to the duke,
and the duke had noted and approved of above all the English
that frequented his court.

Sir Henry was gladly called by his friend Vietta to the duke,
who after much profession of trust and friendship, acquainted him
with the secret ; and being well instructed, dispatched him into
Scotland with letters to the king, and with those letters, such
Italian antidotes against poison, as the Scots till then had been
strangers to.

Having parted from the duke, he took up the name and lan-
guage of an Italian ; and thinking it best to avoid the line of
English intelligence and danger; he posted into Norway, and
through that country towards Scotland, where he found the king
at Stirling ; being there, he used means by Bernard Lindsey 6,

4 Pope's excommunication^] Pius V.'s in 1576. "It deposed the queen's
majesty from her royal seat, and tore the crown from her head. It discharged
all her natural subjects from all due obedience. It armed one side of them
against another. It emboldened them to burn, to spoil, to rob, to kill, to
cut one another's throats ; like Pandora's box sent to Epimetheus, full of
hurtful and unwholesome evils." Bp. Jewel.

5 An angry adversary .] William Watson, who was hanged in 1603, with
William Clark and George Brooke, the brother of lord Cobham. The titles of
his books are, 1. Dialogue betwixt a Secular Priest and a Lay Gentleman, 4to.,
Rhemes, 1601. 2. Decachordon of Ten Quodlibeticall Questions concerning
Religion and State, 4to., 1602.

6 Bernard Lindsey.'] So read all the editions, as if a cadet of the houses of

VOL. IV. G

82 SIR HENRY WOTTON.

one of the king's bedchamber, to procure him a speedy and
private conference with his majesty, assuring him, "That the
business which he was to negotiate, was of such consequence as
had caused the great duke of Tuscany to enjoin him suddenly to
leave his native country of Italy, to impart it to his king."

This being by Bernard Lindsey made known to the king, the
king after a little wonder (mixed with jealousy) to hear of an
Italian ambassador, or messenger, required his name (which was
said to be Octavio Baldi) and appointed him to be heard privately
at a fixed hour that evening.

When Octavio Baldi came to the presence-chamber door, he
was requested to lay aside his long rapier (which Italian-like he
then wore) and being entered the chamber, he found there with
the king three or four Scotch lords standing distant in several
corners of the chamber ; at the sight of whom he made a stand ;
which the king observing, "bade him be bold, and deliver his
message ; for he would undertake for the secrecy of all that were
present." Then did Octavio Baldi deliver his letters and his
message to the king in Italian; which, when the king had
graciously received, after a little pause, Octavio Baldi steps to
the table and whispers to the king in his own language, that he
was an Englishman, beseeching him for a more private conference
with his majesty, and that he might be concealed during his
stay in that nation ; which was promised, and really performed
by the king during all his abode there, (which was about three
months) all which time was spent with much pleasantness to the
king, and with as much to Octavio Baldi himself, as that country
could afford ; from which he departed as true an Italian 7, as he
came thither.

To the duke of Florence he returned with a fair and grateful
account of his employment, and within some few months after
his return, there came certain news to Florence, that queen
Elizabeth was dead ; and James king of the Scots proclaimed
king of England. The duke knowing travel and business to be
the best schools of wisdom, and that sir Henry Wotton had been
tutored in both, advised him to return presently to England, and

Crawford or Balcarres were meant : the real person was Bernard Lindley,
mentioned by the scandalous chronicler Weldon as one of the Scots who
obtained large grants from James, after his accession to the English throne.
7 As true an Italian.] Meaning that his disguise was not discovered.

SIR HENRY WOTTON. 83

there joy the king with his new and better title, and wait there
upon fortune for a better employment.

When king James came into England, he found, amongst
other of the late queen's officers, sir Edward, who was after lord
Wotton, comptroller of the house, of whom he demanded, " If
he knew one Henry Wotton, that had spent much time in foreign
travel 2" the lord replied, he knew him well, and that he was his
brother ; then the king asking where he then was, was answered,
at Venice, or Florence ; but by late letters from thence, he
understood he would suddenly be at Paris. " Send for him,"
said the king, " and when he shall come into England, bid him
repair privately to me." The lord Wotton after a little wonder,
asked the king, " if he knew him ?" to which the king answered,
" You must rest unsatisfied of that, till you bring the gentleman
to me."

Not many months after this discourse, the lord Wotton brought
his brother to attend the king, who took him in his arms, and
bade him welcome by the name of Octavio Baldi, saying, " he
was the most honest, and therefore the best dissembler that ever
he met with:" and said, "Seeing I know you neither want
learning, travel, nor experience, and that I have had so real a
testimony of your faithfulness and abilities to manage an ambas-
sage, I have sent for you to declare my purpose ; which is, to
make use of you in that kind hereafter :" and indeed the king
did so most of those two and twenty years of his reign ; but
before he dismist Octavio Baldi from his present attendance upon
him, he restored him to his old name of Henry Wotton, by which
he then knighted him.

Not long after this, the king having resolved, according to his
motto (Beati pacifici) to have a friendship with his neighbour-
kingdoms of France and Spain 8, and also for divers weighty rea-
sons, to enter into an alliance with the state of Venice, and to
that end to send ambassadors to those several places, did propose
the choice of these employments to sir Henry Wotton ; who
considering the smallness of his own estate (which he never took

8 France and Spain.'] With France Elizabeth had always maintained a close
alliance, but even to the day of her death she held no diplomatic intercourse
with Spain. By James, soon after his accession, sir Charles Cornwallis was sent
to Spain, where he remained for several years. His negotiations are in the
British Museum, and many of them have been printed in Winwood's memo-
rials. Sir Thomas Parry was the ambassador sent by James to France.

84 SIR HENRY WOTTON.

care to augment) and knowing the courts of great princes to be
sumptuous, and necessarily expensive, inclined most to that of
Venice 9, as being a place of more retirement, and best suiting
with his genius, who did ever love to join with business, study,
and a trial of natural experiments ; for both which fruitful Italy,
that darling of nature, and cherisher of all arts, is so justly famed
in all parts of the Christian world.

Sir Henry having after some short time and consideration,
resolved upon Venice, and a large allowance being appointed by
the king for his voyage thither, and settled maintenance during
his stay there, he left England, nobly accompanied through
France to Venice, by gentlemen of the best families and breeding
that this nation afforded. They were too many to name, but
these two, for following reasons may not be omitted ; sir Al-
bertus Morton1 his nephew, who went his secretary; and William
Bedel 2, a man of choice learning, and sanctified wisdom, who went
his chaplain. And though his dear friend doctor Donne (then a
private gentleman) was not one of that number that did personally
accompany him in this voyage, yet the reading of this following
letter sent by him to sir Henry Wotton, the morning before he
left England, may testify he wanted not his friend's best wishes
to attend him.

After those reverend papers, whose soul is

Our good, and great king's loved hand, and feared name :

By which to you he derives much of his,
And how he may, makes you almost the same :

A taper of his torch ; a copy writ

From his original, and a fair beam
Of the same warm and dazzling sun, though it

Must in another sphere his virtue stream :

9 That of Venice.] With the seignory of Venice Elizabeth had held no
intercourse. She neither sent nor received an ambassador throughout her
long reign. Immediately upon her death, the secretary of the republic, Sca-
ramelli, was sent to congratulate James. The Venetian ambassadors in France
were ordered to come over to England for the same purpose, and for more
than a century and a half, with scarcely any intermission, a Venetian resident
was at the court of England.

1 Sir Albertus Morton his nephew.] Sir Albertus Morton was not Wotton's
nephew, but his half-brother. See p. 72.

- William Bedel.] Afterwards bishop of Kilmore, whose life has been
written by bishop Burnet.

SIR HENRY WOTTON. 85

After those learned papers which your hand

Hath stored with notes of use and pleasure too ;

From which rich treasury you may command
Fit matter whether you will write or do :

After those loving papers which friends send
With glad grief to your sea-ward steps farewel,

And thicken on you now as prayers ascend

To heaven on troops at a good man's passing-bell :

Admit this honest paper ; and allow

It such an audience as yourself would ask ;
What you would say at Venice, this says now,

And has for nature what you have for task :

To swear much love ; nor to be changed before

Honour alone will to your fortune fit ;
Nor shall I then honour your fortune more,

Than I have done your honour-wanting wit.

But 'tis an easier load (though both oppress)

To want, than govern greatness ; for we are
In that, our own and only business ;

In this, we must for others vices care.

'Tis therefore well, your spirits now are plac'd

In their last furnace, in activity ;
Which fits them : schools, and courts, and wars o'er past

To touch and taste in any best degree.

For me ! (if there be such a thing as I)

Fortune (if there be such a thing as she)
Finds that I bear so well her tyranny,

That she thinks nothing else so fit for me.

But though she part us, to hear my oft prayers

For your increase, God is as near me here :
And to send you what I shall beg, his stairs

In length and ease, are alike every where.

J. DONNE.

Sir Henry Wotton was received by the state of Venice with
much honour and gladness, both for that he delivered his ambas-
sage most elegantly in the Italian language, and came also in
such a juncture of time, as his master's friendship seemed useful
for that republic. The time of his coming thither was about the
year 1604, Leonardo Donato being then duke ; a wise and re-
solved man, and to all purposes such (sir Henry Wotton would
often say it) as the state of Venice could not then have wanted ;
there having been formerly in the time of pope Clement the

86 SIR HENRY WOTTON.

eighth3, some contests about the privileges of churchmen, and
power of the civil magistrate ; of which for the information of
common readers, I shall say a little, because it may give light to
some passages that follow.

About the year 1603, the republic of Venice made several
injunctions against lay-persons giving lands or goods to the
church, without licence from the civil magistrate ; and in that
inhibition they expressed their reasons to be, " For that when
any goods or land once came into the hands of the ecclesiastics,
it was not subject to alienation; by reason whereof (the lay-
people being at their death charitable even to excess) the clergy
grew every day more numerous, and pretended an exemption
from all public service, and taxes, and from all secular judgment :
so that the burden grew thereby too heavy to be borne by the
laity."

Another occasion of difference was, that about this time com-
plaints were justly made by the Venetians against two clergymen,
the abbot of Nervesa, and a canon of Vicenza, for committing
such sins, as I think not fit to name : nor are these mentioned
with an intent to fix a scandal upon any calling ; (for holiness is
not tied to ecclesiastical orders, and Italy is observed to breed
the most virtuous and most vicious men of any nation.) These
two having been long complained of at Rome in the name of the
state of Venice, and no satisfaction being given to the Venetians,
they seized the persons of this abbot and canon, and committed
them to prison.

The justice, or injustice of such or the like power, then used
by the Venetians, had formerly had some calm debates betwixt
the former pope Clement the eighth, and that republic : I say,
calm, for he did not excommunicate them ; considering (as I con-
ceive) that in the late council of Trent it was at last (after many
politique disturbances, and delays, and endeavours to preserve the
pope's present power) in order to a general reformation of those
many errors, which were in time crept into the church, declared
by that council *, " That though discipline, and especially excom-
munication, be one of the chief sinews of church government,
and intended to keep men in obedience to it : for which end, it

8 Clement the eighth.'] Ippolito Aldobrandini, pope from 7th February,
1592, to 5th March, 1605.
4 By that council.] Concil. Trident, sets. xrv. cap. iii.

SIR HENRY WOTTON. 87

was declared to be very profitable ; yet, it was also declared and
advised to be used with great sobriety and care : because expe-
rience had informed them, that when it was pronounced unad-
visedly, or rashly, it became more contemned than feared." And,
though this was the advice of that council at the conclusion of it
which was not many years before this quarrel with the Vene-
tians ; yet this prudent, patient pope Clement dying, pope Paul
the fifth 5, who succeeded him (though not immediately 6, yet in
the same year) being a man of a much hotter temper, brought this
difference with the Venetians 7 to a much higher contention : ob-
jecting those late acts of that state to be a diminution of his just
power, and limited a time of twenty-four days for their revoca-
tion ; threatening, if he were not obeyed, to proceed to excommu-
nication of the republic, who still offered to show both reason and
antient custom to warrant their actions. But this pope, contrary
to his predecessor's moderation, required absolute obedience
without disputes.

Thus it continued for about a year ; the pope still threatening
excommunication, and the Venetians still answering him with
fair speeches, and no compliance, till at last, the pope's zeal to
the apostolic see did make him excommunicate the duke, the
whole senate, and all their dominions ; and that done to shut up
all their churches ; charging the whole clergy to forbear all sacred
offices to the Venetians, till their obedience should render them
capable of absolution.

But this act of the pope's did but the more confirm the Vene-
tians in their resolution not to obey him. And to that end, upon
the hearing of the pope's interdict, they presently published by
sound of trumpet, a proclamation to this effect :

" That whosoever hath received from Rome any copy of a papal
interdict, published there, as well against the law of God, as
against the honour of this nation, shall presently render it to the

5 Paul the fifth.} Camillo Borghese, pope from 16th May, 1 605, to 28th
January, 1621.

6 Not immediately.'] After the death of Clement VIII., the cardinal of
Florence, Alessandro Ottaviano de' Medici, had been elected pope, 1st April,
1605, and he had taken the title of Leo XL, but he died on the 27th of the
same month.

7 Difference with the Venetians.'] A volume might be filled merely with an
account of what has been written on both sides respecting this celebrated
dispute and the consequent interdict.

88 SIR HENRY WOTTON.

council of ten, upon pain of death." And they made it loss of
estate and nobility, but to speak in the behalf of the Jesuits.

Then was Duado * their ambassador called home from Rome,
and the Inquisition presently suspended by order of the state ;
and the flood-gates being thus set open, any man that had a plea-
sant or scoffing wit might safely vent it against the pope, either
by free speaking, or by libels in print ; and both became very
pleasant to the people.

Matters thus heightened, the state advised with father Paul, a
holy and learned frier (the author of the History of the Council
of Trent, whose advice was, " Neither to provoke the pope, nor
lose their own right :" he declaring publicly in print, in the name
of the state, " That the pope was trusted to keep two keys ; one
of prudence and the other of power : and that if they were not
both used together, power alone is not effectual in an excommu-
nication."

And thus these discontents and oppositions continued, till a
report was blown abroad, that the Venetians were all turned pro-
testants : which was believed by many, for that it was observed,
the English ambassador was so often in conference with the
senate, and his chaplain Mr. Bedel more often with father Paul 9,
whom the people did not take to be his friend : and also, for that
the republic of Venice was known to give commission to Gregory
Justiniano *, then their ambassador in England, to make all these
proceedings known to the king of England, and to crave a pro-
mise of his assistance, if need should require : and in the mean-
time they required the king's advice and judgment ; which was
the same that he gave to pope Clement, at his first coming to the
crown of England ; (that pope then moving him to an union with
the Roman church) namely, u To endeavour the calling of a free
council, for the settlement of peace in Christendom : and, that he
doubted not, but that the French king, and divers other princes
would join to assist in so good a work ; and in the mean time,
the sin of this breach, both with his, and the Venetians'1 dominions,
must of necessity lye at the pope's door."

8 Was Duado. .] More correctly Duodo. Pietro Duodo was ambassador in
England with Badoero, in 1603 : there is still extant in the British Museum
an original letter of sir Henry Wotton, in which the circumstances here
alluded to are given.

9 Father Paul.'] Paolo Sarpi.

1 Gregory Justiniano.'] Or Giorgio Giustiniani, ambassador in 1606.

SIR HENRY WOTTON. 89

In this contention (which lasted almost two years) the pope
grew still higher, and the Venetians more and more resolved and
careless : still acquainting king James with their proceedings,
which was done by the help of sir Henry Wotton, Mr. Bedel,
and Padre Paulo, whom the Venetians did then call to be one of
their consulters of state, and with his pen to defend their just
cause : which was by him so performed, that the pope saw plainly,
he had weakened his power by exceeding it, and offered the
Venetians absolution upon very easy terms ; which the Venetians
still slighting, did at last obtain, by that which was scarce so
much as a shew of acknowledging it : for, they made an order,
that in that day in which they were absolved, there should be no
public rejoicing, nor any bonfires that night, lest the common
people might judge, that they desired an absolution, or were ab-
solved for committing a fault.

These contests were the occasion of Padre Paulo's knowledge
and interest with king James, for whose sake principally Padre
Paulo compiled that eminent History of the remarkable Council
of Trent ; which history was, as fast as it was written, sent in
several sheets in letters by sir Henry Wotton, Mr. Bedel, and
others, unto king James, and the then bishop of Canterbury, into
England, and there first made public, both in English and in the
universal language 2.

For eight years after sir Henry Wotton's going into Italy, he
stood fair and highly valued in the king's opinion, but at last
became much clouded by an accident, which I shall proceed to
relate.

At his first going ambassador into Italy, as he passed through
Germany, he stayed some days at Augusta 3 ; where having been
in his former travels well known by many of the best note for
learning and ingeniousness (those that are esteemed the virtuosi
of that nation) with whom he passing an evening in merriment,
was requested by Christopher Flecamore to write some sentence
in his albo : (a book of white paper, which for that purpose many
of the German gentry usually * carry about them) and sir Henry
Wotton consenting to the motion, took an occasion from some

" Universal language.'] Latin.

3 Augusta.~\ Augsburg.

1 Usually J\ In the British Museum are several hundred of these albums.

90 SIR HENRY WOTTON.

accidental discourse of the present company, to write a pleasant
definition of an ambassador, in these very words :

" Legatus est vir bonus peregre missus ad mentiendum reipublicae causa."

Which sir Henry Wotton could have been content should have
been thus Englished :

" An ambassador is an honest man, sent to lie abroad for the good of his
country."

But the word for lie (being the hinge upon which the conceit *
was to turn) was not so exprest in Latin, as would admit (in the
hands of an enemy especially) so fair a construction as sir Henry
thought in English. Yet as it was, it slept quietly among other
sentences in this albo, almost eight years, till by accident it fell
into the hands of Jasper Scioppius, a Romanist, a man of a rest-
less spirit, and a malicious pen : who with books against king
James, prints this as a principle of that religion professed by the
king, and his ambassador sir Henry Wotton, then at Venice:
and in Venice it was presently after written in several glass win-
dows, and spitefully declared to be sir Henry Wotton's.

This coming to the knowledge of king James, he apprehended
it to be such an oversight, such a weakness, or worse, in sir
Henry Wotton, as caused the king to express much wrath
against him : and this caused sir Henry Wotton to write two
apologies, one to Velserus 6 (one of the chiefs of Augusta) in
the universal language, which he caused to be printed, and given,
and scattered in the most remarkable places both of Germany
and Italy, as an antidote against the venomous books of Sciop-
pius ; and another apology to king James : which were both so
ingenious, so clear, and so choicely eloquent, that his majesty
(who was a pure judge of it) could not forbear, at the receipt
thereof, to declare publicly, " That sir Henry Wotton had com-
muted sufficiently for a greater offence."

And now, as broken bones well set become stronger, so sir
Henry Wotton did not only recover, but was much more con-

6 The conceit. ~\ Being a mere pun upon the term lieger, to lie or remain in
a place, applied commonly to a resident or fixed ambassador. The word was
used in monasteries, which had their lieger books, or books which lay open
for entries, and it is still used in every counting-house. It is probably also
the log book of the seamen.

* To Velserus.'] Marc Welser, prefect of Augsburg.

SIR HENRY WOTTON. 91

firmed in his majesty's estimation and favour than formerly he
had been.

And as that man of great wit and useful fancy (his friend Dr.
Donne) gave in a will of his (a will of conceits) his reputation to
his friends, and his industry to his foes, because from thence he
received both : so those friends, that in this time of trial la-
boured to excuse this facetious freedom of sir Henry Wotton's,
were to him more dear, and by him more highly valued : and
those acquaintance that urged this as an advantage against him,
caused him by this error to grow both more wise, and (which is
the best fruit error can bring forth) for the future to become
more industriously watchful over his tongue and pen.

I have told you a part of his employment in Italy ; where not-
withstanding the death of his favourer, the duke Leonardo Do-
nato, who had an undissembled affection for him, and the mali-
cious accusation of Scioppius, yet his interest (as though it had
been an intailed love) was still found to live and increase in all
the succeeding dukes, during his employment to that state, which
was almost twenty years ; all which time he studied the disposi-
tions of those dukes, and the other consulters of state ; well
knowing, that he who negociates a continued business, and
neglects the study of the dispositions, usually fails in his proposed
ends : but in this sir Henry Wotton did not fail : for by a fine
sorting of fit presents, curious and not costly entertainments,
always sweetened by various and pleasant discourse ; with which,
and his choice application of stories, and his elegant delivery of
all these, even in their Italian language, he first got, and still
preserved such interest in the state of Venice, that it was ob-
served (such was either his merit, or his modesty) they never
denied him any request.

But all this shews but his abilities, and his fitness for that
employment : it will therefore be needful to tell the reader, what
use he made of the interest which these procured him ; and that
indeed was, rather to oblige others than to enrich himself; he
still endeavouring that the reputation of the English might be
maintained, both in the German empire and in Italy ; where many
gentlemen whom travel had invited into that nation, received
from him cheerful entertainments, advice for their behaviour,
and by his interest shelter, or deliverance from those accidental
storms of adversity which usually attend upon travel.

And because these things may appear to the reader to be but

92 SIR HENRY WOTTON.

generals, I shall acquaint him with two particular examples : one
of his merciful disposition, and one of the nobleness of his mind ;
which shall follow.

There had been many English soldiers brought by commanders
of their own country, to serve the Venetians for pay against the
Turks ; and those English, having by irregularities, or improvi-
dence, brought themselves into several gallies and prisons, sir
Henry Wotton became a petitioner to that state for their lives
and enlargement ; and his request was granted : so that those
(which were many hundreds, and there made the sad examples
of human misery, by hard imprisonment, and unpitied poverty in
a strange nation) were by his means released, relieved, and in a
comfortable condition sent to thank God and him for their lives
and liberty in their own country.

And this 1 have observed as one testimony of the compas-
sionate nature of him, who was (during his stay in those parts)
as a city of refuge for the distressed of this and other nations.

And for that which I offer as a testimony of the nobleness
of his mind, I shall make way to the reader's clearer under-
standing of it, by telling him, that beside several other foreign
employments, sir Henry Wotton was sent thrice ambassador f to
the republic of Venice ; and at his last going thither, he was
employed ambassador to several of the German princes, and more
particularly to the emperor Ferdinando the second ; and that his
employment to him, and those princes, was to incline them to
equitable conditions, for the restauration of the queen of Bo-
hemia 8, and her descendants, to their patrimonial inheritance of
the palatinate.

This was by his eight months constant endeavours and at-
tendance upon the emperor, his court and council, brought to
a probability of a successful conclusion without blood-shed : but
there was at that time two opposite armies in the field ; and as
they were treating, there was a battle fought 9 ; in the managery
whereof, there was so many miserable errors on the one side, (so
sir Henry Wotton expresses it in a dispatch to the king) and

^ Thrice ambassador.] In March, 1604; in 1605 (Harl. MS. 1875, art. 17,
&c.) and 1622 (see Cabala, p. 364).

8 Queen of Bohemia.] Elizabeth of England, daughter of James I., and
wife of the palgrave, or elector palatine Frederic, who had forfeited his domi-
nions by his assumption of the throne of Bohemia.

9 Battle fouyht.] The battle of Prague, November, 1620.

SIR HENRY WOTTON. 93

so advantageous events to the emperor, as put an end to all
present hopes of a successful treaty : so that sir Henry, seeing
the face of peace altered by that victory, prepared for a removal
from that court ; and at his departure from the emperor, was so
bold as to remember him, " That the events of every battle move
on the unseen wheels of fortune, which are this moment up, and
down the next : and therefore humbly advised him to use his
victory so soberly, as still to put on thoughts of peace." Which
advice, though it seemed to be spoke with some passion, (his
dear mistress the queen of Bohemia being concerned in it) was
yet taken in good part by the emperor; who replied, " That he
would consider his advice : and though he looked on the king his
master as an abettor of his enemy the Palsgrave ; yet for sir
Henry himself, his behaviour had been such during the manage
of the treaty, that he took him to be a person of much honour
and merit, and did therefore desire him to accept of that jewel,
as a testimony of his good opinion of him ;" which was a jewel of
diamonds of more value than a thousand pounds.

This jewel was received with all outward circumstances and
terms of honour by sir Henry Wotton : but the next morning,
at his departing from Vienna, he at his taking leave of the
countess of Sabrina (an Italian lady, in whose house the emperor
had appointed him to be lodged, and honourably entertained)
acknowledged her merits, and besought her to accept of that
jewel, as a testimony of his gratitude for her civilities ; presenting
her with the same that was given him by the emperor : which
being suddenly discovered, and told to the emperor, was by him
taken for a high affront, and sir Henry Wotton told so by a
messenger. To which he replied, " That though he received it
with thankfulness, yet he found in himself an indisposition to be
the better for any gift that came from an enemy to his royal
mistress the queen of Bohemia;" for so she was pleased he
should always call her.

Many other of his services to his prince, and this nation, might
be insisted upon : as namely, his procurations of privileges and
courtesies with the German princes, and the republic of Venice,
for the English merchants ; and what he did by direction of king
James with the Venetian state, concerning the bishop of Spalato's
return l to the church of Rome. But for the particulars of these

1 The bishop of Spalato's return.'] See M. Ant. de Dominis archbishop of

94 SIR HENRY WOTTON.

and many more that I meant to make known, I want a view of
some papers that might inform me (his late majesty^s letter office
having now suffered* a strange alienation) and indeed I want
time too, for the printer's press stays for what is written : so that
I must haste to bring sir Henry Wotton in an instant from Venice
to London, leaving the reader to make up what is defective in
this place by the small supplement of the inscription under his
arms, which he left at all those houses where he rested, or lodged,
when he returned from his last embassy into England.

" Henricus Wottonius Anglo-Cantianus, Thomae optimi viri
filius natu minimus, a serenissimo Jacobo I. Mag. Britt. rege,
in equestrem titulum adscitus, ejusdemque ter ad rempublicam
Venetam legatus ordinarius, semel ad confoederatarum provin-
ciarum ordines in Juliacensi negotio ; bis ad Carolum Emanuel,
Sabaudise ducem ; semel ad unitos superioris Germanise principes
in Conventu Heilbrunensi ; postremo ad archiducem Leopoldum,
ducem Wittembergensem, civitates imperiales, Argentinam,
Ulmamque, et ipsum Eomanorum imperatorem Ferdinandum
secundum, legatus extraordinarius, tandem hoc didicit,

" Animas fieri sapientiores quiescendo."

To London he came the year before 8 king James died ; who
having for the reward of his foreign service, promised him the
reversion of an office which was fit to be turned into present
money, which he wanted, for a supply of his present necessities,
also granted him the reversion of the master of the rolls place,
if he out-lived charitable sir Julius Caesar, who then possessed it,
and then was grown so old, that he was said to be kept alive
beyond nature's course, by the prayers of those many poor which
he daily relieved.

Spalato, his shif tings in Religion. London, printed by John Bill, A.D. 1624 ;
Heylin's Life of archbishop Laud, p. 107 — 9; Banvick's Life of bishop
Morton, p. 85—8 ; Wood's Annals, vol. ii. p. 328, &c.

A copy of the first tract, as we learn from the Address to the Reader,
" was by his majesty's special commandment sent to sir H. Wotton, his
majesty's ambassador ordinary with the state of Venice, that he might, as
occasion served, inform that state concerning the true carriage of that busi-
ness with the archbishop."

8 Now suffered. ] This Life was first published in the year 1651; a date
which sufficiently accounts for the tone of expression in this passage.

3 Year before.] 1624.

SIR HENRY WOTTON. 95

But, these were but in hope ; and his condition required a
present support. For in the beginning of these employments he
sold to his elder brother the lord Wotton, the rent-charge left
by his good father, and (which is worse) was now at his return
indebted to several persons, whom he was not able to satisfy, but
by the king's payment of his arrears due for his foreign employ-
ments. He had brought into England many servants, of which
some were German and Italian artists. This was part of his
condition, who had many times hardly sufficient to supply the
occasions of the day ; (for it may by no means be said of his
providence, as himself said of sir Philip Sidney's wit, That it was
the very measure of congruity) he being always so careless of
money, as though our Saviour's words, Care not for to-morrow,
were to be literally understood.

But it pleased the God of providence, that in this juncture of
time, the provostship of his majesty's college of Eton became
void by the death of Mr. Thomas Murray 4, for which there were
(as the place deserved) many earnest and powerful suiters 5 to the
king. And sir Henry, who had for many years (like Sisyphus)
rolled the restless stone of a state employment, knowing experi-
mentally, that the great blessing of sweet content was not to be
found in multitudes of men or business ; and that a college was
the fittest place to nourish holy thoughts, and to afford rest both
to his body and mind, which his age (being now almost threescore
years) seemed to require, did therefore use his own, and the
interest of all his friends to procure that place. By which means,
and quitting the king of his promised reversionary offices, and by
a piece of honest policy (which I have not time to relate) he got
a grant of it 6 from his majesty.

And this was a fair satisfaction to his mind : but money was
wanting7 to furnish him with those necessaries which attend

4 Mr. Thomas Murray. ~\ Who had succeeded sir Henry Savile as provost.

5 Powerful suiters.~\ Two of these were lord Bacon and sir Wm. Becher.
See Bacon's Works, vol. vi. p. 345, 6. edit. 1803. Sir William Becher asserts,
in a letter to the duke of Buckingham, that he had from the king an express
promise of the place. Amongst the other candidates were sir Albertus
Morton, sir Dudley Carleton, and sir Robert Ayton.

0 A grant of it.'] He was instituted 26th July, 1624.

7 Money was wanting.'] " When he went to the election at Eton, soon after
his being made provost, he was so ill provided, that the fellows of the college
were obliged to furnish his bare walls, and whatever else was wanting." See
Birch's Letters of Lord Chancellor Bacon, p. 338, note.

96 SIR HENRY WOTTON.

removes, and a settlement in such a place ; and, to procure that,
he wrote to his old friend Mr. Nicholas Pey, for his assistance ;
of which Nicholas Pey, I shall here say a little, for the clearing
of some passages that I shall mention hereafter.

He was in his youth a clerk, or in some such way, a servant to
the lord Wotton, sir Henry^s brother ; and by him, when he was
comptroller of the king's houshold, was made a great officer in
his majesty's house. This, and other favours being conferred upon
Mr. Pey (in whom there was a radical honesty) were always
thankfully acknowledged by him, and his gratitude exprest by a
willing and unwearied serviceableness to that family even till his
death. To him sir Henry Wotton wrote, to use all his interest
at court, to procure five hundred pounds of his arrears, (for less
would not settle him in the college) and the want of such a sum
wrinkled Ms face with care (it was his own expression) ; and that
money being procured, he should the next day after find him in
his college, and Invidice remedium writ over his study-door.

This money, being part of his arrears, was by his own, and the
help of honest Nicholas Pey's interest in court, quickly procured
him ; and he as quickly in the college ; the place where indeed
his happiness then seemed to have its beginning : the college
being to his mind as a quiet harbour to a sea-faring man after a
tempestuous voyage ; where, by the bounty of the pious founder *,
his very food and raiment were plentifully provided for him in
kind, and more money than enough ; where he was freed from all
corroding cares, and seated on such a rock, as the waves of
want could not probably shake; where he might sit in a calm9,
and looking down, behold the busy multitude turmoilod and
tossed in a tempestuous sea of trouble and dangers ! And (as
sir William Davenant has happily exprest the like of another
person)

" Laugh at the graver business of the state,
Which speaks men rather wise than fortunate."

Being thus settled according to the desires of his heart, his

8 Where, by the bounty of the pious founder."]

" Where grateful science still adores

Her Henry's holy shade." Gray.

9 In a calm.']

Suave, mari magno turbantibus aequora ventis,
E terra magnum alterius spec tare laborem.

Lucretius, ii. 1.

SIR HENRY WOTTON. 97

first study was the statutes of the college : by which he conceived
himself bound to enter into holy orders, which he did ; being
made deacon l with all convenient speed : shortly after which
time, as he came in his surplice from the church-service, an old
friend, a person of quality, met him so attired, and joyed him of
his new habit ; to whom sir Henry Wotton replied, " I thank
God and the king, by whose goodness I now am in this condi-
tion ; a condition, which that emperor Charles the fifth seemed
to approve : who, after so many remarkable victories, when his
glory was great in the eyes of all men, freely gave up his crown,
and the many cares that attended it, to Philip his son, making a
holy retreat to a cloisteral life, where he might by devout medita-
tions consult with God (which the rich or busy men seldom do)
and have leisure both to examine the errors of his life past, and
prepare for that great day, wherein all flesh must make an
account of their actions. And after a kind of tempestuous life, I
now have the like advantage from him, that makes the out-goings
of the morning to praise him ; even from my God, whom I daily
magnify for this particular mercy, of an exemption from business,
a quiet mind, and a liberal maintenance, even in this part of my
life, when my age and infirmities seem to sound me a retreat
from the pleasures of this world, and invite me to contemplation,
in which I have ever taken the greatest felicity.""

And now to speak a little of the employment of his time in the
college. After his customary public devotions, his use was to
retire into his study, and there to spend some hours in reading
the Bible, and authors in divinity, closing up his meditations with
private prayer ; this was, for the most part, his employment
in the forenoon. But, when he was once sat to dinner, then
nothing but cheerful thoughts possessed his mind ; and those
still increased by constant company at his table, of such persons
as brought thither additions both of learning and pleasure ; but
some part of most days was usually spent in philosophical con-
clusions. Nor did he forget his innate pleasure of angling 2,

1 Made deacon."] A.D. 1627. Upon this occasion he wrote an interesting
letter to the king, which is preserved in his Remains, p. 327, edit. 1685. His
design was to have received orders at the hands of Williams, bishop of Lin-
coln, visitor of his college ; but in that he was disappointed, by a sudden
command from the king, that Williams should quit London. See Remains,
p. 326.

2 Innate pleasure of angling .] "My next and last example" (of the dear

VOL. IV. H

98 SIR HENRY WOTTON.

which he would usually call, his idle time, not idly spmt ;
saying often, he would rather live five May months, than forty
Decembers.

He was a great lover of his neighbours, and a bountiful
entertainer of them very often at his table, where his meat was
choice, and his discourse better.

He was a constant cherisher of all those youths in that school,
in whom he found either a constant diligence, or a genius that
prompted them to learning, for whose encouragement, he was
(beside many other things of necessity and beauty) at the charge
of setting up in it two rows of pillars, on which he caused to be
choicely drawn, the pictures of divers of the most famous Greek
and Latin historians, poets, and orators : persuading them not to
neglect rhetoric, because almighty God has left mankind affec-
tions to be wrought upon : and he would often say, That none
despised eloquence, but such dull souls as were not capable of it.
He would also often make choice of some observations out of
those historians and poets: and would never leave the school

lovers and great practisers of angling, being at the same time eminent for
learning) " shall be that undervaluer of money, the late provost of Eton
college, sir Henry Wotton, a man with whom I have often fished and con-
versed ; a man whose foreign employments in the service of this nation, and
whose experience, learning, wit, and cheerfulness, made his company to be
esteemed one of the delights of mankind. This man, whose very approba-
tion of angling were sufficient to convince any modest censurer of it, was
also a most dear lover, and a frequent practiser of my art : of which he would
say, ' 'Twas an employment for his idle time, which was then not idly spent :
for angling was, after tedious study, a rest to his mind, a cheerer of his spirits,
a diverter of sadness, a calmer of unquiet thoughts, a moderator of passions,
a procurer of contentedness ; and that it begat habits of peace and patience
in those that professed and practised it. Indeed, my friend, you will find
angling to be like the virtue of humility, which has a calmness of spirit, and
a world of other blessings attending it.'

" Sir, this was the saying of that learned man. And I do easily believe
that peace and patience, and a calm content, did cohabit in the chearful heart
of sir Henry Wotton, because I know that when he was beyond seventy
years of age, he made this description of a part of the present pleasure that
possessed him, as he sat quietly in a summer's evening on a bank a fishing.
It is a description of the spring; which, because it glided as soft and swet-tly
from his pen, as that river does at this time by which it was then made, I
shall repeat it to you.

" This day dame Nature seemed in love, Sec. &c.

" These were the thoughts that then possessed the undisturbed mind of sir
Henry Wotton."— Walton's Compleat Angler, p. 32, edit. 1772.

SIR HENRY WOTTON. 99

without dropping some choice Greek or Latin apophthegm or
sentence, that might be worthy of a room in the memory of a
growing scholar.

He was pleased constantly to breed up one or more hopeful
youths, which he picked out of the school, and took into his own
domestic care, and to attend him at his meals ; out of whose
discourse and behaviour, he gathered observations for the better
completing of his intended work of education : of which, by his
still striving to make the whole better, he lived to leave but part
to posterity.

He was a great enemy to wrangling disputes of religion, con-
cerning which I shall say a little, both to testify that, and to shew
the readiness of his wit.

Having at his being in Eome made acquaintance with a plea-
sant priest, who invited him one evening to hear their vesper
music at church, the priest seeing sir Henry stand obscurely in a
corner, sends to him by a boy of the quire this question, writ in a
small piece of paper, " Where was your religion to be found
before Luther V To which question sir Henry presently under-
writ, " My religion was to be found then, where your's is not to
be found now, in the written word of God."

The next vesper, sir Henry went purposely to the same church,
and sent one of the quire boys with this question to his honest
pleasant friend, the priest ; " Do you believe all those many thou-
sands of poor Christians were damned that were excommunicated,
because the pope, and the duke of Venice, could not agree about
their temporal power, even those poor Christians that knew not
why they quarrelled? Speak your conscience." To which he
under- writ in French, " Monsieur, excusez moi."

To one that asked him, " Whether a papist may be saved?"
he replied, " You may be saved without knowing that. Look to
yourself."

To another, whose earnestness exceeded his knowledge, and
was still railing against the Papists, he gave this advice, " Pray
sir, forbear till you have studied the points better ; for the wise
Italians have this proverb 3 ; He that understands amiss, concludes
worse : and take heed of thinking, The farther you go from the
church of Rome, the nearer you are to God 4."

3 This proverb .] "Chi mal intende peggio decide."

4 The nearer you are to God.~\ So Bishop Horsley. " Take especial care,
before you aim your shafts at Calvinism, that you know what is Calvinism

H 2

100 SIR HENRY WOTTON.

And to another that spake indiscreet and bitter words against
Arminius, I heard him reply to this purpose :

" In my travel towards Venice, as I past through Germany, I
rested almost a year at Leyden, where I entered into an acquaint-
ance with Arminius (then the professor of divinity in that univer-
sity) a man much talked of in this age, which is made up of
opposition and controversy : and indeed, if I mistake not Armi-
nius in his expressions (as so weak a brain as mine is may easily
do) then I know I differ from him in some points ; yet I profess
my judgment of him to be, that he was a man of most rare learn-
ing, and I knew him to be of a most strict life, and of a most
meek spirit. And that he was so mild, appears by his proposals
to our master Perkins 5 of Cambridge, from whose book, of the
Order and Causes of Salvation (which was first writ in Latin)
Arminius took the occasion of writing some queries to him con-
cerning the consequents of his doctrine ; intending them (it is
said) to come privately to Mr. Perkins"* own hands, and to receive
from him a like private and a like loving answer : but Mr. Per-
kins died before those queries came to him ; and it is thought
Arminius meant them to die with him ; for though he lived long
after, I have heard he forbore to publish them (but since his
death, his sons did not). And it is pity, if God had been so
pleased, that Mr. Perkins did not live to see, consider, and answer
those proposals himself ; for he was also of a most meek spirit,
and of great and sanctified learning. And though since their
deaths, many of high parts and piety have undertaken to clear
the controversy, yet, for the most part, they have rather satisfied
themselves, than convinced the dissenting party. And doubtless,
many middle- witted men, (which yet may mean well) many scholars
that are not in the highest form for learning, (which yet may
preach well) men that are but preachers, and shall never know,
till they come to heaven, where the questions stick betwixt Ar-
minius and the church of England, (if there be any) will yet in

and what is not : that in that mass of doctrine, which it is of late become the
fashion to abuse under the name of Calvinism, you can distinguish with cer-
tainty between that part of it which is nothing better than Calvinism, and
that which belongs to our common Christianity and the general faith of the
reformed churches, lest when you mean only to fall foul of Calvinism, you
should unwarily attack something more sacred and of higher origin." — Charge
at St. Asaph, 1806, p. 26.

5 Master Perkins.] William Perkins.

SIR HENRY WOTTON. 101

this world be tampering with, and thereby perplexing the con-
troversy, and do therefore justly fall under the reproof6 of St.
Jude, for being busy-bodies, and for meddling with things they

And here it offers itself (I think not unfitly) to tell the reader,
that a friend of sir Henry Wotton's, being designed for the em-
ployment of an ambassador, came to Eton, and requested from
him some experimental rules for his prudent and safe carriage in
his negociations ; to whom he smilingly gave this for an infallible
aphorism ; " That, to be in safety himself, and serviceable to his
country, he should always, and upon all occasions speak the
truth (it seems a state-paradox) for, says sir Henry Wotton,
you shall never be believed ; and by this means, your truth will
secure yourself, if you shall ever be called to any account ; and it
will also put your adversaries (who will still hunt counter) to a
loss in all their disquisitions and undertakings."

Many more of this nature might be observed, but they must
be laid aside ; for I shall here make a little stop, and invite the

6 Fall under the reproof.'] There were not wanting occasionally a few other
learned men, who, in these turbulent times, had wisdom enough to discourage
the promiscuous agitation of these thorny and perplexed controversies.
Among others who might be cited, we shall be contented to refer to the
example of Dr. Richard Field, author of the Five Books of the Church, who is
said to have been the intimate friend of Richard Hooker ; and whose writings
display no small portion of the meekness of spirit, the depth of thought, and
the learning of that admirable man.

"He did not like" (as his son informs us) "so much disputing about
those high points of predestination and reprobation, which have so much
troubled the church of late years, and in ancient times ; about which the
Dominicans and the Jesuites, the Lutherans and the Calvinists, are so much
divided. He did not like that men should be so busy in determining what
God decrees in heaven, whose counsels are unsearchable, and whose ways are
past finding out.

" Being at Oxford at the act, when doctor Abbot, who was then regius
professor, and doctor of the chair, first began to read upon those points which
are commonly called the Arminian points ; after he had heard him, being
returned unto his lodging, he was very much offended at it, and said unto
doctor Bostock, who was then present with him, You are a young man, and
may live to see great troubles in the church of England, occasioned by these dis-
putes. Oxford hath hitherto been free from these disputes, though Cambridge
hath been much disquieted with them. They are disputes which have troubled
the peace of the church above nine hundred years already, and will not now be
ended. In points of such extreme difficulty he did not think fit to be too
positive in defining any thing ; to turn matters of opinion into matters of
faith." Short Memorials concerning the Life of Doctor Richard Field, written
by his Son, p. 21. Compare Barwick's Life of Bishop Morton, p. 153.

102 SIR HENRY WOTTOX.

reader to look back with me, whilst, according to my promise, I
shall say a little of sir Albertus Morton, and Mr. William Bedel,
whom I formerly mentioned.

I have told you that are my reader, that at sir Henry Wotton's
first going ambassador into Italy, his cousin, sir Albert Morton,
went his secretary : and am next to tell you, that sir Albertus
died secretary of state to our late king ; but cannot, am not able
to express the sorrow that possest sir Henry Wotton at his first
hearing the news that sir Albertus was by death lost to him and
this world ; and yet, the reader may partly guess by these follow-
ing expressions ; the first in a letter to his Nicholas Pey, of which
this that folio weth is a part.

" And my dear Nick, when I had been here almost a fort-
night, in the midst of my great contentment, I received notice of
sir Albertus Morton's departure out of this world, who was
dearer to me, than mine own being in it. What a wound it is
to my heart, you that knew him, and know me, will easily believe :
but, our Creator's will must be done, and unrepiningly received
by his own creatures, who is the Lord of all nature, and of all
fortune, when he taketh to himself now one, and then another,
till that expected day, wherein it shah1 please him to dissolve the
whole, and wrap up even the heaven itself as a scroll of parch-
ment. This is the last philosophy that we must study upon
earth ; let us therefore that yet remain here, as our days and
friends waste, reinforce our love to each other ; which of all vir-
tues, both spiritual and moral, hath the highest privilege, because
death itself cannot end it. And my good Nick," &c.

This is a part of his sorrow thus exprest to his Nick Pey ; the
other part is in this following elegy, of which the reader may
safely conclude, it was too hearty to be dissembled.

TEARS WEPT AT THE GRAVE OF SIR ALBERTl'S MORTON,
BY HENRY WOTTON.

Silence in truth would speak my sorrow best,

For deepest wounds can least their feeling tell ;
Yet let me borrow from mine own unrest,

A time to bid him whom I lov'd farewell.

Oh, my unhappy lines ! you that before

Have serv'd my youth to vent some wanton cries,

And now congeal'd with grief, can scarce implore
Strength to accent, HERE MY ALBERTUS LIES.

SIR HENRY WOTTON. 103

This is that sable stone, this is the cave

And womb of earth, that doth his corpse embrace ;

While others sing his praise, let me engrave
These bleeding numbers to adorn the place.

Here will I paint the characters of woe ;

Here will I pay my tribute to the dead ;
And here my faithful tears in showers shall flow

To humanize the flints on which I tread.

Where though I mourn my matchless loss alone,
And none between my weakness judge and me ;

Yet even these pensive walls allow my moan,
Whose doleful echoes to my plaints agree.

But is he gone ! and live I rhyming here,

As if some muse would listen to my lay ?
When all distun'd sit waiting for their dear,

And bathe the banks where he was wont to play.

Dwell then in endless bliss with happy souls,
Discharged from nature's and from fortune's trust,

Whilst on this fluid globe my hour-glass rolls,
And runs the rest of my remaining dust.

H. W.

This concerning his sir Albertus Morton.

And for what I shall say concerning Mr. William Bedel I must
prepare the reader by telling him, that when king James sent sir
Henry Wotton ambassador to the state of Venice, he sent also
an ambassador to the king of France 7, and another to the king of
Spain 8 ; with the ambassador of France went Joseph Hall (late
bishop of Norwich) whose many and useful works speak his great
merit : with the ambassador of Spain went James Wadsworth ;
and with sir Henry Wotton went William Bedel.

These three chaplains to these three ambassadors, were all bred
in one university, all of one f college, all beneficed in one diocese,
and all most dear and entire friends : but in Spain Mr. Wads-
worth met with temptations9, or reasons, such as were so power -

7 To the king of France.] Sir Thomas Parry.

8 To the king of Spain.] Sir Charles Cornwallis.
1 Emmanuel College, in Cambridge.

9 Met with temptations.] We have the following account written by his son.
" At his first arrival " (in Spain) " the Jesuits held with him a subtle dispute
about the antiquity and the universality of the Church of Rome, which they
make their preface to all seducements; his grand opposers being Joseph

104 SIR HENRY WOTTON.

ful, as to persuade him (who of the three, was formerly observed
to be the most averse to that religion that calls itself Catholic)
to disclaim himself a member of the church of England, and de-
clare himself for the church of Rome ; discharging himself of his
attendance on the ambassador, and betaking himself to a monas-
terial life ; in which he lived very regularly, and so died.

When Dr. Hall (the late bishop of Norwich) came into Eng-
land, he wrote to Mr. Wadsworth (it is the first epistle in his
printed decads) to persuade his return, or to shew the reason of
his apostacy. The letter seemed to have in it many sweet ex-
pressions of love ; and yet there was in it some expression that
was so unpleasant to Mr. Wadsworth, that he chose rather to
acquaint his old friend Mr. Bedel with his motives ; by which
means there past betwixt Mr. Bedel and Mr. Wadsworth divers
letters, which be extant in print *, and did well deserve it ; for in
them there seems to be a controversy, not of religion only, but
who should answer each other with most love and meekness:
which I mention the rather, because it too seldom falls out to be
so in a book-war.

Cresswell and Henry Walpole, two the most expert politicians of our nation,
that then maintained the state of the triple crown; whose understanding
nevertheless would not prove captive either to the subtilest arguments, or
most alluring promises. The embassador seeing how wisely he quitted him-
self, sent letters to his majesty informing him how learnedly he was accom-
panied,— Meanwhile the Jesuits perceiving how little they prevailed, used
other illusions stronger than their arguments, even strange apparitions of
miracles : amongst others, the miracle which they pretend to be true to have
happened to the eldest son of the lord Wotton at his death, in the city Valla-
dolid, where a crucifix framed him this articulate sound, Now forsake your
heresy, or else you are damned; whereupon the young lord and my father
became proselytes to their juggling religion, the report whereof not long after
became a load-stone also to the old lord Wotton his father, with many others,
to draw them to popish idolatry. And so my father, leaving the embassador's
house privately, and discarding his wife and children, and fortunes in Eng-
land, was conducted forthwith by the means of father Cresswell to the
university of Salamanca, whereat the next day after his arrival, he was car-
ried to the bishop's, then inquisitor's, house, where he was admitted with no
little joy to their church ; where he prostrating himself on the ground, and
the inquisitor putting, as their custom is, his right foot on his head, said
with a loud voice, Here I crush the head of heresy ; the which ceremony and
others ended, after a month's abode in the said university, he passed with
Cresswell to the court of Madrid." English Spanish Pilgrim, p. 2, 3.

1 Extant in print.] They were printed by (bishop) Burnet, at the close of
his Life of Bishop Bedel, in the year 1685.

SIR HENRY WOTTON. 105

There is yet a little more to be said of Mr. Bedel, for the
greatest part of which the reader is referred to this following
letter of sir Henry Wotton's, writ to our late king Charles the
first.

" May it please your most gracious majesty,

" Having been informed that persons have, by the good wishes
of the archbishop of Armagh, been directed hither, with a most
humble petition unto your majesty, that you will be pleased to
make Mr. William Bedel (now resident upon a small benefice in
Suffolk) governor of your college at Dublin, for the good of that
society ; and myself being required to render unto your majesty
some testimony of the said William Bedel, who was long my
chaplain at Venice, in the time of my first employment there ; I
am bound in all conscience and truth (so far as your majesty will
vouchsafe to accept my poor judgment) to affirm of him, that I
think hardly a fitter man for that charge could have been pro-
pounded unto your majesty in your whole kingdom, for singular
erudition and piety, conformity to the rites of the church, and
zeal to advance the cause of God, wherein his travels abroad
were not obscure, in the time of the excommunication of the
Venetians.

For it may please your majesty to know, that this is the
man whom Padre Paulo took, I may say, into his very soul, with
whom he did communicate the inwardest thoughts of his heart,
from whom he professed to have received more knowledge in all
divinity, both scholastical and positive, than from any that he had
ever practised in his days ; of which all the passages were well
known to the king your father, of most blessed memory. And
so with your majesty's good favour, I will end this needless office :
for the general fame of his learning, his life, and Christian tem-
per, and those religious labours which himself hath dedicated to
your majesty, do better describe him than I am able.

" Your majesty's
" Most humble and faithful servant,

" H. WOTTON."

To this letter I shall add this ; that he was (to the great joy of
sir Henry Wotton) made governor of the said college ; and that
g after a fair discharge of his duty and trust there, he was thence

s August, 1627.

106 SIR HENRY WOTTON.

removed to be bishop of Kilmore h. In both which places his life
was so holy as seemed to equal the primitive Christians ; for as
they, so he kept all the ember-weeks, observed (beside his private
devotions) the canonical hours of prayer very strictly, and so he
did all the feasts and fast-days of his mother, the church of Eng-
land ; to which I may add, that his patience and charity were
both such as shewed his affections were set upon things that are
above ; for indeed his whole life brought forth the fruits of the
spirit, there being in him such a remarkable meekness, that as
St. Paul advised his Timothy in the election of a bishop (1 Tim.
iii. 7.) That he have a good report of those that be without ; so had
he ; for those that were without, even those that in point of reli-
gion were of the Romish persuasion, (of which there were very
many in his diocese) did yet (such is the power of visible piety)
ever look upon him with respect and reverence ; and testified it
by concealing and safe protecting him from death in the late hor-
rid rebellion in Ireland, when the fury of the wild Irish knew no
distinction of persons ; and yet there and then he was protected
and cherished by those of a contrary persuasion ; and there and
then he died, not by violence or misusage, but by grief, in a quiet
prison (1629). And with him was lost many of his learned wri-
tings, which were thought worthy of preservation ; and amongst
the rest was lost the Bible, which by many years labour, and con-
ference, and study, he had translated into the Irish tongue, with
an intent to have printed it for public use.

More might be said 2 of Mr. Bedel, who (I told the reader)
was sir Henry Wotton's first chaplain ; and much of his second
chaplain, Isaac Bargrave 3, doctor in divinity, and the late learned
and hospitable dean of Canterbury ; as also of the merit of many
others, that had the happiness to attend sir Henry in his foreign
employments : but the reader may think that in this digression I
have already carried him too far from Eton college, and tln-iv-
fore I shall lead him back as gently and as orderly as I may to that
place, for a further conference concerning sir Henry Wotton.

Sir Henry Wotton had proposed to himself, before he entered
into his collegiate life, to write the Life of Martin Luther; and

* Sept. 3, 1629.

2 More might be said.'] See Life of William Bedel, D.D. bishop of Kilmore,
in Ireland, AD. 1685, written by bishop Burnet.

» Isaac BargraveJ] Of whom there is a life in Todd's Account of the Deans
of Canterbury.

SIR HENRY WOTTON. 107

in it, the History of the Reformation, as it was carried on in
Germany : for the doing of which he had many advantages by
his several embassies into those parts, and his interest in the
several princes of the empire, by whose means he had access to
the records of all the Hans Towns, and the knowledge of many
secret passages that fell not under common view ; and in these
he had made a happy progress, as was well known to his worthy
friend doctor Duppa, the late reverend bishop of Salisbury ; but
in the midst of this design, his late majesty king Charles the first,
that knew the value of sir Henry Wotton's pen, did by a persua-
sive loving violence (to which may be added a promise of 5001. a
year) force him to lay Luther aside, and betake himself to write
the History of England, in which he proceeded to write some
short characters of a few kings, as a foundation upon which he
meant to build ; but, for the present, meant to be more large in
the story of Henry the sixth, the founder of that college in which
he then enjoyed all the worldly happiness of his present being ;
but sir Henry died in the midst of this undertaking, and the
footsteps of his labours are not recoverable by a more than com-
mon diligence.

This is some account both of his inclination, and the employ-
ment of his time in the college, where he seemed to have his
youth renewed by a continual conversation with that learned
society, and a daily recourse of other friends of choicest breeding
and parts ; by which that great blessing of a cheerful heart was
still maintained, he being always free, even to the last of his days,
from that peevishness which usually attends age.

And yet his mirth was sometimes damped by the remembrance
of divers old debts, partly contracted in his foreign employments,
for which his just arrears due from the king would have made
satisfaction; but being still delayed with court promises, and
finding some decays of health, he did about two years before his
death, out of a Christian desire that none should be a loser by
him, make his last will ; concerning which a doubt still remains,
namely, whether it discovered more holy wit or conscionable
policy ? But there is no doubt but that his chief design was a
Christian endeavour that his debts might be satisfied.

And that it may remain as such a testimony and a legacy to
those that loved him, I shall here impart it to the reader, as it
was found writ with his own hand.

" In the name of God almighty and all-merciful, I Henry

108 SIR HENRY WOTTON.

Wotton, provost of his majesty's college by Eton, being mindful
of mine own mortality, which the sin of our first parents did
bring upon all flesh, do, by this last will and testament thus dis-
pose of myself and the poor things I shall leave in this world.
My soul I bequeath to the immortal God my maker, father of our
Lord Jesus Christ, my blessed redeemer and mediator, through
his all-sole sufficient satisfaction for the sins of the whole world,
and efficient for his elect, in the number of whom I am one by
his mere grace, and thereof most unremoveably assured by his
holy Spirit, the true eternal comforter. My body I bequeath to
the earth, if I shall end my transitory days at or near Eton, to
be buried in the chapel of the said college, as the fellows shall
dispose thereof, with whom I have lived (my God knows) in all
loving affection ; or if I shall die near Bocton Malherb, in the
county of Kent, then I wish to be laid in that parish church, as
near as may be to the sepulchre of my good father, expecting a
joyful resurrection with him in the day of Christ.""

After this account of his faith, and this surrender of his soul
to that God that inspired it, and this direction for the disposal of
his body, he proceeded to appoint that his executors should lay
over his grave a marble stone, plain, and not costly : and consi-
dering that time moulders even marble to dust, (for monuments i
themselves must die) therefore did he (waving the common way)
think fit rather to preserve his name (to which the son of Sirac
adviseth all men) by a useful apophthegm, than by a large enume-
ration of his descent or merits (of both which he might justly
have boasted) but he was content to forget them, and did choose
only this prudent, pious sentence, to discover his disposition and
preserve his memory.

It was directed by him to be thus inscribed :

Hie jacet hujus sententiae primus author,

D1SPUTANDI PRURITUS4, ECCLE8IARUM SCABIES.

Nomen alias quaere.
Which may be Englished thus :

Here lies the first author of this sentence,

THE ITCH OF DISPUTATION WILL PROVE THE SCAB OF THB CHLRCH.

Inquire his name elsewhere.

1 " Quandoquidem data sunt ipsis quoque fata sepulchris." — Juv. x. 145.
4 Disputandi pruritus.] In a Panegyric addressed to king Charles I. on his

SIR HENRY WOTTON. 109

And if any shall object, as I think some have, that sir
Henry Wotton was not the first author of this sentence ; but
that this, or a sentence like it, was long before his time ; to him
I answer, that Solomon says, Nothing can be spoken, that hath not
been spofcen ; for there is no new thing under the sun. But grant,
that in his various reading, he had met with this, or a like sen-
tence ; yet reason mixt with charity should persuade all readers
to believe, that sir Henry Wotton's mind was then so fixed on
that part of the communion of saints which is above, that an holy
lethargy did surprise his memory. For doubtless, if he had not
believed himself to be the first author of what he said, he was too
prudent first to own, and then expose it to the public view, and
censure of every critic. And questionless, it will be charity in all
readers, to think his mind was then so fixed on heaven, that a
holy zeal did transport him : and that in this sacred ecstasy, his
thoughts were then only of the church triumphant (into which he
daily expected his admission). And that almighty God was then
pleased to make him a prophet, to tell the church militant, and
particularly that part of it in this nation, where the weeds of con-
troversy grow to be daily both more numerous, and more de-
structive to humble piety : and where men have consciences that
boggle at ceremonies, and yet scruple not to speak and act such
sins as the ancient humble Christians believed to be a sin to think :
and where, as our reverend Hooker says, " Former simplicity, and
softness of spirit, is not now to be found, because, zeal hath
drowned charity, and skill meekness :" it will be good to think
that these sad changes have proved this epitaph to be a useful
caution unto us of this nation ; and the sad effects thereof in
Germany have proved it to be a mournful truth.

return from Scotland, A.D. 1633, written in Latin, and translated by a friend,
sir Henry thus expresses himself:

" There were hatched abroad some years ago, or perhaps raked up out of
antiquity, certain controversies about high points of the Creed, which having
likewise flown over to us, (as flames of wit are easily diffused) least hereabout
also both pulpits and pews might run to heat and public disturbance, your
majesty, with most laudable temper, by proclamation suppressed on both
sides all manner of debates. Others may think what pleaseth them ; in my
opinion (if I may have pardon for the phrase) The itch of disputing will prove
the scab of churches. I shall relate what I have chanced more than once to
observe : two, namely, arguing about some subject so eagerly till either of
them, transported by heat of contention, from one thing to another, they both
at length had lost first their charity, and then also the truth." Remains,
p. H7.

110 SIR HENRY WOTTON.

This by way of observation concerning his epitaph : the rest of
his will follows in his own words.

" Further, I the said Henry Wotton, do constitute and ordain
to be joint executors of this my last will and testament, my two
grand-nephews, Albert Morton second son to sir Robert Morton
knight, late deceased, and Thomas Bargrave, eldest son to Dr.
Bargrave, dean of Canterbury, husband to my right virtuous and
only niece '. And I do pray the aforesaid Dr. Bargrave, and Mr.
Nicholas Pey, my most faithful and chosen friends, together witli
Mr. John Harrison one of the fellows of Eton college, best
acquainted with my books and pictures, and other utensils, to be
supervisors of this my last will and testament. And I do pray
the foresaid Dr. Bargrave and Mr. Nicholas Pey, to be solicitors
for such arrearages as shall appear due unto me from his majesty's
exchequer at the time of my death ; and to assist my fore-named
executors in some reasonable snd conscientious satisfaction of my
creditors, and discharge of my legacies now specified ; or, that
shall be hereafter added unto this my testament, by any codicil
or schedule, or left in the hands, or in any memorial with the
aforesaid Mr. John Harrison. — And first, to my most dear sove-
reign and master of incomparable goodness (in whose gracious
opinion I have ever had some portion, as far as the interest of a
plain and honest man) I leave four pictures at large of those dukes
of Venice *, in whose time I was there employed, with their names
on the back-side, which hang in my great ordinary dining-room,
done after the life by Edoardo Fialetto. Likewise a table 7 of the
Venetian college, where ambassadors had their audience, hanuin^
over the mantle of the chimney in the said room, done by the
same hand, which containeth a draught in little, well resembling
the famous duke Leonardo Donato, in a time which needed a
wise and constant man. Item, the picture of a duke of Venice 8
hanging over against the door, done either by Titiano, or some
principal hand long before my time. Most humbly beseeching

5 Niece.'] Elizabeth Dering, daughter of John Dering of Surrenden, hy
Elizabeth Wotton, sir Henry's only sister.

r> Dukes of Venice.'] The four doges of whom Wotton speaks were Marino
(irimani, 1595-1605; Lionardo Donato, 1605-1612; Antonio Memmo, 1612-
1615; Giovanni Bembo, 1615-1618. The portraits are now in the king's
dressing-room at Hampton Court palace.

7 A table.'] This picture, on panel, is now in the second presence chamber
at Hampton Court palace.

8 Duke of Venire.] The fate of this picture is uncertain.

SIR HENRY WOTTON. Ill

his majesty that the said pieces may remain in some corner of
any of his houses, for a poor memorial of his most humble
vassal.

" Item, I leave his said majesty all the papers and negociations
of sir Nicholas Throgmorton knight, during his famous employ-
ment under queen Elizabeth, in Scotland and in France, which
contain divers secrets of state, that perchance his majesty will
think fit to be preserved in his paper-office, after they have been
perused and sorted by Mr. Secretary Windebanck, with whom I
have heretofore, as I remember, conferred about them. They
were committed to my disposal by sir Arthur Throgmorton 9 his
son, to whose worthy memory I cannot better discharge my faith,
than by assigning them to the highest place of trust. Item, I
leave to our most gracious and virtuous queen Mary *, Dioscorides,
with the plants naturally coloured, and the text translated by
Matthiolo 2, in the best language of Tuscany, whence her majesty
is lineally descended 3, for a poor token of my thankful devotion,
for the honour she was once pleased to do my private study with
her presence. I leave to the most hopeful prince, the picture of
the elected and crowned queen of Bohemia, his aunt, of clear and
resplendent virtues through the clouds of her fortune. To my
lord's grace of Canterbury 4 now being, I leave my picture of Divine
Love, rarely copied from one in the king^s galleries, of my pre-
sentation to his majesty ; beseeching him to receive it as a pledge
of my humble reverence to his great wisdom. And to the most
worthy lord bishop of London 5, lord high treasurer of England,
in true admiration of his Christian simplicity, and contempt of
earthly pomp, I leave a picture of Heraclitus bewailing, and De-
mocritus laughing at the world : most humbly beseeching the said
lord archbishop his grace, and the lord bishop of London, of both

9 Sir Arthur Throgmorton.'] Whose eldest daughter and coheir, Mary, was
married to sir Henry Wotton's nephew, Thomas, second and last lord Wotton.

1 Queen Mary.'] Henrietta Maria.

2 Matthiolo.'] Pietro Matthiolo of Sienna, physician to the emperor and to
the archduke Ferdinand, who wrote Discorsi nelli sei libri di Pedacio Dios-
coride Anarzarbeo delta Materia Medicinale. Editions with very beautiful
wood engravings were printed at Venice in folio, in 1568, 1585, 1604. It was
no doubt a copy of one of these that Wotton bequeathed, but it is not in
the Royal library in the British Museum.

3 Descended^] She being daughter of Marie de' Medici.

4 My lord's grace of Canterbury .] William Laud.

5 Bishop of London.] William Juxon, afterwards archbishop of Canterbury.

112 SIR HENRY WOTTON.

whose favours I have tasted in my lifetime, to intercede with our
most gracious sovereign after my death, in the bowels of Jesus
Christ, that out of compassionate memory of my long services
(wherein I more studied the public honour than mine own utility)
some order may be taken out of my arrears due in the exchequer,
for such satisfaction of my creditors, as those whom I have
ordained supervisors of this my last will and testament shall pre-
sent unto their lordships, without their farther trouble : hoping
likewise in his majesty's most indubitable goodness, that he will
keep me from all prejudice, which I may otherwise suffer by any

defect of formality in the demand of my said arrears. To

for a poor addition to his cabinet, I leave as emblems of his
attractive virtues, and nobleness, my great loadstone ; and a
piece of amber of both kinds naturally united, and only differing
in degree of concoction, which is thought somewhat rare. Item,
a piece of christal sexangular (as they grow all) grasping divers
several things within it, which I bought among the Rhsetian
Alps, in the very place where it grew: recommending most
humbly unto his lordship, the reputation of my poor name in
the point of my debts, as I have done to the forenamed spiritual
lords ; and am heartily sorry, that I have no better token of my
humble thankfulness to his honoured person. Item, I leave to
sir Francis Windebanck, one of his majesties principal secretaries
of state (whom I found my great friend in point of necessity) the
Four Seasons of old Bassano, to hang near the eye in his parlour
(being in little form) which I bought at Venice, where I first
entered into his most worthy acquaintance.

" To the above-named Dr. Bargrave e dean of Canterbury. I
leave all my Italian books not disposed in this will. I leave to
him likewise my viol de gamba, which hath been twice with me in
Italy, in which country I first contracted with him an unremove-
able affection. To my other supervisor, Mr. Nicholas Pey, I
leave my chest, or cabinet of instruments and engines of all kinds
of uses : ink the lower box whereof are some fit to be bequeathed
to none but so entire an honest man as he is. I leave him likc-

' Dr. BargraveJ] A picture of sir Henry Wotton, and some other por-
traits, believed to have been in his collection, are now in the possession of
Thomas Bridger, Esq., of Eastry Court, whose lady is a lineal descendant of
Dr. Bargrave.

k In it were Italian locks, picklocks, screws to force open doors, and many
things of worth and rarity that he had gathered in his foreign travel.

SIR HENRY WOTTON. 113

wise forty pound for his pains in the solicitation of my arrears,
and am sorry that my ragged estate can reach no further to one
that hath taken such care for me in the same kind, during all
my foreign employments. To the library at Eton college I leave
all my manuscripts not before disposed ; and to each of the fellows
a plain ring of gold, enamelled black, all save the verge, with this
motto within, Amor unit omnia.

" This is my last will and testament, save what shall be added
by a schedule thereunto annexed. Written on the first of
October, in the present year of our redemption 1637. And sub-
scribed by myself, with the testimony of these witnesses.

" HENRY WOTTON."
" Nich. Oudert.
Geo. Lash."

And now, because the mind of man is best satisfied by the
knowledge of events, I think fit to declare, that every one that
was named in his will, did gladly receive their legacies ; by which,
and his most just and passionate desires for the payment of his
debts, they joined in assisting the overseers of his will ; and by
their joint endeavours to the king (than whom none was more
willing) conscionable satisfaction was given for his just debts.

The next thing wherewith I shall acquaint the reader is, that
he went usually once a year, if not oftener, to the beloved Bocton-
hall, where he would say, he found a cure for all cares, by the
chearful company, which he called the living furniture of that
place : and, a restoration of his strength, by the connaturalness
of that which he called his genial air.

He yearly went also to Oxford. But the summer before his
death he changed that for a journey to Winchester-college ; to
which school he was first removed from Bocton. And as he
returned from Winchester, towards Eton-college, he said to a
friend, his companion in that journey; " How useful was that
advice of a holy monk, who persuaded his friend to perform his
customary devotions in a constant place 7} because in that place,
we usually meet with those very thoughts which possessed us at
our last being there ; and I find it thus far experimentally true ;
that my now being in that school, and seeing that very place

7 A constant place. ,] See South's Sermons, vol. i. "God's peculiar regard
for places set apart for Divine worship ;" or Christian Institutes, vol. iii. p. 432.
Also Law's Serious Call, &c. chap. 14.

VOL. IV. I

114 SIR HENRY WOTTON.

where I sate when I was a boy, occasioned me to remember
those very thoughts of my youth which then possessed me;
sweet thoughts indeed, that promised my growing years numerous
pleasures, without mixtures of cares ; and those to be enjoyed,
when time (which I therefore thought slow paced) had changed
my youth into manhood : but age and experience have taught
me, that those were but empty hopes : for I have always found
it true, as my Saviour did foretell, sufficient for the day is the evil
thereof. Nevertheless, I saw there a succession of boys using the
same recreations, and questionless possessed with the same
thoughts that then possessed me. Thus one generation succeeds
another, both in their lives, recreations, hopes, fears, and death."
After his return from Winchester to Eton (which was about
five months before his death) he became much more retired, and
contemplative ; in which time he was often visited by Mr. John
Hales, (learned Mr. John Hales) then a fellow of that college ;

to whom upon an occasion he spake to this purpose " I have

in my passage to my grave met with most of those joys of which a
discursive soul is capable ; and been entertained with more inferior
pleasures than the sons of men are usually made partakers of:
nevertheless, in this voyage I have not always floated on the calm
sea of content ; but, have oft met with cross winds and storms,
and with many troubles of mind and temptations to evil. And,
yet though I have been and am a man compassed about with hu-
man frailties, almighty God hath by his grace prevented me from
making shipwreck of faith and a good conscience ; the thought of
which is now the joy of my heart, and I most humbly praise him
for it : and I humbly acknowledge that it was not myself but he
that hath kept me to this great age ; and let him take the glory
of his great mercy. — And my dear friend, I now see that I draw
near my harbour of death : that harbour, that will secure me
from all the future storms and waves of this world ; and I praise
God I am willing to leave it, and expect a better ; that world,

wherein dwelleth righteousness, and I long for it." These and

the like expressions were then uttered by him at the beginning of
a feverish distemper, at which time he was also troubled with an
asthma, or short spitting ; but after less than twenty fits, by the
help of familiar physic and a spare diet, this fever abated ; yet so
as to leave him much weaker than it found him : and his asthma
seemed also to be overcome in a good degree by his forbearing
tobacco, which as many thoughtful men do. In- had also taken

SIR HENRY WOTTON. 115

somewhat immoderately. — This was his then present condition,
and thus he continued till about the end of October 1639, which
was about a month before his death, at which time he again
fell into a fever, which though he seemed to recover, yet these
still left him so weak, that they and those other common infirmi-
ties that accompany age, and were wont to visit him like civil
friends, and after some short time to leave him, came now, both
oftener and with more violence, and at last took up their constant
habitation with him, still weakening his body and abating his
chearfulness : of both which he grew more sensible, and did the
oftener retire into his study, and there made many papers that
had passed his pen both in the days of his youth, and in the busy

part of his life, useless by a fire made there to that purpose. •

These and several unusual expressions to his servants and friends,
seemed to foretell that the day of his death drew near ; for which
he seemed to those many friends that observed him, to be well
prepared, and to be both patient, and free from all fear ; as seve-
ral of his letters writ on this his last sick-bed may testify : and
thus he continued till about the beginning of December following,
at which time he was seized more violently with a quotidian fever,
in the tenth fit of which fever, his better part, that part of sir
Henry Wotton which could not die, put off mortality, with as
much content and chearfulness as human frailty is capable of;
being then in great tranquillity of mind, and in perfect peace with
God and man.

And thus the circle of sir Henry Wotton's life (that circle
which began at Bocton, and in the circumference thereof, did first
touch at Winchester-school, then at Oxford, and after upon so
many remarkable parts and passages in Christendom,) that circle
of his life, was by death thus closed up and compleated, in the
seventy and second year of his age, at Eton college ; where ac-
cording to his will, he now lies buried, with his motto on a plain
grave-stone over him; dying worthy of his name and family,
worthy of the love and favour of so many princes, and persons of
eminent wisdom and learning, worthy of the trust committed unto
him, for the service of his prince and country.

All readers are requested to believe, that he was worthy of a
more worthy pen, to have preserved his memory, and com-
mended his merits to the imitation of posterity.

Iz. WA.
i 2

NICHOLAS FERRAR.

His state

Is kingly. Thousands at His bidding speed
And post o'er land and ocean without rest ; —
They also serve who only stand and wait.

MILTON.

ADVERTISEMENT

THE following Life is published, but not without some omissions,
from Memoirs of the Life of Mr. Nicholas Ferrar, by P. PecJcard,
D.D. Master of Magdalen College, Cambridge. Cambridge, printed
by J. Archdeacon, 1790. The present edition, it is presumed, is
greatly increased in value, by a large accession of very interesting
papers, transcribed from the Lambeth library, by permission of
his grace the archbishop of Canterbury. The notices which are
included in brackets are borrowed from Dr. Peckard.

PREFACE.

THE editor of the following Memoirs has been long and frequently
solicited to publish the life of Mr. Nicholas Ferrar, of which it
was known that he once had a manuscript account in his posses-
sion. It now seems necessary to give a short history of this MS.
and the reason why he has hitherto delayed his compliance with
the solicitations that have been made to him.

He married the eldest daughter of Mr. Edward Ferrar, late of
Huntingdon, who by his will left to him his books and papers.
Among the latter was a manuscript life of Nicholas Ferrar,
entitled, " The complete Church of England Man, &c." written
out fair and prepared for the press, from authentic memoirs in
the family, by the Rev. Mr. Francis Peck : a gentleman well
known to the literary world by his publications relative to various
articles of antiquity.

Soon after the death of Mr. Ed. Ferrar, which happened in
1769, the Rev. Mr. Jones, of Sheephall, in the county of Hert-
ford, then on a visit to the editor at Huntingdon, requested the
perusal of this manuscript, which was granted : and the editor
soon] after went for some time with his family to Bath. On his
return to Huntingdon, he was informed of the sudden death of
Mr. Jones, occasioned by a fall from his horse.

Having made all possible enquiry after this MS. in the neigh-
bourhood of Sheephall without effect, the editor called upon a
brother of Mr. Jones, who then lived near St. Clement's church
in the Strand, who undertook to recover and restore it. But he
also was prevented doing any thing by his sudden death, which
happened in a few days after this application.

Since that time the editor has made all the enquiry both public
and private that was in his power, but all to no purpose.

122

PREFACE.

Having now, after near twenty years' fruitless enquiry, given
up all hopes of recovering his property, the editor nevertheless
determines, as far as it is in his power, to gratify the solicitations
of his friends with respect to the life of Mr. Nich. Ferrar. And
having found the original1 MS. from which Mr. Peck composed
his work, entitled, " The complete Church of England Man exem-
plified in the holy life of Mr. N. Ferrar ;" as also some loose and
unconnected papers of Mr. Peck's rough draught, he here humbly
offers to the public the result of his investigation. And although
he has thought it necessary sometimes to change an obsolete
phrase for one more modern, or to leave out some passages that
might now appear of no weight, or to add now and then a few
sentences for the sake of connection, yet in every thing of moment
the present production is faithful to the original.

1 The original.'] This MS., as will be seen below, in the body of this life,
was compiled by Mr. John Ferrar, the elder brother of Nicholas, about the
year 1654.

NICHOLAS FERRAR.

MR. NICHOLAS FERRAR, though not of exalted rank himself,
was of a family highly respectable for that real merit which sur-
passes antiquity of descent or nobility of title, a family illustrious
for virtue.

Gualkeline, or Walkeline de Ferrariis, a Norman of distinction,
came into England with William the Conqueror. To Henry de
Ferrariis, the second of this family, William gave Tutbury and
other castles ; and more than a hundred and eighty lordships.
In process of time the family became very numerous ; founded
several religious houses ; had the honour of peerage ; and different
branches of it were settled in many different counties.

One line was long since established in Yorkshire, from which
was descended Nicholas, the father of that Nicholas to whose
memory these imperfect memoirs are dedicated. He was very
nearly related to that pious and resolute martyr Robert Ferrar,
bishop of St. David's, who sealed the truth of the Protestant
religion with his blood, and with these remarkable words after his
condemnation to the stake, " If you see me stir in the fire, believe
not the doctrine I have taught V

Nicholas Ferrar the father was brought up in the profession of
a merchant adventurer, and traded very extensively to the East
and West Indies, and to all the celebrated seats of commerce.
He lived in high repute in the city, where he joined in cominer-

1 / have taught.'] [Richard Jones, a knight's son, coming to bishop Ferrar
a little before his execution, lamented the painfulness of the death he had to
suffer. To whom the bishop answered, that if he saw him stir in the pains
of his burning, he should then give no credit to his doctrine. And as he
said so he right well performed the same. For so patiently he stood that he
never moved : but even as he stood holding up his stumps, so still he con-
tinued till one Richard Gravel with a staff dashed him upon the head, and so
stroke him down. March 30, 1555. Fox, Acts and Monuments.'}

124 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

cial matters with sir Thomas and sir Hugh Middleton, and Mr.
Bateman. He was a man of liberal hospitality, but governed his
house with great order. He kept a good table, at which he
frequently received persons of the greatest eminence, sir John
Hawkins, sir Francis Drake, sir Walter Raleigh, and others,
with whom he was an adventurer : and in all their expeditions he
was ever in the highest degree attentive to the planting the Chris-
tian religion in the new world. At home also he was a zealous
friend to the established church, and always ready to supply his
prince with what was required of him. He lent 300£. at once
upon a privy seal : a sum at that time not inconsiderable. He
had the honour of being written Esq. by Q. Elizabeth : and the
exemplification of his arms is still in the family.

He married Mary Wodenoth, daughter of Laurence Wode-
noth, esq. of the ancient family 8 of that name, .of Savington hall
in Cheshire, where her ancestors in lineal descent had enjoyed
that lordship near five hundred years, and were allied to the prin-
cipal families of that country.

Mary Wodenoth was surpassed by none in comeliness of body
or excellence of beauty. She was of modest and sober deport-
ment, and of great prudence. Of few words, yet when she spoke,
bishop Lindsel3 was used to say of her, he knew no woman
superior to her in eloquence, true judgment or wisdom, and that
few were equal to her in chanty towards man, or piety towards
God.

This worthy couple lived together many years in harmony and
happiness, perfecting their holiness in the fear of God, and in the
conscientious practice of every duty. They saw descended from
them a numerous, and a virtuous family 4, of whose education they

3 Ancient family.'] An account of the Wodenoths, with their arms and
pedigree, will be found in Ormerod's History of Cheshire, iii. 261, 262.

* Bishop Lindsel.'] Augustine Lindsell, dean of Lichfield, elected bishop of
Peterborough, 22nd December, 1632; translated to Hereford 7th March,
1634; died 6th November, 1634.

4 A virtuous family.'] Nicholas Ferrar, the father, died 1st April, 1620,
leaving issue, " John Farrar, eldest sonne, of the age of 30 yeares ; Nicholas,
second sonne, fellow of Clare Hall, in Cambridge, of the age of 27 yeares ;
Richard, third sonne, merchant of London, of the age of 24 yeares; Susan,
only daughter lyvyng, married to John Collett ', of Bourne, in the county of

1 This John Collett (alias Collet) had issue by the said Susan five sons
and seven daughters ; the eldest of which daughters (by name Mary) was
unmarried in 1684. The rest of them and the two eldest sons married.

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 125

took uncommon care. They did not spoil their children by abso-
lutely sparing the rod, but what occasional severity they judged
to be necessary was so softened by tenderness and affection, as
to produce not only the fear of doing amiss, but the love of doing
well.

The little instances of corrective discipline exercised by these
affectionate parents in the beginning of the seventeenth century,
would perhaps excite the derision of the fastidious reader at the
end of the eighteenth ; they are therefore omitted. Nevertheless
they were well calculated to impress the tender mind with a reve-
rential awe for the Supreme Being ; with obedience to parents,
and instructors ; with universal and disinterested benevolence ;
with modesty, with humility, and a proper sense of subordination ;
with an abhorrence of all vice, but particularly of every species of
falsehood.

The children born to these virtuous parents were all constantly
trained in virtue and religion. Their daily practice was to read,
and to speak by memory some portion of the Scriptures, and parts
of the Book of Martyrs : they were also made acquainted with
such passages of history as were suited to their tender years.
They were all instructed in music ; in performing on the organ,
viol, and lute, and in the theory and practice of singing ; in the
learned and modern languages ; in curious needle- works, and all
the accomplishments of that time. The young men, when arrived
at years of discretion, had permission each to choose his profes-
sion, and then no expense was spared to bring him to a distin-
guished excellence in it. For this was an invariable maxim with
the parents, that having laid a firm foundation in religion and
virtue, they would rather give them a good education without
wealth, than wealth without a good education.

The parish church and chancel of St. Bennett Sherehog in
London, Mr. Ferrar repaired and decently seated at his own
expence ; and as there was not any morning preacher there, he

Cambridge, gent. He had also issue by Mary, his said wife, Erasmus and
William, both barresters of the common law, that dyed both without issue.
John Farrar, eldest sonne of the said Mr. Nicholas Farrar, married two
wives : his first wife was Anne, daughter of William Shepard, of Great Rol-
wright, in the county of Oxon, Esq., by whom he had no issue. His second
wife was Bersabe, daughter of Israel Owen, of London, gent., by whom he
had issue Mary, who dyed yonge, and Nicholas of the age of two yeares." —
From the Funeral Certificate in Hearne's Caii Vindicia, ii. 683.

126 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

brought from the country Mr. Francis White, and made hii
their first lecturer. Mr. White was afterwards advanced to th<
see of Ely 5.

When a stranger preached, Mr. Ferrar always invited him
dinner, and if it was discovered that he was in any necessity, he
never departed without a handsome present. In truth they never
were without a clergyman as a companion in their house, or even
on their journeys, as they always accustomed themselves to
morning and evening prayer.

Nicholas Ferrar, the third son of this worthy couple, was born
the 22d and christened the 23d of Feb. 1592, in the parish of
St. Mary Stayning in Mark-lane, London. His godfathers do
not appear. His godmother was a Mrs. Riggs, wife to captain
Riggs, who recommended herself highly to the esteem of q. Eliza-
beth, by an heroic act which she performed upon the sea-shore at
Dover in 1 588, as her story relates at large.

He was a beautiful child of a fair complexion, and light- coloured
hair. At four years of age he was sent to school, being of a
tractable disposition and lively parts. At five he could read per-
fectly, or repeat with propriety and grace a chapter in the Bible,
which the parents made the daily exercise of their children. By
the brightness of his parts, and the uncommon strength of his
memory he attained with great ease and quickness whatsoever he
set himself to learn ; yet was he also remarkably studious ; being
a rare instance of the union of the brightest parts with the most
intense industry. From the early possession of his mind with
ideas of piety and virtue, and a love for historical information,
the Bible in his very early years became to him the book above
all others most dear and estimable ; and next to this in his esteem
was Fox's book of Martyrs, from which he could repeat perfectly
the history of his near kinsman bishop Ferrar. And when in his
riper years he undertook the instruction of the family, he con-
stantly exercised them also in the reading and in the study of
these two books. He was particularly fond of all historical rela-
tions, and when engaged in this sort of reading, the day did not
satisfy him, but he would borrow from the night; insomuch that
his mother would frequently seek him out, and force him to par-
take of some proper recreation. Hence, even in his childhood,

* See of Ely] Francis White, dean of Carlisle, was successively bishop of
Carlisle, in 1626; of Norwich, in 1629; of Ely. in 1631. He died in 1638.

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 127

his mind was so furnished with historical anecdotes, that he could
at any time draw off his schoolfellows from their play, who would
eagerly surround him, and with the utmost attention listen to his
little tales, always calculated to inspire them with a love of piety
and goodness, and excite in them a virtuous imitation.

When he was very young he was entered into Latin at London,
at the desire of his master, though others thought it too soon :
but he was so eager and diligent in his application that he soon
surpassed all his companions.

He was of a grave disposition, and very early shewed a great
dislike of every thing that savoured of worldly vanity. In his
apparel he wished to be neat, but refused all that was not simple
and plain. When bands were making for the children, he
earnestly entreated his mother that his might not have any lace
upon them, like those of his brothers, but be made little and
plain, like those of Mr. Wotton a, a for I wish to be a preacher as
he is." Mr. Wotton was a learned divine and reader of divinity
in Gresham college. He was frequently at Mr. Ferraris, and
always examined, and exercised young Nicholas, being wonder-
fully delighted with his ingenuity.

He was good natured and tender hearted to the highest degree ;
so fearful of offending any one, that upon the least apprehension
of having given displeasure, he would suddenly weep in the most
submissive manner, and appear extremely sorry. His temper was
lovely, his countenance pleasing : his constitution was not robust,
but he was active, lively, and chearful. Whatsoever he went
about he did it with great spirit, and with a diligence and discre-
tion above his years.

And now the parents were informed by their friends, and by
Mr. Francis his school-master, that it was time to send him to
some greater school, where he might have a better opportunity to
improve himself in the Latin tongue. It was thereupon resolved
to send him and his brother William to Euborn, near Newbury
in Berkshire, to the house of Mr. Brooks, an old friend, who had
many other pupils, who was a religious and good man, but a strict
disciplinarian.

While preparations were making for this journey, an event

6 Mr. Wotton J\ Anthony Wotton, chosen professor of divinity in Gresham
College, in March, 1596, at its foundation, and lecturer of Allhallows, Bark-
ing : he died in 1626. An account of him and of his works will be found in
Ward's Lives of the Gresham Professors.

128 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

took place which made the deepest and most lively impressi(
upon the mind of young Nicholas, and strongly marks his cha-
racter, and the bent of his disposition. He was but six years
age, and being one night unable to sleep, a fit of scepticism
seized his mind, and gave him the greatest perplexity and un<
siness. He doubted u Whether there was a God f and if there
was, " What was the most acceptable mode of serving him f1
In extreme grief he rose at midnight, cold, and frosty, and wenl
down to a grass plat in the garden, where he stood long time sad
and pensive, musing, and thinking seriously upon the great doubt
which thus extremely perplexed him. At length, throwing him-
self on his face upon the ground, and spreading out his hands, h(
cried aloud, " Yes, there is, there must be a God : and he, n<
question, if I duly and earnestly seek it of him, will teach me no<
only how to know, but how to serve him acceptably. He will
with me all my life here, and at the end will hereafter make m(
happy."

These are exalted and wonderful sentiments 7 for a child of si:

7 Wonderful sentimentsJ] It will be proper to subjoin here, from Hearne's
Caii Vindicia, vol. ii. p. 684, 5, the " Account of Mr. Nicholas Ferrar's first
years, from a paper MS. of Dr. (John) Worthington's." Its value is enhanced
by Dr. W. having been well acquainted with the party.

"Mr. Nicholas Ferrar was born about the year 1596, in London, of reli-
gious parents; who taught him in his infancy the first foundations of
Christian religion. He was taught at the age of four or five years to say his
prayers often every day ; to repeat the Church Catechism ; and to read the
Psalter and the New Testament.

" When he was six years old, and by his mother had been taught to read
perfectly throughout the whole Bible, it is worthy of memory and admiration
to hear what he did. Upon a Friday night in summer, having supped, as
the manner was, with bread and beer, and said his prayers and catechism,
his mother sent him up to bed. But this good child, having a mind set
upon God, went not to bed, but into an upper chamber or garret; where,
upon his knees, or sometimes flat upon the ground, he prayed, wept, com-
muned with his own heart, and with his gracious God all the night. Two
things especially in that night's holy exercise were so imprinted in the heart
and mind of the child that they came fresh into his memory every day of his
life. (This he told me more than once, two or three years before his death.)
The one was, the joy and sweetness which he did, in that watching night,
conceive and feel in his heart. The other was the gracious promise which
God made to him, to bless and keep him all his whole life, so that he would
constantly fear God and keep his commandments.

"This invocation and fervent prayer of this child, stirred up in him by
the Spirit and grace of God, was so followed by the same Spirit in an evident

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 129

years old : and this anecdote may influence the reader to give
credit to those sublime ecstasies of devotion which he experienced
and expressed at the close of his life.

His doubts now vanished, his mind became easy, and he
returned to his apartment : but the remembrance of what he felt
upon this occasion made him ever after strongly commiserate all
who laboured under any religious doubt, or despair of mind.
And in the future course of his life he had repeated opportunities
to exert his benevolence to those who experienced a similar
unhappiness.

In the year 1598, he was sent to Euborn school, near Newbury,
in Berkshire, where he made such a rapid progress in Latin,
Greek, and logic, that he soon became the first scholar of his
years. He strengthened his memory by daily exercise : he was
a great proficient in writing and arithmetic, and attained such
excellence in short hand, as to be able to take accurately a ser-
mon or speech on any occasion. He was also well skilled both in
the theory and practice of vocal and instrumental music.

Thus accomplished, in his fourteenth year, his master, Mr.
Brooks, prevailed with his parents to send him to Cambridge,
whither he himself attended him, and admitted him of Clare-hall,
presenting him, with due commendation of his uncommon abilities,
to Mr. Augustine Lindsell, the tutor, and Dr. Wm. Smith 8, then
master of the college.

His parents thought proper, notwithstanding the remonstrance
of some friends against it, to admit him a pensioner for the first
year ; as they conceived it more for his good, to rise by merit
gradually to honour. In this situation, by excellent demeanour,
and diligent application to his studies, he so deported himself in
all things, and to all persons, that he instantly gained the affec-
tions and applause of all who knew him, performing all his exer-
cises with distinguished approbation.

Mr. Lindsell spared not to make full proof of his abilities,

effectual vocation of him, that it resembleth the calling of Samuel, when he
was yet a child ; and Timothy's knowing God from his youth by his mother
Eunice, and his grandmother Lois's godly admonitions and instructions.
"At the age of thirteen, he went to Cambridge, to Clare Hall."
8 Dr. Wm. Smith.'] Or Smyth, fellow of King's College, elected master of
Clare Hall in 15Q8, chaplain to king James and rector of Willingham in 1607.
He died provost of King's in 1615.

VOL. iv. K

130 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

wishing, as he was used to express himself, to see his inside, as
well as his outside. He therefore made many trials of his abili-
ties, which the rest of the fellows thought unreasonable ; saying
"it was a shame to spur a fleet horse, which already outwent the
rider's own desire, and won every race he put him to." When
they urged that he required impossibilities, he would reply, " con-
tent yourselves a little, you shall see what the boy can do, and
that too without much trouble." These proofs of wonderful abi-
lities were continually repeated, and he thus went on from day to
day improving in all good learning. His attention and diligence
was such, that it was observed his chamber might be known by
the candle that was last put out at night, and the first lighted in
the morning. Nor was he less diligent in his attendance at
chapel, than at his studies, so that his piety and learning went on
hand in hand together.

In his second year he became fellow-commoner, and being now
every day more and more the companion of the fellows, he every
day became more and more esteemed by them. In 1610, he took
his degree of bachelor of arts. At this time he was appointed
to make the speech on the king's coronation day (July 25) in the
college hall ; and the same year he was elected fellow of that
society.

If we take a view of him at this period when he became fellow,
we shall find that his natural parts were wonderfully improved,
his memory so enlarged and strengthened, that he had read no-
thing of worth, but he had made it his own, and could always
instantly apply it to the present occasion. He spoke also and
wrote, and argued with such ingenious dexterity that very few
indeed were equal to him. Nevertheless he was still so eager in
the pursuit of farther acquisitions, that industry and genius
seemed to be incorporated in him. Nor was he more attentive
to his own instruction, than to the happiness of all with whom he
was concerned. For he was a constant and indefatigable pro-
moter of peace ; and when any difference had arisen, he had tin1
art so to win upon each side, that he would draw the ooateadiag
parties from their unfriendly resolutions, and reanimate and
blish harmony between them. Mr. Lindsell was used to say of
him, " May God keep him in a right mind ! For if he should
turn schismatic, or heretic, he would make work for all the world.
Such a head, such power of argument ! such a tongue, and su.-h

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 131

a pen ! such a memory withal he hath, with such indefatigable
pains, that, all these joined together, I know not who would be
able to contend with him."

His constitution was of feminine delicacy, and he was very sub-
ject to aguish disorders ; yet he bore them out in a great measure
by his temperance, and by a peculiar courageousness of spirit
which was natural to him. His favourite sister, married to Mr.
Collet, lived at Bourn Bridge, near Cambridge. And as the air
of Cambridge was found not well to agree with him, he made
frequent excursions to Bourn Bridge, where he passed his time
in the pursuit of his studies, and in the instruction of his sister's
children.

But his tutor, Mr. Lindsell, Mr. Ruggle9, and others of the
fellows, having now apprehension of his health, carried him to Dr.
Butler, the celebrated physician l of Cambridge, who had been of
Clare-hall, and was a particular friend of Mr. Lindsell. Dr. But-
ler conceived a great affection for Mr. Ferrar, and exerted all his
skill ; yet still the disorder increased more and more upon him ;
and at length this good physician said, " Why should I give thee
any more prescriptions ? ah1 I can do will not conquer this dis-
temper. Alas ! all I can say is, you must henceforth deal with

9 Mr. Ruggle.~\ [Mr. Ruggle wrote the Latin comedy of Ignoramus, which
was several times acted before king James I. at Cambridge and Royston,
with great applause. At one of which times the king cried out treason,
treason. And being asked what was the matter, said, he believed the author
and the actors together had a design to make him laugh himself to death.
Another time, when the king was seated, and expected the scholars to per-
form, he was surprised with the sound of a horn, and the appearance of a
post-boy, who said that Ignoramus was ready to perform his part, but that
none of the lawyers would lend him a gown to act in. Ah! said the king
(who was deceived, and took the scholar for a real post-boy), this is a plot of
Cukes ! (meaning the Lord Chief Justice Coke.) But if Cuke won't let the
lawyers lend him a gown, by my saul, man, he shall lend him his own. This
speech of the king put the audience into an exceeding merry humour, and
the play went on. But it is suggested that the play of Ignoramus, acted at
Cambridge, 1614, occasioned Mr. Selden's History of Tithes, published 1616,
in order to be even with the clergy. See Lloyd's Memoirs, fol. p. 520. F. P.]

1 Celebrated physician.] William Butler, who died 29th January, 1618.
He declared that prince Henry was poisoned, " from his brain being liver-
coloured and putrefied." Peacham says of him, "our late Master Butler of
Cambridge, that learned and excellent physician, was, like sir Thomas More
and other great scholars, observed to be most careless and slovenly in his
apparel."

K 2

132 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

this disorder when it comes to you, as men do with beggars,
when they have a mind to disuse them from their houses, give
them nothing but let them go as they came. You must through
a spare diet, and great temperance, even all your lite long, seek
to be quit of this unhappy companion : he must be starved away."

For some time after this Mr. Ferrar grew better, but soon
relapsed again, and in the autumn of 1612, he began to grow
very ill. His friends now feared he would not get over the
winter. Dr. Butler said, " I can do no more for him, the last
remedy, or hope I can give you is from the change of air. He
must go in the spring to travel. I doubt not but I can keep him
up this winter, and if travel recover him not, nothing will. Be-
sides, it is high time his mind be taken off from these his in-
cessant studies ; these alone, if he be permitted to go on, will
speedily destroy his constitution. The course I propose may
prolong his life till he is thirty-five years of age ; but longer, in
my judgment, it will not last. In the mean time, he will live to
do great good. And think not that his time spent in travel will
be lost ; no : depend upon it he will improve himself greatly.
Mr. Lindsell, go your way ; think of it : persuade his parents to
it. I can say no more to you. Let him go next spring. I will
take care of him this winter." And so he did most affectionately.

Mr. Ferrar was now almost seven years standing in the uni-
versity, and was to take his master of arts degree at the ensuing
Midsummer, 1613; and he had already performed with great
credit all his previous exercises.

It being made known to the heads of the university that he
was to travel, and to have the opportunity of going with that
noble company which then went with the lady Elizabeth2 to con-
duct her to the palatinate with the palsgrave her husband, it was
propounded that he might have the favour of cap and hood imme-
diately, though before the usual time, so as to be complete master
of arts before his departure, which was readily granted, and im-
mediately his graces were given him. And now many came to
present their most affectionate wishes to him for health and hap-
piness in his travels. And thus he bade Cambridge adieu !

2 Lady Elizabeth.'] Princess-royal of England, daughter of Jaines I., and
wife of Frederic, elector palatine, to whom she was married in February, 1613.
He assumed the crown of Bohemia in 1C 19, but after the battle of Prague,
in November, 1620, he not only lost his crown, but also his hereditary
dominions.

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 133

All things being settled with respect to his going abroad, Mr.
Ferrar left the following written farewell to his family, which his
mother found in his study a few days after he was gone.

" Since there is nothing more certain than death, nor more
uncertain than the time when ; I have thought it the first and
chiefest wisdom for a man to prepare himself for that which must
one day come, and always be ready for that which may every
hour happen : especially considering how dangerous any error is
here, which cannot be amended : neither is any one the nearer to
death for having prepared for it. It is then a thing of exceeding
madness and folly to be negligent in so weighty a matter, in re-
spect whereof all other things are trifles. I here confess my own
wretchedness and folly in this, that through the common hope of
youth, I have set death far from me : and persuading myself that
I had a long way to go, have walked more carelessly than I ought.
The good Lord God be merciful unto me.

" Indeed I have a long way to run, if death stood still at the
end of threescore years : but God knows if he be not running
against me, if he be not ready to grasp me, especially considering
the many dangers wherein I am now to hazard myself, in every
one whereof death dwells. If God be merciful to me, and bring
me safe home again, I will all the days of my life serve him in his
tabernacle, and in his holy sanctuary.

" I hope he who hath begun this mind in me will continue it,
and make me to walk so as I may be always ready for him, when
he shall come either in the public judgment of all the world, or
in private judgment to me by death. This is my purpose and
this shall be my labour.

" And you, my most dear parents, if God shall take me from
you, I beseech you be of good comfort, and be not grieved at my
death, which I undoubtedly hope shall be to me the beginning of
eternal happiness. It was God that gave me to you, and if he
take me from you, be not only content but joyful that I am deli-
vered from the vale of misery. This God that hath kept me ever
since I was born, will preserve me to the end, and will give me
grace to live in his faith, to die in his favour, to rest in his peace,
to rise in his power, and to reign in his glory.

" I know, my most dear parents, your tender affections to-
wards your children, and fear your grief if God take me away.
I therefore write and leave this, that you might know your son's

134 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

estate, and assure yourselves that though he be dead to you, yet
he is alive to God.

" I now most humbly beseech you to pardon me in whatsoever
I may have at any time displeased you : and I pray God to bless
and keep you : to give you a happy life here, and everlasting in
the world to come.

" Your most humble and obedient son,

" N. FERRAR."

" Postscript,

" My dearest brothers and sisters ; If I live, you shall find me
a faithful and loving brother unto you all : if I die, I beseech you
by the fear of God, by the duty to your parents, by the bond of
nature, by the love you bear me, that you all agree in perfect love
and amity ; and account every one the other's burthen to be his ;
so may plenty and prosperity dwell among you. So prays your
faithful and loving brother

" N. FEURAR."

" If I die, I desire that the value of ol. of my books may be
given to the college : the rest I leave to my father's and mother's
disposing : yet I desire that in them my worthy tutor Lindsel
and cousin Theophilus may be remembered : and if any of my
sisters' sons prove a scholar, the rest may be given to him.

" This 10th day of April, being Sunday."

His parents' consent, and the college license obtained, and the
favour of the university granted with respect to his degree, Mr.
Ferrar prepared to set out upon his travels : a course of life
undertaken upon Dr. Butler's counsel, for the restoration of his
health, and to take him off from his incessant application to
his studies. He also himself had a desire to see foreign coun-
tries for the further acquisition of knowledge. And as he \u-ll
understood the grounds of the protestant religion, and was con-
vinced of its truth on scriptural authority, as he had read most
of the fathers, and controversial writings between the church of
England and the church of Rome, and as he had a memory so
retentive, that he forgot nothing which he had read, but was able
at all times to bring it forth, and apply it to the present occasion,
being thus armed before-hand against whatever might occur, and

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 135

relying wholly upon the mercy of God to protect him, with the
most virtuous resolutions of heart he set out upon his travels.

His tutor Lindsell solemnly protested that had he not per-
fectly known his wonderful abilities and uncommon virtue, he
should not in these so tender years of his pupil have been a pro-
moter of his travelling in the manner he did, all alone ; but would
have provided some worthy tutor to attend him. He knew that
in all virtue Nicholas Ferrar was an old man, so firmly fixed in
his religious principles, that there was no fear of his being se-
duced by any thing that he should hear or see. He knew that
the stock of learning, wisdom, and religion which he carried out
with him, would be increased at his return.

With these encouragements did Mr. Lindsell appease the fears
and tender anxieties of his parents at parting with him : for they
bade him farewell under the dread of never seeing him again.
And indeed not without reason : for he was then far from being
recovered of his aguish disorder : but Dr. Butler said the sea
would remove it, and they would soon hear that he was freed
from his infirmity.

Sometime before this 3, Dr. Scot 4, the king's sub-almoner, was
made master of Clare-hall, in the place of Dr. Smith, removed to
be provost of Kings. He conceived a high respect and affection
for Nicholas Ferrar, and undertook that he should be introduced
to the lady Elizabeth, to go in her company and retinue ; she
being now ready to depart with the prince palsgrave her husband,
who were to go first to Zealand, then to Holland, and from thence
home to the palatinate. Dr. Scot therefore took Mr. Ferrar to
court, to kiss her royal highness1 hand : not now in the garb of a
scholar, but habited as one of the gentlemen who belonged to
her. As for him he took no delight in these gay garments, but
submitted from a sense of propriety to be thus clad, and to satisfy
his friends more than himself. Dr. Scot also introduced him, and
procured him the knowledge and acquaintance of the whole at-
tendance of the English courtiers who then went with the lady
Elizabeth.

Being now provided with his bills of exchange, he went in the
same ship with the master of the green cloth, who took an espe-
cial liking to him. They arrived happily at Flushing, where the

3 Before this.'] In 1612.

4 Dr. Scot.'] Who was afterwards made dean of Rochester, in July, 1615,
and died in December, 1620.

136 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

royal fleet landed their passengers. And in this voyage Mr.
Ferrar found the benefit of the sea air which, as Dr. Butler told
him it would, cleared him of all the remains of his disorder. At
Middleburgh the lady Elizabeth was highly entertained and
feasted with all her noble attendants ; and Mr. Ferrar as one of
her gentlemen wanted for no marks of due notice and respect.
Here he made strict observation of every thing worth seeing, and
gained a sufficient acquaintance with the language to serve him
for all ordinary affairs and occasions. From thence the lady
Elizabeth passed on from city to city, in all which she was received
with great honour, and came to the Hague: from thence to
Amsterdam, where she was more magnificently entertained than
at any former place. In all these towns Mr. Ferrar visited the
several meeting-houses of the Brownists, Anabaptists, and other
Protestant dissenters, both to observe their manners and teaching,
and to see if all were answerable to his own former reading. At
all which times he noted their errors, and greatly confirmed him-
self in his own opinions. The Jews' synagogue likewise he left
not unseen, and their orders. But that which chiefly attracted
his notice at Amsterdam was their guest, or almshouses, where
young children of both sexes are brought up to learn handicrafts.
Here he got particular information of all their proceedings, and
very liberally rewarded the attendants. He particularly admired
the stateliness and neatness of the Dutch in these public edifices,
and the wonderful good orders and rules by which they are go-
verned. He also visited their churches, heard their sermons, and
attended all their religious rites and ceremonies. He next observed
their magazines for all sorts of stores : their innumerable boats
and ships, and noted the different way of building from ours in
the structure of their war ships. Ours he perceived were stronger
made, but theirs formed with more advantage for speedy sailing.
He was also charmed with their cleanliness and the many good
orders every where observed to that intent. And he observed
that the whole nation kept their houses elegantly neat in all places.
When he came to his lodgings he regularly entered all his obser-
vations in a book which he kept for that purpose.

The princess royal now directed her course towards the pala-
tinate, which was different from the route intended by Mr. Ferrar,
who had resolved to pass through the lower parts of Westphalia,
and so to Bremen, Staad, Hamburgh, Lunenburgh, Lulu-ck.
Leipsic, and so on to the upper parts of Germany. This his deter-

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 137

mination he made known to the lady Elizabeths chief attendants,
who warmly pressed him to accompany them to Heidelberg, the
palsgrave^s court, and the chief city of the palatinate. They told
him that her highness had taken such good notice of him herself,
and had heard so much of him from the commendations of others,
that if he sought preferment by his travels, he might now, even
at the first, make a very fair step towards it. There was no
doubt but he might be made her secretary, that she would think
him well worthy of that place, and might recommend him to a
better. He humbly thanked them for their good opinion, but
assured them they were mistaken in his abilities. He was then
introduced to her royal highness, and kissed her hand, who bade
him farewell, and wished him much happiness in his travels.

Mr. Ferrar now set forward on his journey from Amsterdam to
Hamburgh, and on his way thither he travelled for some time
with a person for his guide, who had but one eye. After some
days1 travel they passed by a wood, where was a gibbet and some
bodies hanging in chains. " Now," said the postman, " sir, look
yonder ; those villains there hanging, some years since set upon
my waggon, wherein were an English youth, and a Hamburgh
merchant, then newly come out of Spain. The rogues carried us
into that wood on a cold frosty morning and stripped us : and
they found good gold tied up in the shirts of the gentlemen who
had travelled with me, which they took, then drank up our wine,
and went away laughing. But sometime after, they, still using
the same trade, set upon another waggon, whose passengers made
some resistance, when they shot three of them dead in the waggon,
and then fled. They were afterwards taken, and there hanged as
you see." " Your history is true," said Mr. Ferrar ; " for that
English youth was my brother. He has told me this story him-
self. And when I first saw you, I knew you to be the postman
with whom he travelled, for he described you as having but one
eye."

At length he arrived at Hamburgh, where the factors of the
merchant adventurers were resident, to whom his father and bro-
ther were well known. Here he found fresh bills of exchange,
and letters from his father to Mr. Gore, his old acquaintance, and
then deputy-governor of the company ; who received Mr. Ferrar
with great friendship and respect, and provided a convenient
lodging for him. During his stay here he procured a scholar of
that country to attend him daily at his lodgings, and instruct him

138 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

in the high Dutch5 language, in which he made such a proficiency
as to be of great service in the course of his travels. Here also
in the afternoon he spent some hours in examining the curiosities
in this city, and in the places adjacent. And here he informed
himself by reading the histories in the Dutch language, and by
discourse with men of learning in the place, of the original of this
and the neighbouring cities : of their several sorts of government ;
their religion ; ecclesiastical establishment ; their trades ; their
commerce ; the nature and disposition of the people, and their
particular virtues and vices.

From Hamburg Mr. Ferrar travelled up the country through
many cities, at each of which he staid a sufficient time to see, and
make observations upon all things worthy of notice, which he
regularly entered into his book for that use in short hand.

In this manner he passed up to the university of Leipsic in
Saxony : where, having proper letters of credit, he resolved to
abide for some time, both to perfect himself in the high Dutch
language, and to gain also what other knowledge and learning he
could in that place ; and to acquaint himself with the manner
of ordering all things in that university. He lodged himself
therefore in a principal house of that city, which by a friend's
help he obtained permission to do ; and the people there were very
civil and courteous to him. The English factors shewed him
much respect, and were greatly delighted with his pleasant dispo-
sition and temper. And they were the more taken with him
when they saw that he would not upon any terms drink wine or
any strong drink, and had also observed his great temperance in
all things, and that he was very humble and meek in his behaviour.
Yet still they saw him gallant and rich in apparel. But that
fashion of dress his parents thought was the best for him to make
use of in his travels, that so, according to the mode of the world,
he might have the easier admittance into all places, and all
respectable company.

At Leipsic he made enquiry after all the ablest scholars in
every art and science in that university, who could be procured
for money to teach him ; and he paid them all most liberally, and
far beyond their expectations. From these circumstances he was
thought to be some person of great account. These his several
tutors coming to him at set times, and on several days, and his

ifjh Dutch."} The German language, die dcutschc Sprache.

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 139

personal resorting with the utmost diligence to all the exercises
performed in the public schools, made him to be very much
noticed. He gained great reputation for his uncommon abilities,
his diligence, and his sweet deportment ; his extraordinary quick-
ness in attaining whatsoever he set himself to, the elegant Latin
which he spake with the utmost readiness, and his abundant know-
ledge in several sorts of learning. The universal admiration he
obtained was also much heightened by his being so very young.
His acquaintance was desired by all the learned men of that
university : and he being free in all courtesy to enter into discourse
with them, many every day resorted to him. But finding that
this took up too much of his time, he privately retired into lodg-
ings in a village in the neighbourhood, and there enjoyed a better
opportunity to follow the studies he had resolved upon ; his tutors
attending him as they had done before. And here he passed
some time in reading over the best authors who had written on
the German nation, and in acquainting himself with the nature of
the government, laws, and customs.

The connection of the English factors at Leipsic with their
principals at home soon transmitted the fame of Nicholas Ferrar
to England, who was deemed and represented as a person who
had some great intent in his mind, but that it was feared by all
that he could not live to be a man of any considerable years.

As on one hand his parents could not but rejoice on hearing
these accounts, so on the other they could not help fearing that
his extreme application might, though at present he was in per-
fect health, nevertheless decay his strength, and shorten his life.
They therefore exhorted him to curb his too diligent mind, and to
abate of his incessant studies, for that they would allow him what
time and money he would for his expences.

Having now learned what he could at Leipsic, he departed
from thence for Prague, and there he abode a considerable time,
till he was able to converse fluently in the high Dutch language.
From thence he wandered up and down, to every great place here
and there, sometimes backwards, sometimes forward, visiting
Augsburg, Strasburg, Nuremberg, Ulme, Spires, the emperor's
court, and so from one princess court to another, observing every
where their manner of living, and spending their time ; what
magazines of arms they had ; what retinues they kept ; what their
incomes were ; from whence they had their origin ; what had
been their revolutions ; and accurately noting down whatever

140 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

Germany had in any place worth recording. There being also in
several parts of Germany very ingenious handicrafts of various
sorts, in all these he acquired a considerable degree of knowledge.
So that there was scarce any trade, art, skill or science concerning
which he could not discourse to the astonishment even of the
professors themselves in their respective professions. He was
master also of the technical terms of their several mysteries, and
could speak properly to them in their own dialect. He could
express all those things that belong to war, soldiery, and arms,
all that belong to ships, and navigation, and was perfect in all the
mariners^ peculiar phrases, and in all the particularities of every
trade and occupation in common life. And in truth all this with-
out any great care or trouble. For his penetration was so acute,
and his memory so vast and retentive ; that every thing he read,
or heard, or saw, was all his own, and he could instantly apply it
to the occasion that presented itself, as all who knew him found
by daily proof.

From Germany, Nicholas Ferrar bent his course for Italy.
But the plague being at that time in many towns of Germany,
when he came into the Venetian territories, he was obliged to
remain thirty days in one place in a lazaretto, where he was shut
up for public security ; but was allowed a chamber to himself.
Here he had leisure to recollect all those things, which to that
time had passed in his travels ; to review his notes and observa-
tions, which he had before all along put into short hand ; and to
digest them into better order for his future use. Here also he
had time to meditate what he was to do in Italy ; how to order
himself and his future life to the best advantage to attain his
several ends in travel.

Having compleated the thirty days of his confinement, and
being again at liberty to prosecute his journey, it may not be
amiss to relate a remarkable escape he had upon the road betwivn
Prague and Padua. As he rode one day upon some very narrow
and dangerous passages of the Alps, his guide being somewhat
before him, suddenly from the side of a hill came an ass laden
with a great piece of timber. The passage down the hill was
( xtremely narrow, on one side very high and precipitous above
him, and on the other also precipitously steep and fearful, so that
if any man fell, nothing but immediate death could be expected.
The timber did not lie, as at first laid down, lengthwise, but quite
across the ass's back, and reached the whole breadth of the j«a»

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 141

from one side to the other, and the beast came down the hill
apace. The guide, who was advanced a few yards, and had passed
the narrow crevice through which the ass came into the common
road, seeing Mr. Ferrar's situation, cried out in terror. The
man's exclamation caused Mr. Ferrar to look up, who was care-
fully regarding his horsed steps, and was then upon the extreme
brink of the precipice. There was but a moment between him
and certain destruction; when in that moment, just as the beast
came upon him she tripped, and by that motion the timber was
turned the right way as it was at first laid on. Mr. Ferrar then
suddenly stopping his horse upon the very edge of the precipice,
there stood still, till, as it pleased God, the beast went quietly on
with her burthen, and passed him without any harm but a slight
stroke from the timber. After this providential escape, for which
he returned his most devout thanks to God, he proceeded on his
road to Padua, and so on to Venice, without any other disaster.

At Venice Mr. Ferrar found letters of recommendation directed
for sir Dudley Carleton, at that time 6 the English ambassador
there, which he presented to him, who most courteously embraced
him, saying, u I have a long time expected your coming to
Venice ; for I have received several letters from many noble
personages concerning you. And now, sir, assure yourself that
wherein I may in any kind befriend you, I shall most gladly do
it." The ambassador then caused him to dine with him, and
invited him, he said, once for all to do so every day. Mr. Ferrar
frequently repaired to him that he might inform himself from so
eminent a person of those things that might be of service to him
in his future travels.

Having now staid a convenient time at Venice, he returned to
Padua, which before he had only passed through, but now resolved
to settle there for some time ; in order to perfect himself in all
the learning and knowledge to be attained in that university.
Here therefore he procured tutors in those sciences in which he
intended to be farther instructed. And he won their highest
admiration at his ingenious questions and answers, his ready
apprehension, his earnest prosecution, and his wonderful pro-
ficiency, in so many and such various studies, which at the same
time seemed to him no other than so many several recreations.

6 At that time.'] From 1610 to 1615, when he was succeeded by sir Henry
Wotton.

142 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

His acquaintance was courted by all the learned men in the
university, but particularly by the most eminent physicians ; as
he bestowed uncommon diligence in the pursuit of medical know-
ledge. And this he did from a double motive, both because he
held the physic fellowship at Clare Hall, and also on account of
the infirm and precarious state of his own health : in which
respect a proper proficiency in the science of medicine might be
peculiarly serviceable to him. And now his friendship with the
Paduan physicians, and their high esteem and great love for him,
was of singular benefit to him : for he fell very dangerously ill of
a disorder, which in all human probability would have proved
fatal, had it not been for their watchful care, and most tender
attentions.

It has been suggested by Mr. Archdeacon Oleya, that some of
these Paduan physicians, during Mr. Ferrar's illness, endeavored
to seduce him to popery : as also, that upon his recovery from
this illness, he made a vow of perpetual celibacy : and that he
\\ould upon his return to England, as soon as he could conve-
niently, settle his affairs for that purpose, and endeavour to spend
tin- remainder of his life in a religious retirement. But of these
articles I do not find sufficient evidence : yet if the latter be true,
it will account for a very remarkable instance of self-denial, which
will occur in the future part of his life.

While Mr. Ferrar continued thus at Padua, to establish his
health, and pursue his studies, he had an opportunity of exer-
cising his great faculty in quieting a troubled mind. For now an
English gentleman came thither, who by the impious custom of
duelling had killed another, and had fled from his country to
a\nid the puni.-hment which the laws adjudge to murderers. He
was under the deepest melancholy, but concealed the cause of
his uneasiness. At length, however, he acquainted Mr. Ferrar
\\ith his misfortune, declaring his great contrition, and sincere
repentance ; and beseeching him to give him counsel and com-
fort. Mr. Ferrar by his spiritual consolations, his persuasive
Mients, and wonderful power over the human mind, at length
made the unhappy sufferer more easy and composed, and con-
firmed him in the hope of forgiveness. And this event laid the

• [Postscript to Mr. Herbert's Country Parson, F. P.] See Thomas
Baker's account of Oley, given to Hearne in Auu and printed in

Cflfi Vindicuf, vol. ii. p. 690.

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 143

foundation of a sincere and most affectionate friendship between
them b.

Mr. Ferrar thus passing his time between Venice and Padua in
a course of learning and virtue, and in the most laudable pursuits,
he was much sought after, and visited by the English who were
then also on their travels; who were delighted with his con-
versation, notwithstanding that his way of life and manner of
thinking were very different from their own : and they would often
ingenuously confess that he was certainly in the right way, and
that they could not but wish they could live as he lived.

These gentlemen on their return to England spoke of him in
the highest terms of applause to their respective families and
connections. The Italian merchants also and the English factors
resident in different parts of Italy, with whom he had transac-
tions on money concerns, all wrote of him to their correspondents
in England, with the warmest commendations, considering him
as one who had some great object in view, and would sometime
appear to the world possessed of very extraordinary talents.
Thus his reputation became general : on the exchange, in the
city, at court, and all over the country he was universally known
and universally admired.

Having now finished his intended studies, having traversed all
Italy, and become intimately acquainted with every place of con-
sequence, being perfect master of the Italian language, both for
writing and discourse, having an accurate knowledge of all their
laws, customs, manners, doctrines, and practices, civil and eccle-
siastic, and having made the best use of every thing he had heard,
read, or seen, and being determined as to his future plan of con-
duct, he resolved at last to pay a visit to imperial Rome. He
knew indeed before he went thither, as much of that celebrated
city, both ancient and modern, as could be learned from history,
and from conversation with many persons of great judgment and
observation, who had lately been there : but he was desirous to
confirm what he had learned by information from others, by his
own observation. But having been well informed that since he
came into Italy, there had been a particular account of him sent
to Rome, of the college of which he was fellow in Cambridge, of
his degrees, and his acquisitions in learning, and particularly
that his person had been described in all points to the college of

b [This unfortunate gentleman is the person who in the original MS. is
frequently referred to as Mr. G ] Gorton ?

144 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

Jesuits there ; the manner also in which he had spent his time in
Italy, with the general conjecture, that he surely had some farther
end in travelling, than other gentlemen ordinarily have : all this
duly considered made him keep his intention very private. For
he foresaw that without great caution some mischief might pro-
bably befal him. Changing his habit therefore for such a dress
as he thought was most proper for his disguise, and safety, he set
forward, concealing the time when, and keeping the place from
whence he came always unknown to all but one trusty friend only,

the unfortunate Mr. G , who, whatever should befal him in

that journey, might give an account of him to his family. He
travelled on foot, and contrived his business so that he came to
Rome on the Monday before Easter ; and during his stay there,
he every day changed his lodgings, coining in late and going out
early: and as to his repast, such as it was, he took that al><>
sometimes at one place, sometimes at another, and sometimes at
none at all. He staid at Rome about ten days, and in that time
he so improved his opportunities as that he satisfied himself in
seeing all that he desired. But the particulars need not be here
recited, as they may be found in many other books upon this
subject.

From Rome he returned to Venice, not acquainting any one
whore he had been. At his return he was welcomed home by
the English gentlemen, and all his other acquaintance ; as was
the custom with them at other times, after his other excursions.
In one of these, he went to see the chapel of Loretto. From
thence he went to Malta, where one of the knights conceiving a
particular friendship for him, at their parting desired his accept-
ance of one of the rich crosses worn by the brethren of that
order, entreating him to keep it for his sake ; and thus exchan^in^
mutual good wishes and benedictions, Mr. Ferrar returned a_
to Venice.

And now intending at length to leave Italy, he went from

Venice to Marseilles, purposing after he had passed sufficient

tiiiM- in that city, for visiting what was remarkable there and in

th' parts adjacent, to take ship there and sail from thence to

in.

Hut at Marseilles he fell dangerously ill. being suddenly sei/<-d
with a violent fever, \\hirli daily grew worse and worse. And
what added to his misfortune, he knew no one in the place, nor
liad h« an\ of lii> lonu.-r aruuaintanre with him. In this dis-

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 14.5

tress he sent for the most celebrated physician in the city, and
trusted himself entirely to his care. He was very regular in his
attendance, and was very careful of him. His host also and
hostess where he lodged shewed great tenderness and attention
to him.

The first day he was taken ill he wrote to his much loved
friend whom he had left at Venice, the unfortunate Mr. G., to
whom he had promised to give information of his arrival at Mar-
seilles. In this letter he .acquainted him that he was beginning
to grow ill, and feared his illness would prove both long and dan-
gerous. Nor was he mistaken, for his illness continued thirty-four
days, and his physician was for a long time in absolute despair
of his life. This made his attendants desirous to know who he
was, which Mr. Ferrar industriously concealed. But one day, as
they were looking amongst his things for something he had called
for, carefully wrapped up in a little box, was discovered the rich
cross which was presented to him by his friend the knight of
Malta, at his departure from that island. At sight of this, the
host and hostess, and the physician presently concluded that he
was a knight of that order, who was travelling unknown, and
they earnestly entreated him no longer to conceal himself. Mr.
Ferrar in vain endeavoured to convince them of the mistake,
assuring them that he was only a private gentleman, travelling
for amusement and instruction ; for the more he affirmed this,
the more they were confirmed in their own opinion. His disorder
still continuing excessive, the physician had given him up for lost.
But at the very moment when all hope was gone, a favourable
crisis took place ; and though he was extremely weak and reduced
to the lowest degree, yet he soon appeared to be in a fair way of
recovery.

And now word was brought to him that there was a gentleman
below, just arrived from Venice, who demanded to see him. They
who know what true friendship is, need not to be informed that
this person could be no other than his dear and unfortunate friend
Mr. G. When he came into Mr. Ferrar's room, and beheld his
friend lying on the bed of sickness, so pale, weak, and reduced,
he burst into tears. His friend was equally affected, seeing him
so unexpectedly. They mutually embraced, and a long, and
affectionately expressive silence ensued : for their hearts were so
full, that neither could for some time speak to the other. At
length Mr. Ferrar told him how welcome he was to him, who but

VOL. IV. J,

146 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

yesterday expected never to see him more. Mr. G. replied, that
on rli. receipt of his letter he became so deeply afflicted., that he
could not rest day or night, till he should see him ; that if he
should find him still sick, he might abide with him and take care
of him : that if he should die, he might perform the due honours
of burial ; and that if he should recover, he might rejoice with
him on that happy occasion, and in every respect shew him that
unfeigned friendship which was justly due to his uncommon
virtue.

As a sincere and affectionate friend is perhaps the most effec-
tual medicine that can be administered to the sick, so by the en-
dearing attentions of the benevolent Mr. G. Mr. Ferrar e
day advanced apace in his recovery. And when he was thought
to be out of danger, Mr. G. said he must at last bid him farewell,
and return to Venice. " Yes," said Mr. Ferrar, "you shall now
return to Venice, but I will return with you. For as you have
been so very kind as to come so far to take care of me when I
was ill, and have likewise staid so long with me, it is but justice,
and the least return I can make, to see you safe back;" nor
would he take any refusal ; and so they returned together to
Venice. From this place Mr. Ferrar immediately gave his pa-
rents an account of his cruel sickness, and recovery at Mar-
seilles, in a very affectionate letter bearing date April 1616.

Having staid at Venice till he was perfectly recovered, and his
strength thoroughly recruited, he took his last leave of all his
friends and acquaintance there; but particularly of his dear
friend Mr. G., who at their parting presented him with an ex-
cellent and costly rapier, saying that perhaps it might be of
great use to him in his future travels, and wished him to keep it
as a testimony of his friendship. And now these dear friends
with the warmest affection bade each other adieu ! for in the
gulph of Venice a small English vessel was ready to sail for
Spain, and Mr. Ferrar resolved to take his passage in her, that
might travel through Spain, and see that kingdom, after
\\hich he proposed in like manner to see France, and so return

Tin- >hip in which Mr. Ferrar left Venice, carried only t< n
pieces of prdnance, but was overloaded, though there were no
passengers but himself. They had not been long at sea, before
a large ship, a Turkish pirate, gave them chace, and gained
speedily upon thrm. Ami there bein^ >omi- 'lifference of opinion

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 147

between the officers and mariners, whether they ought to yield,
or fight it out ; they referred their doubts to Mr. Ferrar, who
had stood silent among them attending to their debate. They
said, " This young gentleman has a life to lose, as well as we ;
let us hear what he thinks of the matter." For from his first
coming on board, upon discourse with him, they had taken a
great liking to him, perceiving that he had great skill in maritime
affairs.

Mr. Ferrar being thus applied to in form for his opinion, reso-
lutely told them that they ought to fight it out, and put their trust
in God. That it was better to die valiantly, than be carried into
slavery. That God could easily deliver them, and he hoped would
not suffer them to fall into the hands of their enemy. He then
put them in mind of the many sea engagements achieved by their
countrymen, in which the victory had been gained against superior
numbers. Thus encouraged, his words were so prevalent, that
with all speed they made ready to defend themselves, committing
their cause to the protection of God. And to shew that they
were not deficient in English spirit, they, having the advantage
of the wind, and a fit opportunity, determined to give their enemy
a broadside : when, lo ! just as the master was giving the word
to the gunner to fire, the Turkish ship to their great astonishment
fell off, and steered away from them with all the sail she could
make. They soon perceived that this unexpected movement was
from the discovery of another ship, which they supposed was
thought to be a better booty. The Turk being gone they pro-
ceeded on their voyage, and without any farther difficulty arrived
at their destined port in Spain.

Soon after his arrival, Mr. Ferrar determined to see Madrid,
and the king's court, and whatever else was worth notice in that
part of the country. But having spent some time at Madrid, he
had also spent almost all the money he had brought with him
from Venice. He therefore made an enquiry whether there
were any bills of exchange, or letters for him, directed to some of
the English merchants in that city, but could not hear of any ;
for he had reached Madrid long before his father thought he
could be there. In making this enquiry, he carried the matter
so, as if it was for a gentleman of the name of Ferrar, who, he
expected, would be there about that time : for he was resolved, if
possible, not to discover himself. But it happened that a Mr.

L 2

148 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

Wyche, the son of a merchant 7, a particular friend of Mr. Ferraris
father, was at that time at Madrid. And he being informed that
this young gentleman and stranger made frequent enquiry after
one of the name of Ferrar, kept an observant eye upon him.
And perceiving something very extraordinary in his genteel
deportment, in the wisdom, and the wit of his conversation, and
his great knowledge in languages, he concluded him to be some
person of high fashion, who was desirous to travel unknown : and
thereupon, both himself, and all the English established there,
made him an offer of all the civilities in their power.

But as he was now at a stand how to proceed, and what course
to take in order to pass through Spain, and then through France
home, and being uneasy that no bills of exchange were come for
such a one as he enquired after, he suddenly determined to travel
no farther at present ; but immediately to make the best of his
way to England, and in order to this, to travel on foot as well as
he could to St. Sebastian's, and there take ship for his native
country.

In preparation for this expedition, as he still resolved, if pos-
sible, to keep himself unknown, he privately sold his cloak, and
some jewels which he had by him, to supply his present occasions,
and provide for his future wants in his journey. At quitting
Madrid he took leave of Mr. Wyche, and the other English
merchants, with acknowledgments of their many civilities to him.
At which time Mr. Wyche made him an offer of what money he
might want, which Mr. Ferrar politely declined.

And now he set forward on foot, with the rich rapier in his hand,
presented to him by his dear friend Mr. G., without a cloak, in
his doublet and cassock. And with many a weary step, and very
few accommodations, he pursued his journey, till he found his
feet after a few days' travelling on the hot sands of that country
t" Ix'come quite wearied, and the skin to come off, so that it was
excessively painful to him to proceed. One night his hostess
where he lodged, seeing he was a young foot traveller, and that
he suffered greatly from the torment of his feet, prescribed to
him to bathe and steep his feet for a considerable time in a bowl

7 Son of a merchant.'] Richard Wyche, of an old Cheshire family, was a
merchant of high note in London. He had twelve sons, one of whom, Peter,
(afterwards sir Peter Wyche, for many years ambassador at Constantinople),
is probably the person here mentioned.

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 149

of sack which she brought for that purpose. This gave him
immediate ease, and enabled him to proceed comfortably on his
journey the next morning, and by future applications prevented
all future inconveniences of that sort.

His reason for travelling always with his rapier in his hand,
was not only to be instantly on his defence in case of any
sudden attack, but that he might also pass the more readily in
all places as a young gentleman soldier, going towards Flanders
to serve the king of Spain, under Spinola 8. And upon the way
at all fit times, and places, as he travelled, he seemed to be very
inquisitive about Spinola, and what he was doing in Flanders ; so
that all with whom he had any discourse of this sort took him
for an Italian. But at one place where he passed the night, the
governor being informed of a stranger who lodged in the town,
examined him strictly in many particulars. And Mr. Ferrar
made him such wary answers, that he was at a loss what farther
to say to him. At last, casting his eyes upon the rapier, he told
him that costly rapier was unbefitting him, for he knew not how
he came by it, and therefore he would have it from him. Mr.
Ferrar told him he must pardon him in not parting with his
weapon, which a soldier ought to preserve as his life ; adding that
it was given him by a dear and worthy friend, who enjoined him
to keep it, and that he was determined so to do. But this did
not satisfy the governor, who told him that stout as he was he
should deliver the rapier to him before he departed, or he would
make him repent his refusal. Mr. Ferrar replied, that he hoped
there was more justice to be found every where in Spain, than to
take by force an innocent traveller's weapon from him. That he
had not in any thing offended Caesar, or his laws, or the customs
of his country since he was in it, and that he would be cautious
not to do so during the remainder of his stay. That he came
very lately from the king's court, and that he had friends there
who would not suffer him to receive any wrong. From this wise
and resolute answer, his determined behaviour, and a style of
language so far above his outward appearance, the standers-by
concluded him to be some other man than his habit declared, and
advised the governor to meddle no more with him about the

8 Under Spinola.'] The marquis Ambrogio Spinola, the celebrated com-
mander of the Spanish forces in the war which broke out in 1614, caused by
the disputed succession to the duchies of Juliers and Cleves.

150 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

rapier. Who, then addressing himself to Mr. Ferrar, said,
41 Well, I perceive you are a young Italian gentleman, and enquire
after our affairs in Flanders, and after the marquis Spinola your
countryman, to whom I understand you are going. I like well
your weapon, which in truth is most handsome and soldierlike ;"
and so he dismissed him to proceed on his journey.

While Mr. Ferrar travelled thus alone over a great part of
Spain, he walked once half a day without seeing any body, and
was therefore obliged to guess at his way, by the best observation
he could make, to proceed straight forward from the place where
he had lodged the night before. A nd it being now near evening,
he perceived tliat the road he was in led him to a very high hill,
which at length he with no small pains and difficulty ascended :
and being arrived at the top, he there found a round plat of level
ground, of considerable magnitude, encompassed entirely with
rocks of a prodigious height, and extremely steep on every side,
neither could he discern any pathway, except that by which he
had ascended, to lead him out from this rocky enclosure, and
thereby encourage him to go forward.

At the sight of this he was much troubled, thinking he had
wholly mistaken the hill which he had been directed to ascend,
and that he must at last take up his unhoused lodging there that
night. Being thus perplexed, and not knowing what to do, he
devoutly knelt down, and prayed to God to protect and direct
him. Then examining with careful anxiety all parts, to see if he
could find any way to help him forward in his journey, for it was
too late to think of returning, he espied a large black hog come
hastily running out from a narrow crevice or cleft in the rock,
and immediately disappear again. But he with his eyes observed,
and with his feet made all possible haste to follow and see what
was become of the beast. For he conceived hopes that it might
be some tame animal, now in the evening returning to its home,
and consequently that possibly there was some dwelling-house
not far off. Presently he saw the same creature again, now
running at the further end of the level plain down the side oi
hill. And, coming to the spot, he perceived a hollow, covered
passage, cut into the solid rock, and at some distance v.ithin this
hollow, a sort of window or air-hole, to give light and air to this
Mjl.r. -i -ram an passage. Resolving therefore to follow the animal
which h< jilaiiil\ MLW to eater this cavity, after some time, and
very caution found a turning which -

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 151

step more and more dark. Yet stopping a little while, listening,
and still looking and venturing slowly more forward, he discerned,
as he thought, a glimmering of more light at a distance. So he
went on, and found it to be another window or air-hole, cut
like the former through the solid rock to give farther light to the
subterranean passage. Thus proceeding onwards, in the same
manner, and under the same disagreeable circumstances, he at
length plainly perceived that this passage was a way to some sub-
terranean habitation, cut by human labour into the heart of the
rock. Thereupon listening and proceeding with caution, he
fancied that he heard the voices of people talking at no great
distance. Eesolving therefore to go forward again, he found at
length that there was indeed a sort of house in the very substance
of the rock, and that it was a harbour, or place of entertainment
for passengers who travelled that way.

Coming into the room he saluted the host, and the people who
were there ; and sitting down he called for bread and wine, and
then began to discourse with them how hard it was to find the
way to them ; which, they said, to a stranger, must be indeed
extremely difficult, but was not so to those who were acquainted
with the turns and windings of that subterraneous labyrinth. He
then called for more wine to wash and bathe his feet. Which
done, after some communication of ordinary matters, such as
travellers use with their hosts, he made strict observation of the
disposition and manners of the people in the house, and found
great reason not very well to like them ; but now there was no
remedy.

As for the people, they thought him to be a young Italian
soldier, going to the marquis Spinola. For that way his conver-
sation much tended, and shewed that he was well acquainted with
all the military transactions in Flanders with the Hollanders. At
length he told them that he was very weary and very sleepy, and,
if they pleased, would lie down upon a bench, and take some rest.
For that, he pretended, was his custom when he travelled, in
order to inure himself to hardships.

Thereupon they shewed him into another room within the
cavern ; and Mr. Ferrar, not laying his rapier away, but keeping
it close to him, lay down to sleep. But he was scarce laid down,
when two lusty, ruffian-looking fellows and a young woman came
into the room. Mr. Ferrar heard and saw them, but lay still, as
if he was fast asleep. The men then demanded of the people of

NICHOLAS FERRAR.

the house, " Who is this here, who lies sleeping upon the bench 2"
they answered, u We know not ; he is lately come in very weary,
and says he is a young Italian soldier, who is going into Flanders,
to serve under Spinola." And then they entered into some con-
versation in a very low voice, which Mr. Ferrar could not hear.

After this they sat down at a table at the farther end of the
room, and in a bold manner began to call for various things, and
in drinking their wine they discoursed of different matters, and at
length grew very merry. But at last one of the fellows went out,
and after a short time came in again, and then after some slight
and foolish words began to quarrel with the woman. She gave
him as cross words in return, and their other companion taking
her part, from words they came to blows, and began to lay hands
on the woman. Whereupon she crying out, the host came run-
ning in, but instead of being appeased by him, they grew more
and more fierce. All this Mr. Ferrar heard and saw, but
appeared as if he was in a sound sleep, and kept his hand fast
upon his rapier. They called to him for help, but he regarded
not their brawling, still making as if he was dead asleep. There-
fore as he continued to lie still, and seemed to take no notice of
them, their contention ceased, and they all went out of the room
in very friendly terms together.

Mr. Ferrar saw all this was done to provoke him to rise, and
take one part or other, that so they might have quarrelled with
him, and carried into execution some bad design against him. But
he heard no more of them ; and not being able to sleep, he rose
at day-break, and made haste away, giving God thanks for his
escape out of their hands.

After his escape from this subterranean abode, having travelled
five hundred miles in Spain, in the heat of summer, alone, and on
foot, making his observations on the country, its curiosities, and
productions, and on the disposition and manners of the people,
he at length arrived safely at St. Sebastian's. Here he found a
ship ready to sail for England, but waiting for a fair wind. In
this interval he received great civilities from the captain of the
vessel, and from all the English settled at that place. At len.Lfth
the wind came fair, and after a few days1 happy passage he landed
at Dover, \\liere he returned his sincere thanks to God for bring-
ing him in health and safety to his native country.

\\e are now no longer to consider Mr. Ferrar as a young gen-
tlcman travelling for amusement and instruction, displaying every

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 153

where uncommon abilities, illustrious virtue, and indefatigable
industry, exciting the highest admiration, and receiving in every
country universal applause ; but we shall now see him the man of
business, applying, with unwearied attention, the great talents with
which God had blessed him, to important negotiations both of a
private and a public nature.

His return was at a very critical time. For one branch of his
family was in great distress, and stood in need of his care and
wisdom. His brother John Ferrar was likewise entered into
a great public employment, by which he became engaged in
many affairs which required his assistance. For sir Edwyn
Sandys being chosen governor of the Virginia company, Mr.
John Ferrar was made king's counsel for that plantation. He
therefore left the management of his concerns in merchandise to
his friends and partners. And the Virginia courts after this were
kept at the house of Mr. Ferrar the father : who from his singu-
lar affection for that honourable company, himself being one of
the first adventurers of that plantation and the Somers Islands 9,
allowed them the use of his great hall, and other best rooms of
his house to hold their weekly and daily meetings. Many other
things both of public and private concernment, now on foot,
seemed equally to call for the presence and assistance of Mr. N.
Ferrar. For (not to speak of public matters) to all human
appearance, without his advice, diligence, and great wisdom in
managing the private affairs of his family at this critical juncture,
there had been great danger not only of much loss in many
particulars, but even of the overthrow and ruin of his elder
brother.

Immediately after his arrival at Dover Mr. Ferrar rode post to
London ; and finding the door of his fathers house open, he en-
tered with his rich rapier at his side, arrayed only in his cassock
and doublet, and just in the manner as he had travelled from
Madrid to St. Sebastian's.

The meeting between the worthy parents and their beloved son,
whom they had not seen for five years, and whom they had ex-
pected never to have seen again, was mutually affectionate and

9 Somers Islands.'] The Bermudas, called also the Somers Islands, in honour
of sir George Somers, one of the Virginia Company, to whom they belonged.
The family name was corrupted by ignorant chartographers into Summer
Islands, a blunder which the French have made tenfold more absurd by call-
ing them the Isles de VEtt.

154 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

endearing in the highest degree, and may more easily be imagined
than described. This his unexpected and much wished for return
was in the year 1618; he himself being then twenty-six, his
father seventy-two, and his mother sixty-two years of age.

He soon shewed himself upon the Exchange, and in person re-
turned his thanks to those merchants by whose factors he had
received his remittances, and many local civilities. He was now
much noticed both for the beauty of his person, and for his
many eminent qualities: and all his friends soon found that the
accounts they had received of his worth and wisdom from abroad
had not been exaggerated, but that his virtues and his accom-
plishments surpassed all report and all expectation.

In his travels through Holland, Germany, Italy, and Spain,
Mr. Ferrar purchased many rare articles of curiosity, many
scarce and valuable books, and learned treatises in the languages
of those different countries. In collecting which he certainly had
a principal eye to those which treated the subjects of a spiritual
life, devotion, and religious retirement. He bought also a very
great number of prints engraved by the best masters of that
time ; all relative to historical passages of the Old and New Tes-
tament. Indeed he let nothing of this sort that was valuable
escape him. And this great treasure of rarities, books, and
prints, upon his return home, he had the satisfaction to find were
safely arrived there before him.

Very little indeed of this treasure is now remaining. The
Ferrar family being firm in their loyalty to the king, their house
at Gidding was plundered in the civil wars ; and in a wanton de-
vastation, all these things perished, except some of the prints, not
of great value, still in possession of the editor.

It now comes in the order of time to speak of the great hand
which Mr. N. Ferrar had, immediately after his return, in the
management of the affairs of the Virginia company; in which.
by his prudent conduct, he got through many and great diffi-
culties with high credit and reputation. From this relation it
will appear what great power Gondomar f the Spanish ambassador
thru had in England; and how by his extraordinary craft and

1 Gondomar.] Don Diego Sarmiento de Acuna, Conde de Gondomar. It

is needless to say here any thing of his great influence over James. \\ I

have seen (p. 83) that during all the course of Elizabeth's reign, she would

hold no dip'.HiMtir , with Spain. Elizabeth and Philip held each

id's point.

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 155

various intrigues he in the end wrought upon a weak prince to
suppress one of the most flourishing companies for commerce in
England. And it may possibly give the reader some satisfaction
to see some of his subtle proceedings here unravelled ; as this
affair is hardly touched by any other author 2.

Soon after Mr. Ferrar's return, sir Edwyn Sandys, who had
heard a high character of him from many who had known him in
Italy, sought his acquaintance ; and being exceedingly taken with
his great abilities, took the first opportunity to make him known
to the earl of Southampton, and the other principal members of
the Virginia company. In a very little time he was made one of
a particular committee in some business of great importance ;
whereby the company having sufficient proof of his extraordinary
abilities, at the next general court it was proposed and agreed
that he should be king^s counsel 3 for the Virginia plantation in
the place of his brother John, who was then made the deputy
governor. And when his name, according to custom, was entered
in the lord chamberlain's book, sir Edwyn Sandys took care to
acquaint that lord with his uncommon worth ; which indeed daily
more and more appeared in every thing he undertook : and as he
wanted no ability, so he spared no diligence in ordering all their
affairs of consequence. And thus he became deeply engaged in
cares of a public nature. Yet his own inclinations at his return
led him rather to think of settling himself again at Cambridge,
to which he was the more induced, as he still held the physic
fellowship in Clare Hall. But this he now saw could not be done.
Besides, his parents, now grown old, requested their beloved son
to remain with them. Therefore all he could obtain in this re-
spect from them, and from his business, was the liberty now and
then to pass a few days with his old acquaintance and friends still
remaining in Cambridge.

At this time, J619, Mr. Henry Briggs, the celebrated mathe-
matician and reader of Geometry at Gresham college, and one of
the Virginia company, being about to leave London, and settle at

2 By any other author.'] [This was said about the year 1654.]

3 King's counsel.'] It is very probable that, in this capacity, Nicholas Ferrar
had more than a share in drawing up the following work, which is very rare,
but of which a copy is preserved in the British Museum. " A Declaration
of the State of the Colony and Affaires in Virginia, with the Names of the Ad-
venturers and Summes adventured in that Action. By His Maiesties Counseil
for Virginia, 22 Junii, 1620." 4to.

156 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

Oxford as Savilian professor there, recommended it to the Mer-
cers' company, who had the gift of that professorship, that they
should by all means offer the place to Mr. Ferrar upon his own
terms, saying, that he was the ablest proficient he knew in that
science. The offer was made accordingly, which he modestly
declined, saying his friend Mr. Briggs was much mistaken in him,
and that his affection and goodness to him had misled his judg-
ment. He therefore prayed them to appoint some more worthy
person ; but that for himself though he declined the intended
honour, he would always be ready to serve the city of London,
and the magnificent foundation of sir Thomas Gresham, to the
utmost of his power.

While sir Edwyn Sandys continued governor, the reputation
of the Virginia company rose very high under his prudent ma-
nagement. But having now served his year, and being by the
general voice intended to have been elected again, by some secret
power at court, all the measures were broken that had been before
taken for that purpose.

It was appointed by the charter of the company that there
should be every year in Easter term a new election of a treasurer
or governor, and a deputy, and that no man should hold either of
those places more than three years. This election was now
intended to be made by ballot, a method introduced by sir Ed-
wyn Sandys, as most likely to secure a free election. A general
court day being appointed, and the day and hour of election being
come, there were assembled near upon twenty great peers of the
land ; near a hundred of the most eminent knights of the king-
dom ; of gallant gentlemen many colonels and captains, and
renowned lawyers near a hundred more ; and of the most worthy
citizens a very respectable assembly. So that the court consisted
of near five hundred persons of several ranks, and quality.
Every thing being prepared, the three persons who were to be
candidates for the place of governor were now to be named by tin-
company. The three persons being agreed upon, the name of
sir Kdwyn Sandys was first set up, and as this was doing, a lord
of the bed-chamber and another courtier stood up, and declared
to the court that it was the king's pleasure not to have sir Edwyn
lys chosen ; and because he would not infringe their right of
election, he would nominate three persons, and permit the com-
pany to choose one of them.

At this unexpected message there was for a considerable time

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 157

a deep silence, every man present standing in amazement at this
violent invasion of their rights, this breach of their charter, and
stretch of tyrannic power. At length some at the lower end of
the hall stood up, and prayed that the courtiers having delivered
their message, and consequently having nothing more to say,
might withdraw, till the company had resolved what to do.

The earl of Southampton (Henry Wriothesley) then stood up
and said, " For my part, gentlemen, I like not this motion : let
the noble gentlemen if they please keep their places, and sit and
hear the opinions of the company, that so they may be both ear
and eye witnesses of our actions, and words, and may themselves
by these means truly inform his majesty of our fair and justifia-
ble way of proceeding in this weighty business : a business of the
highest concernment both in respect of his majesty, and in respect
of the company. In respect of his majesty, whom we know to
be so just a king, that he may understand what privileges he hath
granted us by his letters patent, under the great seal of England :
on the credit and authority of which letters, we have advanced
and adventured one hundred thousand pounds of our own estates :
and in respect of the company, who have gained so hopeful a
country, which they have bought, and compounded for with the
natives, and which when once well peopled by English colonies,
will find full employment for all needy people in this land, who
now begin to swarm in this blessed time of peace under his ma-
jesty's happy reign ; will provide estates likewise for all the
younger brothers, gentlemen of this kingdom ; and also a ready
and lasting supply to this nation of those commodities which in
our present condition we are fain to fetch from foreign nations,
from doubtful friends, yea from heathen princes. These circum-
stances, I say, fairly considered, make this a business of so great
concernment, that it can never be too solemnly, too thoroughly,
or too publicly examined."

Lord Southampton having thus spoken sat down, and after
some silence sir Laurence Hyde, the learned lawyer, next rose
up and said, " May it please this honourable society, I for my
part not only agree to that motion now made by the noble earl
who spoke last, but also desire the company not only to permit,
but even to intreat these worthy messengers of the king to stay
in our court, and I will be thus farther bold to break the ice,
and to give you my opinion that the first step we ought to take
in this serious business now in hand should be to cause the

158 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

patent, as the foundation of all our proceedings, to be here imme-
diately produced, and read, before this honourable assembly, and
these worthy gentlemen the king's messengers. And then both
we and they shall all soon be satisfied in the extent of our pri-
vileges, and in the strength of his majesty's grant, which he hath
made to us under the great seal of England, and under the hand
and honour of a king."

Thereupon, all instantly cried out, uThe patent ! The patent !
God save the king." The patent was then openly and distinctly
read by the secretary.

After which sir Laurence Hyde stood up again and said,
"Gentlemen, I pray you all to observe well the words of the
patent in the point of electing a governor. You see it is thereby
left to your own free choice. This I take it is so very plain and
evident that we shall not need to say any thing more to it. And
no doubt these gentlemen, when we shall have done our duty,
and they depart, will give his majesty a just information of tin-
case, and undeceive him in the unjust misrepresentations which
have been given him in this point."

The rest of the many lawyers who were there concurred in
opinion with sir Laurence Hyde, and the court voted that they
should now immediately proceed to election. When a friend of
sir Edwyn Sandys, sir Robert Phillips, who sat behind him, and
to whom sir Edwyn had whispered, stood up and craved of them
before they proceeded, to hear him a word, or two, and then said.

u I shall consent that we go to an election out of hand, because
it is the business of the day, and if we do it not now, we may
thereby in my opinion forfeit our patent; and also that we in.iv
liy so doing shew our duty to the king, in order to satisfy him in
all that we may : which, as I am instructed by this worthy gen-
tleman your late governor, may be done, if you will out of your
own judgments, at present forbear to set up his name (whom I
perceive you all think and know most worthy to be continued in
that office) and put up two or three names of the persons reomn-
niendrd l.y his majesty. And let these managers tlicm>« l\c>. if
they think fit, nominate which two they please. And in order in
some degree to preserve your own privileges, do you then name a
third person. And then let all these three names be set upon
thr balloting box, and so go to the election in (Jod's nann-. and
li-t hi-, \\ill In- don.-."

Thriviipon with a <n-n<-ral acclamation, not one WMC6 a-^ain-t

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 159

it, the whole court cried out " Southampton ! Southampton !"
At which my lord of Southampton rose up to speak. But they
again cried out, "The time is almost past, we most humbly
beseech your lordship not to interrupt our proceedings."

The king's messengers then said, they must confess that the
company proceeded wisely ; and that if they had the nomination
of two out of three, as sir Robert Phillips proposed, they doubted
not but his majesty would be satisfied. For as sir Edwyn Sandys
had wisely waved his interest, if the king desired no more than
that he might not be chosen, the course proposed to be taken
was likely to please him. And so they proceeded to the ballot ;
when of the two persons nominated by the king's messengers, one
of them had only one ball, and the other but two. The earl of
Southampton had all the rest. Lord Southampton then took
the chair, and they proceeded to the choice of a deputy, when Mr.
John Ferrar was chosen by the same majority ; of that large
company, consisting of near five hundred persons, only three
dissenting. And thus began the year 1620.

The earl of Southampton, now elected governor of the Virginia
company, had a particular friendship with sir Edwyn Sandys, and
took this office conditionally that his friend should continue his
advice and assistance in the business of the company. So that
there were now three very able men engaged, lord Southampton,
sir Edwyn Sandys, and Mr. Nicholas Ferrar. Lord Southampton
celebrated for wisdom, eloquence, and sweet deportment ; sir
Edwyn Sandys for great knowledge, and integrity ; and Nicholas
Ferrar for wonderful abilities, unwearied diligence, and the
strictest virtue.

The latter was now fully employed in drawing up instructions
concerning all the various business respecting the plantation, in
writing all letters of advice to the colony in Virginia, and in
being constantly one in every committee. Which instructions
and letters being always read in the open courts, gained him
universal approbation. The civilians, the common lawyers, the
divines, (of which last dean Williams, afterwards bishop of Lin-
coln4, was one) who attended these courts, when acquainted with
Mr. Ferrar's performances, all spoke of him in highest terms of
commendation. The merchants and tradesmen, when he had

4 Bishop of Lincoln^] John Williams, afterwards lord keeper and archbishop
of York, of whom see more in the Life of Bishop Hall.

160 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

occasion to speak of their matters, even the sea officers, and
mariners, when he gave directions about the victualling and order-
ing the ships or other naval affairs, all were in the highest admi-
ration of his abilities and accurate knowledge of every thing
relating to their respective professions. And now under the
management and direction of lord Southampton, sir Edwyn
Sandys, and Mr. Nicholas Ferrar, the affairs of the Virginia plan-
tation were soon in the most flourishing situation.

At this time there was in London a Mr. Copeland, a minister
in the Somers Islands, who contracted a great intimacy with
Mr. Ferrar. He was a worthy man, and very zealous for the
conversion of the infidel natives of America. He had many con-
ferences with Mr. Ferrar upon this subject, and the best way and
means to effect it ; and he seriously informed sir E. Sandys and
others of the company, that he verily believed Mr. Ferrar was
determined some time to leave the whole world, and settle in
Virginia ; and there employ the extraordinary talents with which
God had blessed him, and spend his life in the conversion of the
natives, or other infidels in that country : adding, " If he should
do so, I will never forsake him, but wait upon him in that glorious
work." This I think is a strong presumptive proof, that notwith-
standing Mr. Ferraris great abilities in different occupations, and
his wonderful proficiency in various acquisitions of science, and
other accomplishments, yet that the peculiar bent, and deter-
mination of his mind was uniformly given to the promotion of the
Christian religion.

At this time (April, 1620) died Mr. Ferrar the father, who
made his son Nicholas his sole executor ; which was a great addi-
tion to the business already lying upon him : but he had abilities
equal to any thing, and to every thing ; with firmness of mind and
integrity equal to his ability. Mr. Ferrar sen. by his will gave
300J. towards erecting a school or college in Virginia for the
better education of such infidel children as should be there con-
verted to the Christian religion. He was buried in the church of
I Jennet Sherhog, April 11, and his old friend Dr. Francis
White, whom he brought from the obscurity of the country into
a more public life, preached his funeral sermon to a crouded
audience; in which he described him as a second Nathaniel.—
"an Israelite indeed, in whom was no guile."

Tin- Virginia plantation, now under the government of the earl
• •1* Southampton, became every day oHi^ier reputation, and tin-

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 161

affairs of the company in consequence every day of more weighty
importance. So that Mr. Ferrar, both as counsel 5 to the com-
pany, and assistant also to his brother as deputy governor, was
pressed by a double weight of care : as the company would not
permit the deputy to resign till he had executed his office three
years; which he did 1619, under sir Edwyn Sandys, and 1620,
1621, under the earl of Southampton.

But now the increasing fame of this company, and the wise
management of it was carried into Spain, and caused no small
alarm. The politicians there saw, or pretended to see danger in
the course of not many years. Virginia was too near them, both
by sea and land : and they did not know but the people of that
plantation, when once a little settled, might perhaps be looking
over the hills, and at length spy out their rich mines. Gondomar
therefore had it in commission to have a special eye upon the
company, and the managers of their affairs. And he was indeed
a vigilant observer of his instructions. He not only gained an
absolute influence over the king, but many great men about him,
whom he had bought with Spanish money : these were very
powerful, and well known at court by the name of the Spanish
party.

Gondomar and the king had now agreed upon the destruction
of the Virginia company. Notice of their dishonourable designs
was given to lord Southampton and sir Edwyn Sandys, by the
marquis of Hamilton and the earl of Pembroke ; who privately
warned them to look well to themselves, and their proceedings,
for that many stratagems were now in train, and would be pushed
to the utmost to procure the destruction of the plantation, and to
ruin all persons who should be employed in supporting the affairs
of the company.

This opportune advice produced a double care and watchfulness
in the managers, if possible, to prevent the intended mischief.
But it would be endless here to relate the many discouragements,
the dark intrigues, and shameful practices which they now daily
met and encountered. These things require another time and
place. All that need here be said is that the Virginia business
was now no pastime, nor were the managers in any respect per-
mitted to be idle.

In the Easter term, 1622, Mr. John Ferrar, having been con-

6 As counsel.'] See p. 155, note.

VOL. IV. M

162 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

tinued deputy governor three years, Nicholas Ferrar was elected
to succeed him. For lord Southampton plainly told the deputa-
tion from the company, who waited on him to desire he would
consent to be re-elected, that if they did not choose Mr. Nicholas
Ferrar to be the deputy governor, he could not any longer take
the office of governor upon him ; saying that he was the only
person who was able to go through with the business; and to
encounter all those great and potent oppositions, which he knew
either were, or very soon would be raised against the company
and the plantation : and that without Mr. Ferraris assistance all
would fall to ruin. " You all," he continued, " see, and know his
abilities and his integrity as well as I. On condition of his being
deputy, I will be your governor: but he must be the person who
must act both mine and his own part also. Without him I dare
not accept the office : with him, I will do all I can to serve you."

These things being thus settled, the meetings at Mr. Ferrari
house began again to be crouded, as usual; and Gondomar
exerted double diligence, procuring, by Spanish gold, spies, who
informed him of every thing that was done at these meetings ;
and, what added greatly to his influence, the Spanish party at
court carried every thing with a high hand.

Many shameful stratagems were now attempted against the
company, to throw their affairs into confusion, and to dishearten
them on all sides. Particularly their privilege in point of cus-
toms (which was to pay only 5 per cent.) was now questioned,
and 15 per cent, demanded. One Jacobs also, who had procured
a licence for importing Spanish tobacco, was now employed and
supported by the great men in the pay of Gondomar to infriiiLrr
the company's patent : which encreased Mr. Ferraris trouble to
a great degree, and made it necessary for him to resort frequently
to the council table, and to sir Tho. Coventry the king^s attorney
general.

The hardship and the injustice put upon the company in this
last article only was very great, as the profit arising from Virginia
tobacco, was as yet the only return which the planters had to
answer all their trouble, expence, and hazard. For little progress
had l>«'< -n mado in the several plans of improvement, as the conse-
quencM s <>!' tin- fir>t massacre* by the savages, were not yet fully
recov<

• Thffirtt matsacre.] [That massacre was perpetrated on Friday, March 22,
1621, at which time the iavages killed 347 persons. There were then mur-

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 163

By Mr. Ferrar's care and industry things seemed, notwith-
standing this violence and injustice, to be getting again in a fair
way towards a lasting settlement. But alas ! the Spanish match7
for the prince was now set on foot, and Gondomar took advantage
of that opportunity to exert his absolute power over the king ;
who meanly suffered himself, in violation of his patent, and the
honour of a king, to be made this crafty minister's instrument to
effect the ruin of the company.

The marquis of Hamilton and the earl of Pembroke solemnly
affirmed to the earl of Southampton, that they heard Gondomar
say to the king, " That it was time for him to look to the
Virginia courts which were kept at the Ferrars1 house, where too
many of his nobility and gentry resorted to accompany the
popular lord Southampton, and the dangerous Sandys. That
though they might have a fair pretence for their meetings, yet he
would find in the end that court would prove a seminary for a
seditious parliament. That they were deep politicians, and had
farther designs than a tobacco plantation. That their proceed-
ings in the issue might cause, if not timely prevented, occasions
of difference between his majesty, and his master the king of
Spain. For he had heard rumours, that once being become
numerous, they intended to step beyond their limits; and for
aught he knew, they might visit his masters mines. Adding,
that he had occasion of late to have a conference with the
managers concerning a ship laden with silver, which was cast
away ; and that he found them subtle men, men of high courage,

dered at Mr. William Ferrar's house these ten persons : Mr. John England,
and John his servant; John Bell, Henry Paterson, and Alice his wife, and
William her son ; Thomas their servant, James Woodshaw, and Mary and
Elizabeth, maid-servants. — Declaration of the present State of Virginia.
London, 1622. 4to. p. 14—37.]

7 Spanish match.'] The infanta Dona Maria had been offered to prince
Charles, by the Spanish minister, the duke of Lerma, in the lifetime of her
father, Philip III., and his views were seconded by Gondomar, the Spanish,
and by Digby, the English ambassador. On the death of Philip, in 1622,
James and Charles wrote to Philip IV. and to the Conde Duque de Olivares,
his favourite; Digby, created earl of Bristol, went to accelerate the negociation;
Gondomar returned to Spain for the same purpose, and a favourable answer
was returned from Philip, who agreed to the marriage of his sister, and pro-
mised to intercede in behalf of Frederic, the elector palatine, the son-in-law
of James. In February, 1623, Charles and Buckingham, attended only by
sir Francis Cottington, Endimion Porter, and sir Richard Graham, proceeded
on their apparently clandestine and pseudo-romantic expedition to Madrid.

M 2

164 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

men who no way regarded either his master or their own."
These lords therefore advised lord Southampton to be upon his
guard ; and hade him and his deputy prepare for the rencounter ;
for that it would certainly come to the push of pike ; and that
they feared, as matters now stood, the company would be dis-
solved, and under some pretence or other their patent taken
away. The creatures of Gondomar also insinuated to the king,
that the matter was too high and great for private men to
manage: that it was therefore proper for the king to take it
into his own hand, and to govern and order it both at home and
abroad according to his own will and pleasure.

After a short time a commission was granted by the king to
some known enemies to the company to disturb and teaze them
by vexatious examinations. And one captain Butler, whom the
company had removed from his office for scandalous mismanage-
ment and injustice, was suborned, and made an instrument to
spread disadvantageous reports of the country itself, as being
unfit to be planted, as being extremely unhealthy, and entirely
unproductive.

Before these commissioners Mr. Ferrar often appeared in
defence of the company, and exerted himself with such firmness
and force of argument, not only face to face to the accusers, but
by such unanswerable deductions in writing, that the commis-
sioners were not able to proceed: all their allegations being
demonstrated by him to be false and frivolous. The matter
therefore was brought from them before the council table. And
then Mr. Ferrar, and the company were forced to attend there
twice or thrice a week for half a year together, in order to weary
them out by a vexatious persecution. But notwithstanding all
these infamous machinations, nothing could be taken hold of to
wrest the patent from the company. They were often indeed
required to lay it down ; but this they refused to do.

At this time, though there were many able men of the company
ready to defend their just cause, yet the lords of the council
insisted that the deputy, being, as they said, the representative
of tin- company, should be the only person to answer their objec-
tions. And this they did on seeing him so young a man, thinking
from that circumstance to gain some advantage over him. But
he answered them all with that singular wisdom and modesty,
that accurate knowledge of affairs, that discretion, firmness and
<-l«M|uciic.-. that the mercenaries of Gondomar were confounded;

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 165

and then by a new and unexpected artifice, and in pretended
admiration of his great abilities, said it was pity but that he
should be taken off from his present business, and employed in
public affairs of more weighty importance.

Accordingly overtures were made, and a negociation entered
upon with lord Southampton and sir Edwyn Sandys, to prevail
with them to persuade Mr. Ferrar to accept the place of clerk
of the council, or (leiger) 8 envoy to the duke of Savoy, which
of the two employments he himself liked best. He modestly
declined the offer, saying his abilities were not sufficient for a
post of such weighty importance. His friends continued to press
him, and he to refuse. At length he told them that he could not
accept of such preferment ; that his thoughts lay quite another
way. But seeing their importunity continue, he in confidence
to his two great friends, and on their promise of secrecy, declared
to them his solemn determination, when he should have discharged
the duties of his present situation, to enter upon a state of religious
retirement.

The council finding that the company were still resolved not
to part with their patent, or with the liberty which they thereby
had to govern their own affairs, now took a more severe and not
less unjust course. They confined lord Southampton to his
house, that he might not come to the Virginia courts, of which
he was the legal governor. But this only made the company
more resolute in their own just defence. They then ordered
sir Edwin Sandys into a similar confinement. But this step in
no degree abated the resolution of the company. Then the lords,
under the influence of Gondomar, strongly pressed the company
to give up their patent. The marquis of Hamilton and the earl
of Pembroke informed lord Southampton and sir Edwyn Sandys
of these proceedings, saying, That Nicholas Ferrar, though now
left as it were alone, was too hard for all his opposers. " But,"
continued they, " your enemies will prevail at last ; for let the
company do what they can, in open defiance of honour, and
justice, it is absolutely determined at all events to take away your
patent."

But Gondomar and his instruments, finding that their violent
measures had not the desired effect upon the company, now
vehemently urged the king to take the plantation into his own

8 Leiger envoy.'] See p. 90, note.

166 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

hands, as a thing befitting a king : and particularly as being a
measure that would be most acceptable to the king of Spain.

Still however the same unjust persecution of the company was
carried on ; and Mr. Ferrar still remained unanswerable in his
defence. When one day the lord treasurer Cranfield 9 in great
heat of passion told him, " that he could prevail with the company
if he would, and they might then obtain all that they desired."

Nicholas Ferrar then being called to the upper end of the
council table, addressed himself with all humility to the lords,
and to lord Cranfield in particular, "beseeching them in the
most earnest manner not to entertain so vain an imagination.
That there were many members of the company much better
qualified than he was to speak upon their affairs. Nevertheless,
that he humbly entreated their lordships to consider seriously
whether, if such a number of the Virginia company as made a
court, or whether, if all those members who lived in or near
London should meet and assemble together, whether even all
these could either in law or equity give up the patent, without
the previous consent of all the rest of the members, to the
number of some thousands now dispersed all over England. And
these too not persons of inferior rank, but persons of the first
condition, of the nobility, and gentry, of the bishops, and clergy,
of the chief citizens, and of the principal companies, and corpora-
tions throughout the whole kingdom. Besides these, all the
planters also in Virginia, who were all included in the grant, and
who all upon the encouragement, and promised protection of the
king, under the great seal of England, and the pledge of his royal
word and honour, adventured their estates, and many of them
even their lives in this the greatest and most honourable under-
taking in which England had ever been engaged. He represented
also the great good which in numberless sources of wealth and
strength, would by means of this corporation, and through the
encouragement of their care, by the blessing of God, shortly
accrue to this nation. And he again and again most earnestly
besought their lordships to take all these things into their most

9 Cranfield.'] Lionel Cranfield, afterwards earl of Middlesex. It is worthy
of remark that his daughter and heiress, Frances, married Richard, sixth earl
• if 1 >orset, the son of that Edward Sackville to whom, for safe custody, were
committed (see p. 179) the copies of the books and papers of the Virginia
Company which he (the lord treasurer Cranfield) laboured so sedulously to
destroy.

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 167

serious consideration; and no longer to urge them, not the
twentieth part of the persons interested, to do an action which
was in itself both unjust and unreasonable, and indeed impossible
for them to do. For how could they pretend to give away and
yield up the rights, and interests of other men, without the
consent of the parties interested first obtained. And in the
most solemn manner he adjured their lordships not to make them
the instruments of doing so vile a thing, to which, if they con-
sented, they should render themselves worthy of the severest
punishment. Besides, he said, it is worthy your lordships1 farther
consideration, how far such a precedent may possibly operate,
and how dangerous such an example may be, if only a twentieth
part of any company should presume, or should be permitted to
deliver up the liberties and privileges, the rights, and the pro-
perty of the other nineteen parts, and that without so much as
once calling them together to give their consent. This, he con-
tinued, was what the company now assembled must refuse as a
thing unjust, and not feasible for them to do."

The lord treasurer upon his discoursing thus, being inflamed
with violent passion, often interrupted him, and so did some
others. But the marquis of Hamilton, the earl of Pembroke,
and some other lords of the council said, " Nay, my good lords,
forbear. Let him make an end. We have called him hither to
know what he can say on the company's behalf. Let us there-
fore not interrupt him ; it is but reasonable to hear him out.
Mr. deputy, go on.""

Mr. Ferrar, with the most respectful humility then said,
" Most honourable lords, I was just on the point of concluding.
I will add only this, that as for my own private interest, and the
interest of many here present, and of many others who are absent,
my lords, we all most humbly cast ourselves, and our estates at
his majesty's royal feet : let him do with us and with them, if so
he be determined, what seemeth best unto his good will and plea-
sure. For as to what is really our own, and in us to give, we
submit it all to his majesty's disposal ; and in all other things we
shall endeavour to serve and please him in all that with a con-
science unhurt we may : desiring only this, that with respect to
the rights and property of others, we may be permitted to execute
the trust reposed in us, with fidelity and honour, and to discharge
religiously those duties, which, as they are of the first importance,
ought to have the first influence upon the mind of man.''1

168 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

Then the marquis of Hamilton stood up, and with a loud voice
said, " Mr. deputy, in my opinion, my lords, hath spoken well,
excellently well both for himself, and for the company. And
what, my lords, can we now desire more of him ?" The earl of
Pembroke seconded lord Hamilton, and said, " Surely, my lords,
1 hope the king (if he shall hear all) will be satisfied with what
we have done, but particularly with what we have now heard.
Let us fairly report it to him, and then let his majesty do what
he thinks most proper. We have sat a long time upon this busi-
ness, and at length we may conjecture the result."

Gondomar with his profligate instruments, the king, and the
Spanish party at court, perceiving that Mr. Ferrar (having de-
monstrated all their allegations to be false and groundless) had
rendered all their violence ineffectual, now had recourse to a
different mode of proceeding. They suborned, and procured per-
sons to bring forward a crimination against him ; who came and
exhibited in form a complaint to the council board. The sub-
stance of the accusation was this, That the deputy, during the
times of his appearing before the council, had drawn up and sent
to the governor and plantation of Virginia certain dangerous
instructions, and inflammatory letters of advice, directing them
how they should conduct themselves in standing to their patent,
and exhorting them that they should never give their consent to
let it be delivered up. And therefore that if these letters and
instructions were not countermanded by their lordships, some
very ill consequence might ensue, and the king might thereby
receive much dishonour.

As soon as this pretended complaint was lodged in form, in-
stantly, though it was then very late at night, some pursuivants,
who were kept in readiness for that purpose, were dispatched in
all haste to Mrs. Ferraris house to speak with the deputy, and to
command him without any delay immediately to deliver up to
them, all those books of the Virginia company wherein v
registered the copies of all such letters and instructions as had
been sent to the plantation from the council or company here.

Mr. Ferrar told them that the secretary of the Virginia cmn-
j , and not he, had the keeping of those books. They then
rerpiin <1 him to give them a note to the secretary to deliver them.
But he excused himself, saying, " Surely your commission will be
a better authority for him to do so, than any note which I can
send him. For my own part, if I had the company's evidences

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 169

in my possession, entrusted to my custody, I certainly would not
deliver them up, unless I had their leave, and express order so to
do." When he said this they left him, and went to the secretary,
and forced him to deliver up the books to them.

The next day the deputy, and many lords and gentlemen con-
cerned in the company, were summoned to attend at the council
table. For the accusers of the company had given it out pub-
licly, that now very strange things indeed would be discovered in
these books and instructions, and brought forth to public view.
On this account there was a very numerous attendance, and all
the lords of the council also were particularly summoned to
attend.

When the council was met, the deputy (as heretofore) was
commanded to come to the upper end of the table. Then the
accusers of the company desired of the lords that one of the
clerks of the council might read such and such letters and instruc-
tions written in such and such months. Some of which being-
read, the lords of the council looked upon one another with
evident marks of astonishment ; observing that there was nothing
of that dangerous consequence in those papers, which the accusers
had informed them they would discover ; but on the contrary
much matter of high commendation. " Point out," said one
lord, " where is the fault or error in these letters and instructions ;
for my own part I must say that I cannot see any."

The enemies of the company then prayed their lordships to
hear them all read out ; and then they said it would soon appear
where the faults lay. " Yea, yea," said the lord treasurer with
vehemence, " read on, read on : we shall anon find them." So
they still persisted to read. And in a word, so much patience
had the lords, or rather so much pleasure, that many of them
said they thought their time had been well spent. All these
letters and instructions being in the end thus read out, and no-
thing at all appearing which was any ways disadvantageous to the
company, but on the contrary very much to their credit and
honour : the marquis of Hamilton stood up, and said, " That
there was one letter which he prayed might be read over again,
on which he should desire to make a few observations." Which
being accordingly done, "Well!" said he, " my lords, we have
spent many hours here, in hearing all these letters and instruc-
tions, and yet I could not help requesting to hear this one letter
over again ; because I think that all your lordships must agree

170 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

with me that it is absolutely a master-piece. And indeed they
are all in high degree excellent. Truly, my lords, we have this
day lost no time at all. For I do assure you that if our attend-
ance here were for many days, I for my part would willingly n't
them out to hear so pious, so wise, and indeed politic instructions
as these are. They are papers as admirably well penned as any I
ever heard. And, I believe, if the truth were known, your lord-
ships are all of the same opinion.'1

The earl of Pembroke said, " There is not one thing in them
all, which, as far as I can see, deserves in the least degree to be
excepted against. On the contrary they all deserve the highest
commendation : containing advices far more excellent than I
could have expected to have met with in the letters of a trading
company. For they abound with soundness of good matter, and
profitable instruction with respect both to religion and policy ; and
they possess uncommon elegance of language." Many other lords
concurred in these commendations, and at length one, addressing
himself to Mr. Ferrar, said, u Mr. deputy, I pray you tell us
who penned these letters and instructions, we have some reason
to think it was yourself."

Mr. Ferrar, whose modesty and humility were not inferior to
his other rare accomplishments, replied, " My lord, these arc the
letters and instructions of the company, and the council of the
company. For in all weighty affairs they order several commit-
tees to make each a rough draught of what they judge proper to
be done in these matters : which rough draughts are afterward all
put together, and presented first to the council, and then to t lie-
company to receive all proper alteration, as they shall please.
And thus every thing is drawn up and concluded upon the advice
of many." After due commendation of his modesty as well as
his ability, it was replied to him, " Mr. deputy, that th« •>«•
papers before us are the production of one pen, is very plainly
discernible : they are jewels that all come out of one rich cabim-t.
of which we have undoubted reason to believe that you aiv the
true possessor."

The lords under the influence of Gondomar were now abashed
and silrnt ; only one of them said to the accusers of the company.
• What strange and unaccountable measures are these that you
have taken ! to have called us together, and to make us sit and
hear all these things uhich are entirely opposite to your O\MI
information-, and which meet, as you find, with universal appro-

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 171

bation." To which one man of a bold spirit replied, " We shall
still in the end carry our point. These, my good lord, are not the
letters and instructions which we meant. The company have
others no doubt in private, which they secrete, and which if they
could now be found, would quickly silence them. We have lately
heard of things passing in their courts which would surprize you."
On which one of the council rose and said, ;c My lords, such
malevolence and injustice is unequalled : such proceedings are not
to be endured. But unprincipled malice has a face too brazen to
be ashamed of any thing." The lords then rose, and the adver-
saries of the company were much confounded, having now with
all honest and impartial men entirely lost all credit.

The very night after this meeting, one of the clerks of the
council came to Lord Southampton and told him that his deputy
had that day gained a most complete victory, and had extorted
the highest commendations even from the lords of the adverse
party : and it was supposed that proposals would be made to him
to engage in the king's immediate service. u But for all that, my
lord," said he, " depend upon it, such the times are. your patent
is irretrievably gone."

Lord Southampton communicated this information to the lords
and gentlemen interested in the company, saying, " You all
well know that those things which our enemies thought would
have been to their advantage, and our damage, have hitherto all
turned out to our credit and to our honour : nevertheless, all will
not help us. It is determined that our patent shall be taken
away, and the company dissolved. The king, I find, has resolved
to have the management of the plantation in his own hands, to
direct, and govern as he sees best. A thing indeed worthy a
king's care : but, alas ! alas ! this is all but a colourable shew.
For you will find in the end that this worthy company will be
broken, and come to nothing. We must ah1 arm ourselves with
patience."

Mr. Ferrar had now gained the highest reputation with all
ranks of men for the uncommon abilities which he displayed on
every occasion, and the esteem for his great virtues was un-
bounded, but especially with those who were interested in the
affairs of the Virginia company. At this time a citizen of the
first class both for riches and reputation paid him a visit, and
after the warmest expressions of the highest opinion of his extra-
ordinary talents, and integrity, thus continued, "Mr. Ferrar.

172 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

I have an only daughter, who, if paternal affection doth not too
much influence my judgment, is both wise and comely : indeed it
is confessed by all that she is very beautiful. I know her to have
been virtuously educated, to be well accomplished, and to be of
an amiable disposition. If you will be pleased to accept of her as
your wife, I will immediately give you with her ten thousand
pounds." Mr. Ferrar was much surprised, returned his sincere
thanks, but said he was not worthy of so great a treasure. The
citizen however persisted, said he was really in earnest to bring
about the connection : that at present he only made his proposal
with intent to give him an opportunity to consider of it. After
a few days he came again, and asked Mr. Ferrar if he had
advised with his friends concerning his proposal, saying, " They
all know me well." Mr. Ferrar answered that he had not ; "for
you I perceive, sir, are greatly mistaken in me, first in having too
high an opinion of my abilities, and next with respect to my
estate, which you perhaps may conceive to be what it is not. I
think myself infinitely obliged to you for your good will towards
me, and for honouring me so far as to think, what I cannot
think of myself, that I am any way worthy of so inestimable a
treasure as your daughter." " Mr. Ferrar," he replied, " do not
talk thus to me : for I know you perfectly well ; and as for your
estate, I give myself no manner of concern about it. What for-
tune you have I demand not to know. Let it be what it will ; if
you have nothing, I thank God that I have enough to make you
and my daughter happy as to worldly matters. And as to my
own part, I shall think myself the happiest man upon earth to
have you my son-in-law, and my daughter must be equally happy
to have so accomplished, and so virtuous a man for her
husband."

By means of an intimate friend of the father, an interview was
brought about at this friend's house between the young lady and
Mr. Ferrar, where in a select company they passed several hours
together. The father then took a convenient opportunity to a-k
his daughter what she thought of Mr. Ferrar, to which >h<-
answered, " Nothing but good." " Can you then like him for a
hu>haml :" to which with equal ingenuousness and modesty she
replied. "Sir, I shall with pleasure do in this, as well as in all
other things, as you will please to have me : my duty and my
inclination \\ill <j;o together." Matters being so far advanced, the
tat her said to Mr. Ferrar, " Now, sir, you have seen my daugh-

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 173

ter, I hope her person and deportment are such as to merit your
approbation. As to your own estate, nothing is desired to be
known. Be that as it may ; I have enough ; I like you, and my
daughter submits herself to my choice. Now let me have your
answer." Mr. Ferrer replied, " The young lady your daughter,
sir, is in every respect not only unexceptionable, but highly to be
admired : she is beautiful, and accomplished, and amiable to the
greatest degree, and far superior to all that I can merit : indeed
I do not, I cannot deserve this great happiness. I return you
my sincerest thanks for your unequalled goodness to me ; and in
the confidence of friendship I will now acquaint you with the
private and fixed determination of my mind. If God will give
me grace to keep a resolution long since formed, I have deter-
mined to lead a single life ; and after having discharged, to the
best of my ability, my duty to the company, and to my family, as
to worldly concerns, I seriously purpose to devote myself to God,
and to go into a religious retirement." Thus ended this affair,
and the father ever after preserved the most affectionate friend-
ship for Mr. Ferrar.

After the unworthy part which the king, influenced by Gondo-
mar, had taken in the persecution of the Virginia company, the
deputy had now indeed a great encrease of trouble in managing
their concerns. But in truth and justice to his friends it must
be said, that lord Southampton, the earl of Dorset, the earl of
Devon, lord Paget, Sir Edwyn Sandys and many others, gave
him all the assistance in their power. But all to no purpose.
For the king, notwithstanding his royal word and honour 1

1 Word and honour."] " It must be admitted that Ferrar was not himself
unscathed in this political contest : his conscience was wounded both as
regarded his God and his king. In taking so active and conspicuous a part
in this transaction, he had opposed the wishes of James, who was known to
be unfriendly to the impeachment. He had yielded to the solicitations of the
directors and proprietors of the company, and in doing so, it seems that some
free speeches of his against the will of his prince, though exceedingly well
meant, and tending to the ends of public justice, were, nevertheless, a source
of long and deep regret to his loyal heart : so much so, that he was heard to
say, stretching out his right hand, * I would I were assured of the pardon
of that sin, though on the condition that this hand were cut off.' " — Brief
Memoirs of Nicholas Ferrar, M.A., chiefly collected from a narrative by the
right rev. Dr. Turner, formerly lord bishop of Ely, and now edited, with addi-
tions, by the Rev. T. M. Macdonough, vicar of Bovinadon, p. 73. 183/. I2mo.

I am inclined to conjecture, that the indignant expressions of a political

174 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

pledged to the contrary, notwithstanding the grant under the
great seal of England, notwithstanding all that should bind
the conscience, and direct the conduct of an honest man, was
now determined with all his force to make the last assault, and
give the death-blow to this as yet, prosperous, and thriving
company.

At this juncture a full testimonial came from the colony,
proving the healthiness of the climate, and the fruitfulness of
the country, against the slanderous informations of that captain
Butler, who had been suborned by Gondomar and his agents to
spread defamatory reports concerning a country of which he knew
nothing, having only been there in his flight from justice, and
having suddenly stolen away from thence to avoid being seized by
authority for his scandalous proceedings.

This testimonial being exhibited at the council board, the lords
in Gondomar's interest became enraged, and resolved upon the
last violence. They therefore now drew up a great number of
charges utterly false and slanderous, against both the company
and the colony, under the invention and direction of Gondomar,
and the lord treasurer Cranfield. These accusations were given
to the latter, and he now undertook either by consent to get, or
by force to wring the patent out of the hands of the company.

\Vith this view on the Thursday before Easter, 1623, a council
was called, and the deputy and others were sent for to attend.
Who being come, the lord treasurer presented those papers of
accusation to the lords, saying that they contained a charge
which the deputy and company must answer by the next Monday.
For that a longer time would not, and should not be allowed
them. Mr. Ferrar taking up the bulky bundle, said he thought
it impossible to assemble the company, and answer so many, and
such strange articles in so short a time as two days ; for Sunday
was not a day for business, and therefore he humbly besought
their lordships to allow him only a week, and he would desire no
more. Upon this the lord treasurer cried out in great wrath,
44 Not an hour longer than till Monday afternoon, and therefore
take up the papers and be gone."

These papers on examination were found to contain a huge
parcel of absolute falsehoods, which the enemies of the company

character, in the text, here and elsewhere, are to be attributed principally, not
to Mr. John Ferrar, but to the modem compiler. Dr. Peckard.

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 175

had invented, and drawn out to such an unreasonable length, that
by the shortness of the time allowed (which was preconcerted
with the lord treasurer) it was thought impossible that the agents
for the company should give in any answer ; that then Gondo-
rnar and his party would be triumphant, and able to boast that
the Virginia company either could not, or durst not answer their
accusation.

Mr. Ferrar however dividing the charge into three parts,
giving one to lord Cavendish, another to sir Edwyn Sandys, and
taking the third to himself, and employing six clerks very ready
with the pen to copy fair, continuing at the work without inter-
ruption, night and day, allowing but two hours for sleep, and
refreshment, did actually produce and lay before the council, a
complete answer at the time appointed. The lords were assem-
bled and making themselves merry with the expected embarrass-
ment of the Virginia company. But in a very short time their
merriment was converted into shame and confusion. A clerk was
ordered to read the answer. The reading took up full six hours.
When it was done, all was a considerable time deep silence and
astonishment. The adversaries of the company were all per-
plexed, and confounded, and in shame retired home. They had
however sufficient presence of mind to secrete and convey away
the answer they had required. It never appeared more, and the
company never heard what became of it.

The Spanish match being yet intended, and prosecuted, during
this negociation the king was the absolute slave of Gondomar, to
do without regard to honour or justice whatsoever he should ad-
vise to be done. In consequence of this infatuation, the deputy,
and thirty more of the directors, and principal persons of the
Virginia company were now served with a writ of Quo Warranto,
and commanded to show by what authority they pretended to
exercise a power over the plantation, and to send a governor
thither : and by this process the company now were obliged to
go to law to defend their right.

After many delays the cause came on to be pleaded. The
great plea which the king's attorney general (Coventry) brought
against them was, " That it was in general an unlimited, vast
patent. In particular, the main inconvenience was, that by the
words of the charter, the company had a power given them to
carry away, and transport to Virginia, as many of the king's
loving subjects as were desirous to go thither. And consequently,

176 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

he said, by exercising this liberty, they may in the end carry
away all the king's subjects into a foreign land ; and so leave his
majesty a kingdom here indeed, but no subjects in it. And if
this should be the case, what will then become of him, or of us ?
This is certainly a strange clause, and the patent wherein it is
contained ought to be forfeited."

This weighty argument extorted a smile even from the judges,
and the lawyers concerned to carry on the prosecution. Never-
theless, it was admitted : for the determination was made, previous
to entering upon the merits of the cause, what the decree should
be. The attorney-general then proceeded, and said he had found
a flaw in the company's answer, which if admitted, contained on
the one hand too much, and on the other too little ; and there-
fore, being such a nicety in law, he craved sentence upon it as
insufficient.

Sentence was thereupon given, u That the patent, or charter
of the company of English merchants trading to Virginia and
pretending to exercise a power and authority over his majesty's
good subjects there, should be thenceforth null and void."

The king was at the bottom of this whole proceeding, which
from beginning to end was a despotic violation of honour and of
justice.

The great reputation of Mr. Ferrar being now spread over all
parts of the country by the members of the late dissolved Virginia
company, he was in 1624, elected a member of parliament. As
this in a general consideration was highly proper on account of
his extensive abilities, and known integrity ; so was there a
peculiar propriety in his election at this time ; as there was an
intention now to call to account before the house of parliament,
those persons who had abused the king's ear, and had been
guilty of those violent enormities in the false accusation of the
managers of the Virginia company. For it was well known that
Mr. Ferrar was not only more accurately acquainted with all the
circumstances of that affair than any other person, but had also
abilities and firmness sufficient to carry on the prosecution in a
proper manner.

The prince being now returned from Spain in great discontent.
the Spanish party at court began in some degree to lose their
influence. The parliament met. Mr. Ferrar was appointed one
of several committees: sir Edwyn Sandys, and many other
members of the lat«- Virginia company were also in this j.arlia-

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 177

ment. A charge was brought in against the lord treasurer, the
earl of Middlesex, for taking bribes, and divers other exorbi-
tancies committed in the execution of his office ; and also for his
conduct in the Virginia affair, and his violence in taking away
the patent, and dissolving the company.

On this occasion the house appointed the lord William Caven-
dish, sir Edwyn Sandys, and Nicholas Ferrar to draw up the
charge against him and those others, who had been his instru-
ments in that scandalous proceeding. The charge was soon
drawn up, as Mr. Ferrar had all the necessary materials ready in
his hands. The accusation was opened by him in a speech which
lasted two hours, and which gained him universal admiration.
For now he was fully and publicly seen in this exertion of his
great abilities. The lord treasurer was deprived of his office,
and punished by a large fine, and imprisonment.

The iniquity of the Virginia business being fully proved, and
laid before the public, by Mr. Ferrar, and the other managers,
the house resolved to take the whole affair into their serious
consideration, and endeavour to restore the company. But
before they could make any progress they received a message
from the king, " That he both already had, and would also here-
after take the affair of the said late Virginia company into his
own most serious consideration and care : and that by the next
parliament they should all see he would make it one of his master
pieces, as it well deserved to be." And thus was all farther pro-
ceeding in that matter dishonourably stayed. For, as the event
shewed, all these were nothing but fair words without any other
intention than to stop the business. No care was taken of the
plantation, but all was left to go to ruin. The violence and
injustice, and other miseries consequent upon this falsehood, and
repeated breach of honour in the king would supply a large
story : but for divers reasons they are not proper to be here
inserted.

When Mr. Ferrar was first elected deputy governor of the
company, and by his office became accurately acquainted with all
their circumstances, he was soon convinced of the unbounded
influence of Gondomar, of the king^s astonishing infatuation, and
of his total disregard of truth and justice. Such a king as James
was the properest instrument that could be found for such a
workman as Gondomar ; and Mr. Ferrar plainly saw the malice of
the one, and the folly of the other ; and like a wise man provided

VOL. iv. N

178 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

all in his power against future contingencies. He saw that
Gondomar by means of the king would probably ruin the com-
pany ; and that if they should carry this point, they most likely
would cause all the court books, registers, instructions, and all
other writings of the company to be taken away from their
officers: that if opportunity should afterward be offered, they
might never be able to make use of them either for their own
justification, or in refutation of the false accusations of their
enemies. He did not therefore depend upon the present pro-
mising appearance of their affairs : he knew that malice was at
work ; and he had frequently seen a temporary calm precede the
most destructive storm.

Being under apprehensions of this sort, about a year before
the dissolution of the company, he procured an expert clerk
fairly to copy out all the court books, and all other writings
belonging to them, and caused them all to be carefully collated
with the originals, and afterwards attested upon oath by the
examiners to be true copies. The transcribing of which cost
him out of his own pocket above 50£, but this he thought one of
the best services he could do the company.

When the lords of the council therefore (as before related)
seized the originals, Mr. Ferrar had all these attested copies,
as yet unknown to any of the company, safe in his possession.
But now when the lord treasurer had procured sentence in form
against the company, and all their muniments had been taken
from them, Mr. Ferrar informed sir Edwyn Sandys, and -
other of his most intimate friends, what a treasure he had yet
remaining in his hands ; and desired their opinion how ho might
best dispose of them. On hearing this they were equally .sur-
prised and overjoyed, and unanimously desired him to carry them
to their late worthy governor the carl of Southampton. He did
so, and farther told his lordship, that he now left them entirely
to his lordship's care and disposal : that if hereafter there should
be opportunity, he might make use of them in justification of
his own, and the late company's most honourable and upright
proceedings.

Tin- earl of Southampton cordially embracing Mr. Ferrar, said
to him, u You still more and more engage me to love and honour
you. I accept of this your present as of a rich treasure. For
these are evidences that concern my honour. I shall value them
therefore even more than the evidences that mix-em m\ lands ;

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 179

inasmuch as my honour and reputation are to me of more estima-
tion than wealth or life itself. They are also the testimonials of
all our upright dealings in the business of the late company
and the plantation. I cannot therefore express how highly I
think myself obliged to you for this instance of your care and
foresight."

Soon after this interview, lord Southampton was advised not
to keep these books in his own house, lest search should be made
there for them ; but rather to place them in the hands, and
entrust them to the care of some particular friend. Which ad-
vice, as the times then stood, he thought proper to follow. He
therefore delivered them into the custody of sir R. Killegrew,
who kept them safely till he died. He left and recommended
them to the care of sir Edward Sackville, late earl of Dorset, who
died in May, 1652 : and it is hoped that this noble family still
hath them in safe keeping 2.

Mr. Ferrar having seen the dissolution of the Virginia com-
pany3, and no hope left of its revival, took his leave of the Virginia
affairs by now paying the 300£. left by his father for the purpose
of erecting a college there, to the governor and company of the
Somers Islands : binding them in articles to send for three Vir-
ginia children, and bring them up in those islands : and when of
fit age to put them out to some proper business : or else educate
them in learning, and then send them back to the place of
their birth, to convert their countrymen : and that when the
first three were thus disposed of, three other should from
time to time be sent for in succession for the same benevolent
purpose.

And thus ended Mr. Ferraris public life ; in which he displayed

2 In safe keeping.'] It is very probable that they are still in safe keeping at
Knowle, the ancestral residence of the Sackville family, now [1852] belonging
to the countess of Amherst, the heiress of the dukes of Dorset.

3 Dissolution of the Virginia company. ~\ Many facts relating to the history
of this company will be found in the following work : viz., "A Short Collection
of the most remarkable Passages from the Originall to the Dissolution of the
Virginia Company. London, 1651." 4to. It is written by Arthur Woodnoth,
and was given by him to his cousin, William Woodnoth, some years after
whose death it was published, with a dedication by "A. P." to "the Com-
pany of Adventurers for the Sommer, alias the Bermudas Islands." A. P.
calls Arthur Woodnoth, "a true friend and servant to sir John Danvers
(see p. 8) and the Parliament interest.'* The Woodnoths, it will be remem-
bered, were relations of the Ferrars. See p. 124.

N 2

180 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

many proofs of great and extensive abilities, and of uncommon
virtue, particularly of indefatigable diligence, industry, and ac-
tivity, by which he gained universal admiration, and performed
many important services, both to the Virginia company, and all
others with whom he was concerned.

The king having seized the patent and dissolved the Virginia
company, and Mr. Ferrar having seen the attested copies of all
the books and papers belonging to them delivered into safe cus-
tody in the Dorset family, he was now disengaged from public
cares, and determined to carry into execution the plan he had
long set his heart upon, to bid farewel to the busy world, and
spend the remainder of his days in religious retirement, and a
strict course of devotion.

Yet before he could complete his pious purpose it was necessary
for him finally to settle some matters of great consequence, though
of a private nature, which had been entrusted to his care. His
established reputation for inflexible integrity had influenced seve-
ral persons to prevail with him to undertake the executorship of
their wills, and the settlement of their worldly affairs : and in
some of these instances this trust concerned property of great
value, and was involved in circumstances of great difficulty.
Beside these occupations relative to the property of others, the
situation of his brother required his immediate and close atten-
tion. Mr. John Ferrar had been for three years deputy governor
of the Virginia company, and in order to give himself up wholly
to the discharge of that important trust, he had put into the
hands of his partners in mercantile business seven thousand
pounds, and assigned the management of those affairs over to
them. He also advanced six thousand pounds more to them, for
which he was engaged by a personal security. Whether it were
by mismanagement or misfortune does not at present appear, but
about this time the concerns of this partnership were fallen into
the greatest confusion, and involved in the utmost embarrass-
ment. Mr. N. Ferrar nevertheless by his great sagacity and
indefatigable industry, in a shorter time than could be believed,
extricated his brother from all his difficulties, and settled his
affairs in the most honourable manner at the loss of about three
thousand pounds.

His next care was to provide a place fitted for the purpose, and
corresponding with his iduas of religious retirement. His mother
had indeed a very large house in London, in which had been holden

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 181

the meetings of the Virginia company : she had also a consider-
able estate, and a large house in the town of Hertford. But nei-
ther of these places had his approbation, both being too much in
view of the public.

At length he was informed that the lordship of Little Gidding,
in the county of Huntingdon, was to be sold. He immediately
went thither to examine the place and premises, which he found,
with respect to privacy of situation, exactly suited to his wishes.
It was a parish that had been for some time depopulated. Nothing
was left but one extremely large mansion-house, going hastily to
decay, and a small church within thirty or forty paces of the
house, and at that time converted into a barn. Upon his return
to London he purchased the whole lordship, and this purchase
was made in the year 1624.

But now the plague having been some time in London, was in
the year 1 625 spread over most parts of the town, and was disco-
vered to be at the very next door to Mrs. Ferraris house. Mr.
N. Ferrar was therefore very urgent that she and the family
would immediately depart into the country ; but while she lin-
gered, being unwilling to leave him behind, he procured a coach,
and at length prevailed : and that very night, Whitsun-eve, she
with her son John, and the rest of the family, went to her house
at Hertford, and the following week to her daughter Collet's, at
Bourne-bridge, in Cambridgeshire.

Mr. N. Ferrar would have attended his mother, but that he
had not completely settled his brother's affairs. During this
business, Mr. J. Ferrar, leaving his mother at Bourne, went to
Gidding to make some necessary preparation there for the recep-
tion of the family, who were now become very unhappy at the
stay of Mr. N. Ferrar in London, as they had been informed that
the disorder was fatal every week to more than four thousand
persons. As soon as he had finished the business which required
his stay, he, with great joy and gratitude to God, repaired to
Gidding ; from whence he wrote to his mother, entreating her
not to come to him in less than a month, that it might appear
whether he had brought away any infection with him. But her
impatience to see him was so great, that three days after she rode
thither, and their meeting was such as might, at that time, be
expected between a pious parent and a dutiful son, to the highest
degree mutually affectionate ; in its circumstances indeed very
different from the modern meetings of parent and son : for he,

182 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

though twenty-seven years of age, who had been engaged in many
public concerns of great importance, had been a distinguished
member of parliament, and had conducted with effect the prose-
cution of the prime minister of the day, at first approaching his
mother, knelt upon the ground to ask and receive her blessing.
He then besought her to go into the house, rude as it was, and
repose herself. This she refused till she had given thanks to God
in the church, which was very near at hand. But she was exceed-
ingly grieved to find it filled with hay and instruments of hus-
bandry. Immediately all the workmen, many in number, em-
ployed in the repair of the house, were set to cleanse and repair
the church : for she said she would not suffer her eyes to sleep
nor her eyelids to slumber till she had purified the temple of the
Lord. In about a month's time, finding that all danger of
infection was over, she sent for her beloved daughter Collet, and
her husband, and all their numerous family, to come and live with
her at Oidding.

Mrs. Ferrar was now seventy-three years of age, yet was she
possessed of so much vigour, and had so much of the appearance
as well as the reality of health, that all who saw her concluded
her to be not more than forty. Her family now consisted of near
forty persons ; and it being a season of deep humiliation on
account of the mortality then become general all over the king-
dom, it was determined to address themselves to God, as often as
they conveniently could, according to the doctrine and discipline
by law established in the church of England. To this end, Mr.
N. Ferrar obtained permission of his old acquaintance bishop
Williams, to have the service performed in the church, which
was now put into decent repair ; and he procured the minister of
the adjoining parish to read the morning service every day at eight
o'clock, the litany at ten, and the evening service at four. On
the Sunday mornings the whole family went to Steeple (iiddin^,
and in the afternoon the minister of that parish and his parish-
ioners came to the church newly repaired by Mrs. Ferrar.

At Easter, 1626, the plague being then ceased, Mr. N. Ferrar
and his mother, and some others of the family, went to London,
tn dispose of their great house there, to settle their remaining
all'.iirs, and to take a final leave of all their friends. When they
had been some little time in London, he resolved, in order the
better to carry on hi.s religious plan by his own personal as
anre, to become a deacon. This resolution he commnnieated to

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 183

none but his honoured tutor, Dr. Lindsel, who highly applauded
it, and introduced him to Dr. Laud, then bishop of St. David's,
by whom he was ordained deacon on the Trinity Sunday
following.

On his return home he addressed himself to his mother, and
shewed her in a writing signed, a vow which he had made with
great solemnity ; That since God had so often heard his most
humble petitions, and delivered him out of many dangers ; and
in many desperate calamities had extended his mercy to him ; he
would therefore now give himself up continually to serve God to
the utmost of his power, in the office of a deacon : into which
office he had that very morning been regularly ordained. That
he had long ago seen enough of the manners and of the vanities
of the world ; and that he did hold them all in so low esteem,
that he was resolved to spend the remainder of his life in mortifi-
cations, in devotion, and charity, and in a constant preparation
for death.

There is reason to believe that even in his infancy, and before
he set out upon his travels, and after his great escape upon the
Alps, he did privately and solemnly devote himself to God ; and
that after his unexpected recovery from his dangerous illness both
at Padua and Marseilles he repeated these pious resolutions,
adding also a vow of perpetual celibacy. This, if true, may
account for his extraordinary continence (though in the full
prime and vigour of life) in refusing the offer of a young lady of
incomparable beauty and rare accomplishments, of the most
amiable disposition, and of an immense fortune ; who had also
ingenuously confessed that he had won her highest approbation
and esteem. Instances of such firmness of mind and self-denial
seldom occur.

The news of Mr. Ferrar being ordained was soon spread abroad
both in the city and at court, as in both he was universally known
and very highly esteemed. His constant friends the marquis of
Hamilton, lord Pembroke, and Sir Edwin Sandys took this oppor-
tunity of saying to him, That though he had formerly refused all
temporal emoluments, yet now he had taken orders they must
suppose that he had not any objection to spiritual preferment, and
immediately made him an offer of some ecclesiastical benefices of
great value. These he refused with steadiness and humility,
saying that he did not think himself worthy. He added also,
that his fixed determination was to rise no higher in the church

184 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

than the place and office which he now possessed, and which he
had undertaken only with the view to be legally authorised to
give spiritual assistance, according to his abilities, to his family
or others, with whom he might be concerned. That as to tem-
poral affairs, he had now parted with all his worldly estate, and
divided it amongst his family. That he earnestly besought his
honoured friends to accept his sincere thanks for their good opi-
nion of him, for whose prosperity, both in this world and a better,
he would never cease to pray. And now having finished all busi-
ness in London, and taken a solemn and final leave of all their
friends, he and his mother returned to Gidding.

It now comes in course to speak of the established economy
both of the house and the church ; and it is hoped that the reader
will here excuse a circumstantial relation : because on these very
circumstances, misapprehended, and misrepresented, were founded
all the calumnies and persecution which the family afterward
suffered.

Many workmen having been employed near two years, both
the house and church were in tolerable repair, yet with respect
to the church Mrs. Ferrar was not well satisfied. She therefore
new floored and wainscotted it throughout. She provided also
two new suits of furniture for the reading-desk, pulpit, and com-
munion-table : one for the week days, and the other for Sundays
and other festivals. The furniture for week days was of green
cloth, with suitable cushions and carpets. That for festivals was
of rich blue cloth, with cushions of the same, decorated with lace,
and fringe of silver. The pulpit was fixed on the north, and the
reading-desk over against it, on the south side of the church, and
both on the same level*: it being thought improper that a higher
place should be appointed for preaching than that which was
allotted for prayer. A new font was also provided, the leg, laver,
and cover all of brass, handsomely and expensively wrought and
carved ; with a large brass lectern, or pillar and eagle of brass
for the Bible. The font was placed by the pulpit, and the lectern
by the reading-desk.

The half-pace, or elevated floor, on which the communion-tal>le
stood at the end of the chancel, with the stalls on each side, was
covered with blue taffety, and cushions of the finest tapestry and
blue silk. The space behind the communion-table, under the east

4 On the same level.] See Walton's Life of Herbert, in this volume, p. 20.

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 185

window, was elegantly wainscotted, and adorned with the Ten
Commandments, the Lord's Prayer, and the Apostles' Creed,
engraved on four beautiful tablets of brass, gilt.

The communion-table itself was furnished with a silver patin,
a silver chalice, and silver candlesticks, with large wax candles in
them. Many other candles of the same sort were set up in every
part of the church, and on all the pillars of the stalls. And these
were not for the purposes of superstition, but for real use ; which
for great part of the year the fixed hours for prayer made neces-
sary both for morning and evening service. Mrs. Ferrar also
taking great delight in church music, built a gallery at the
bottom of the church for the organ. Thus was the church
decently furnished, and ever after kept elegantly neat and clean.

All matters preparatory to order and discipline being arranged
and settled, about the year 1631, Dr. Williams, the bishop of
Lincoln, came privately to Gidding, to pay a visit to his old friend
Mr. N. Ferrar, with whom he had contracted a friendship at the
Virginia board, and for whom he ever held the highest and most
affectionate esteem.

By this visit he had an opportunity to view the church, and
the house, and to examine into their way of serving God, which
had been much spoken against ; to know also the soundness of
the doctrine they maintained : to read the rules which Mr. N.
Ferrar had drawn up for watching, fasting, and praying, for
singing psalms and hymns, for their exercises in readings, and
repetitions ; for their distribution of alms, their care of the sick,
and wounded ; and all other regularities of their institution.
All which the bishop highly approved, and bade them in God's
name to proceed.

In 1633 Mrs. Ferrar came to a resolution5 to restore the

3 Came to a resolution.'] " Their heavenly-mindedness was best discovered
to their diocesan, when two sons of Mrs. Ferrar, the mother and matron of
the houshold, treated with the bishop, to endow the church with the tithes,
which had been impropriated : this was in September 1633, as appears by a
smack of that which fell from the pen of the donor, as followeth :

" * Right reverend father in God,

" ' The expectation of opportunities having some years wheeled
me off from the performance of this business, I now think it necessary to
break through all impediments, and humbly to present to your lordship the
desires and the intentions of my heart : beseeching you on God's behalf to

186 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

glebe lands and tithes to the church, which some fourscore years
before had been taken away, and in lieu thereof only 20/. a year
paid to tin* minister. She had from the first been so resolved,
but had been put off by unexpected delays. She found great
difficulty in making out the glebe lands : but at length by the
industry of Mr. N. Ferrar, she overcame it. She then sent her
sons John and Nicholas with a letter to the bishop informing him
of her determination, and desiring it might be confirmed by his

take them into your fatherly consideration, and to give a speedy accomplish-
ment to them, by the direction of your wisdom, and the assistance of your
authority.'

"The rest is too much to be rehearsed, save a little of her prayer to God in
the end of the papers.

" ' Be graciously pleased, Lord, now to accept from thy handmaid the resti-
tution of that, which hath been unduly heretofore taken from thy ministers.
And as an earnest and pledge of the total resignation of herself and hers to
thy service, vouchsafe to receive to the use of thy church this small portion
of that large estate, which thou hast bestowed on her the unworthiest of thy
servants. Lord, redeem thy right, whereof thou hast been too long disseized
by the world both in the possessions and in the person of thy hand-maid.
And let this outward seizure of earth be accompanied with an inward sur-
prizal of the heart and spirit, into thine own hands : so that the restorer, as
well as that which is restored, may become, and be con6rmed thine inhe-
ritance.*

"The bishop prayed to God that many such customers might come to
him : so commended her free-will offering to God, and confirmed it.

" To make them some amends for their liberality to the church, he devised
now to give them reputation against all detraction. Therefore in the spring
that came after, he gave them warning on what Sunday he would preach in
their church, whither an extreme press of people resorted from all the towns
that heard of it. In his sermon he inserted most what it was to die unto the
world: that the righteous should scarce be saved: that our right eye, and
our right hand, and all our fleshly contentments, must be cut off, that we
may enter into life. All tended to approve the dutiful and severe life of the
Femurs, and of the church that was in their house. After sermon the bishop
took their invitation to dine with them. But they were so strict to keep that
day holy, that they left not a servant at home to provide for the table. Yet
it was handsomely furnished with that which was boiled and baked, that
required no attendance, to stay any one from church to look to it. By this
visit the bishop had the means to see their way of serving God; to know the
soundness of doctrine which they maintained : to read their rules which they
had drawn up for fasts, and vigils, and large distribution of alms : in which
he bad*- them proceed in the name of God, and gave them his blessings at
his departing." — Hacket's Life of Archhishop Williams, part ii. p. 51. See
also Kennett On Impropriations and Augmentation of Vicarages, p. 235 — 7.

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 187

authority. This authority from the bishop was farther strength-
ened by a decree in chancery under lord Coventry.

In the spring of 1 634, the bishop to make some acknowledge-
ment of this generosity, gave notice, that he would again pay a
visit to the family and give them a sermon. And it being known
that he was a lover of church music, application was made to
Dr. Towers, dean of Peterborough, who sent his whole choir to
Gidding on the occasion. Divine service was performed through-
out in the cathedral manner with great solemnity. The bishop
preached a sermon adapted to the occasion, and in the afternoon
gave confirmation to all of the neighbourhood who desired it.

Every thing relative to the church being now compleatly
settled, Mr. Ferrar next turned his attention to the disposition
of the mansion. The house being very large, and containing
many apartments, he allotted one great room for their family
devotions, which he called the Oratory, and adjoining to this,
two other convenient rooms, one a night oratory for the men,
the other a night oratory for the women: he also set out a
separate chamber and closet for each of his nephews and nieces ;
three more he reserved for the schoolmasters ; and his own
lodgings were so contrived that he could conveniently see that
every thing was conducted with decency and order. Without
doors he laid out the gardens in a beautiful manner, and formed
them in many fair walks.

Another circumstance that engaged his attention was, that the
parish had for many years been turned into pasture grounds ; that
as there was a very large dovecote, and a great number of pigeons
upon these premises, these pigeons must consequently feed upon
his neighbours' corn ; and this he thought injustice. He there-
fore converted this building into a school-house, which being
larger than was wanted for the young people of the family, per-
mission was given to as many of the neighbouring towns as
desired it, to send their children thither, where they were in-
structed without expence, in reading, writing, arithmetic, and the
principles of the Christian religion.

For this and other purposes, he provided three masters to be
constantly resident in the house with him. The first was to
teach English to strangers, and English and Latin to the chil-
dren of the family : the second, good writing in all its hands,
and arithmetic in all its branches : the third, to instruct them in
the theory and practice of music, in singing, and performing upon

188 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

the organ, viol, and lute. On the last instrument his sister Collet
was a distinguished performer.

For all these things the children had their stated times and
hours. So that though they were always in action, and always
learning something, yet the great variety of things they were
taught prevented all weariness, and made every thing be received
with pleasure. And he was used to say that he who could attain
to the well-timing things, had gained an important point, and
found the surest way to accomplish great designs with ease.

On Thursdays, and Saturdays in the afternoons, the youths were
permitted to recreate themselves with bows and arrows, with
running, leaping, and vaulting, and what other manly exercises
they themselves liked best. With respect to the younger part of
the females, the general mode of education was similar to that of
the boys except where the difference of sex made a different em-
ployment or recreation proper. When the powers of reason and
judgment became in some degree matured, they were all at proper
times taken under the immediate instruction of Mr. Ferrar him-
self, who bestowed several hours every day in that important
employment. According to the capacity of each he gave tin -in
passages of Scripture to get by heart, and particularly the whole
book of psalms. He selected proper portions, of which he gave
a clear explanation, and a judicious comment. But above all
things he was anxiously attentive to daily catechetical lectures,
according to the doctrine of the Church of England. And in
order to make his pious labours extensively beneficial, he invited
the children of all the surrounding parishes, to get the book of
psalms by heart. To encourage them to this performance, i-adi
was presented with a psalter : all were to repair to Gidding every
Sunday morning, and each was to repeat his psalm, till they could
all repeat the whole book. These psalm-children, as they WITC
called, more than a hundred in number, received every Sunday,
according to the proficiency of each, a small pecuniary reward and
a dinner, which was conducted with great regularity. For, win -n
they returned from church, long trestles were placed in the middle
of the great hall, round which the children stood in great order.
Mrs. Ferrar, and her family then came in to see them scrv«-d.
The servants brought in baked puddings and nu-at : whk-h was
tin only repast provided on Sundays for the whole family, that all
might have an opportunity of attending divine service at church,
then set on tin- tir>t di>h herself, to give an example of

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 189

humility. Grace was said, and then the bell rang for the family,
who thereupon repaired to the great dining-room, and stood in order
round the table. Whilst the dinner was serving, they sang a
hymn to the organ : then grace was said by the minister of the
parish, and they sat down. During dinner one of the younger
people, whose turn it was, read a chapter in the Bible, and when
that was finished, another recited some chosen story out of the
book of martyrs, or Mr. Ferrar's short histories. When the
dinner was finished throughout the family, at two o'clock the bell
summoned them to church to evening service, whither they went
in a regular form of procession, Mr. N. Ferrar sometimes leading
his mother, sometimes going last in the train : and having all
returned from church in the same form, thus ended the public
employment of every Sunday.

Immediately after church the family all went into the oratory,
where select portions of the psalms were repeated, and then all
were at liberty till five o'clock : at which hour in summer, and
six in the winter, the bell called them to supper : where all the
ceremonial was repeated exactly the same as at dinner. After
supper they were again at liberty till eight, when the bell sum-
moned them all into the oratory, where they sang a hymn to the
organ, and went to prayers ; when the children asked blessing 7

7 Asked blessing. ,] Compare above, p. 182. This beautiful and pious cus-
tom, no small grace, ornament, and blessing, in the families of our ancestors
(compare vol. ii. pp. 72, 73, of this collection), appears to have received its first
shock, about this period, and during the Cromwellian usurpation ; an interval
in which, as it might easily be shown, a considerable portion of the best of
our old English manners, and many practices, which were themselves part of,
and instruments of piety, were exploded, and lost, by being branded under
the odious name of popery. " The having of god-fathers at baptism, church-
ing of women, prayers at the burial of the dead, children asking their parents'
blessing, &c., which whilom were held innocent were now by very many thrown
aside, as rags of popery. Nay, are not some gone so far already, as to cast
into the same heap, not only the ancient hymn Gloria Patri (for the repeating
whereof alone some have been deprived of all their livelihoods), and the
Apostles' Creed: but even the use of the Lord's Prayer itself?" — Preface to
Sanderson's Sermons, dated July 13, 1657, p. 73, edit. 1689. Yet, it is con-
solatory to find, that there were some happy families, of the most pious and
excellent of the non-conformists, who were not deterred by that malignant,
senseless, and fatal plea, from persevering in this devotion and homage to the
Father of Spirits, so congenial to his temper and example, who commanded
the young children to be brought unto him, who blamed those that would
have kept them from him, who embraced them in his arms, laid his hands
upon them and blessed them. " Immediately after the prayer was ended "

190 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

of their parents, and then all the family retired to their re-
spective apartments ; and thus ended the private observation of
the sabbath.

On the first Sunday of every month they always had a commu-
nion, which was administered by the clergyman of the adjoining
parish ; Mr. N. Ferrar assisting as deacon. All the servants who
then received the communion, when dinner was brought up, re-
mained in the room, and on that day dined at the same table with
Mrs. Ferrar, and the rest of the family.

That I may not be thought to conceal any thing which brought
censure upon them, and led to their persecution, I will here insert
the particular mode of their processions, and other circumstances
which were condemned by some as being superstitious. I shall
not pass any judgment myself on these ceremonials, relating mere
matter of fact, and observing only that where there was error, it
was error on the side of virtue and goodness.

When their early devotions in the oratory were finished they
proceeded to church in the following order :

First, the three school-masters, in black gowns and Monmouth
caps.

Then, Mrs. Ferraris grandsons, clad in the same manner, two
and two.

Then her son Mr. J. Ferrar, and her son-in-law Mr. Collet, in
the same dress.

Then, Mr. N. Ferrar, in surplice, hood, and square cap, some-
times leading his mother.

Then, Mrs. Collet, and all her daughters, two and two.

Then, all the servants, two and two. The dress of all \\a->
uniform,

Then, on Sundays, all the psalm-children, two and two.

As they came into the church, every person made a low obei-
sance, and all took their appointed places. The masters, and
gentlemen in the chancel : the youths knelt on the tipper step of
the half pace : Mrs. Ferrar, her daughters, and all her grand-
fas we are told by the celebrated Matthew Henry, in the life of his father,
Mr. Philip Henry), "his children together, with bended knee, asked blessings
of him and their mother; that is, desired of them to pray to God to bless
them ; which blessing was given with great solemnity and affection ; and if
any of them were absent they were remembered ; The Lord blfss you and
your brother ; or you and your sister that is absent.'1 P. 56, edit. 1699. Com-
pare Christian Institutes, vol. iv. p. 561, 2 ; Sanderson, ami n.

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 191

daughters in a fair island-seat. Mr. N. Ferrar at coming in
made a low obeisance ; a few paces farther, a lower ; and at the
half-pace, a lower still : then went into the reading-desk, and
read matins according to the book of common prayer. This ser-
vice over, they returned in the same order, and with the same
solemnity. This ceremonial was regularly observed every Sunday,
and that on every common day was nearly the same. They rose
at four ; at five went to the oratory to prayers ; at six, said the
psalms of the hour, (for every hour had its appointed psalms,)
with some portion of the gospel, till Mr. Ferrar had finished his
Concordance, when a chapter of that work was substituted in
place of the portion of the gospel. Then they sang a short hymn,
repeated some passages of Scripture, and at half past six went to
church to matins. At seven said the psalms of the hour, sang
the short hymn, and went to breakfast. Then the young people
repaired to their respective places of instruction. At ten, to
church to the litany. At eleven to dinner. At which seasons
were regular readings in rotation, from the Scripture, from the
book of martyrs, and from short histories drawn up by Mr. Ferrar,
and adapted to the purpose of moral instruction. Recreation was
permitted till one ; instruction was continued till three. Church
at four, for evensong ; supper at five, or sometimes six. Diver-
sions till eight. Then prayers in the oratory : and afterwards all
retired to their respective apartments. To preserve regularity in
point of time, Mr. Ferrar invented dials in painted glass in every
room ; he had also sundials, elegantly painted with proper mottos,
on every side of the church : and he provided an excellent clock
to a sonorous bell.

The short histories alluded to above were probably composed
on the occasion, and to suit some present purpose. Those which
are still remaining in my possession are put together without any
regularity of series, or any dependance of one upon another, and
are as in the catalogue annexed8.

8 LIVES.

[The life of Monica. Of Dr. Whitaker.

Of Abraham. Of Scaliger.

Of Elizer. Of Mr. Perkins.

Of Lady Paula. Of Dr. Metcalf.

Of Hyldegardis. Of Sir Fran. Drake.

Of Paracelsus. Of Mr. Cambden.

192 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

These lives, characters, and moral essays would, I think, fill

Of Haman. Of Gus. Adolphus.

Of Wolsey. Of the Black Prince.

Of Brandon D. of Suffolk. Of Joan Q. of Naples.

The life of Ld. Burleigh. Of the Witch of Endor.

Of Sir J. Markham. Of Joan of Arc.

Of St. Augustin. Of Caesar Borgia.

Of Bp. Ridley. Of Jehu.

Of L. Jane Grey. Of Andronicus Comnenus.

Of Q. Elizabeth. Of the Duke of Alva.

CHARACTERS.

The good Wife. The good Sea-Captain.

The good Husband. The good Herald.

The good Parent. The true Gentleman.

The good Child. The Favourite.

The good Master. The wise Statesman.

The good Servant. The good Judge.

The good Widow. The good Bishop.

The constant Virgin. The true Nobleman.

The elder Brother. The Court Lady.

The younger Brother. The Embassadour.

The good Advocate. The good General.

The good Physician. The Heir Apparent to the Crown.

The controversial Divines. The King.

The true Church antiquary. The Harlot.

The general Artist. The Witch.

The faithful Minister. The Atheist.

The good Parishioner. The Hypocrite.

The good Patron. The Heretic.

The good Landlord. The rigid Donatist.

The good Mar of a College. The Liar.

The good Schoolmaster. The common Barreter.

The good Merchant. The degenerous Gentleman.

The good Yeoman. The Pazzians Conspiracy *.

The Handicrafts Man. The Tyrant.

The good Soldier.

GENERAL RULES, OR ESSAYS.

CHAP. CHAP.

1. Of Hospitality. 3. Of Self-praising.

2. Of Jesting. ' 4. Of Travelling.

1 Paztiant Conspiracy.] The conspiracy, at the head of which were pope
I IV, and his nephew, Girolamo Riario, which was formed by Francesco
de' Pazzi, to assassinate Lorenzo and Giuliano de' Medici, in April, 14/8.

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 193

two or three volumes in octavo 2. They are but a small part of
the MS. works which Mr. Ferrar left behind him, which, as
appears from some papers still existing, amounted to five volumes
in folio. He was of opinion that instruction merely by precept
might sometimes become dry and wearisome, and therefore was
desirous to enliven his lectures by something that might give
pleasure to the fancy at the same time that it conveyed wisdom
to the heart. But he had great objection to plays, novels, and
romances, and to poems, that were then, and indeed have ever
since been in great esteem- He thought that in many instances
they did not tend to the important point which he had in view.
But he reflected also that our Saviour himself frequently delivered
his discourses in parables ; and therefore that fable, to a certain
degree, might be admitted in moral instruction. With this view
he composed those stories, and essays, which were intended to
enliven their readings, and conversations. Beside these, he drew
up regular discourses upon all the fasts and feasts of the church,
and these also in their order made part of the readings. Every
one of the young people, from the eldest to the youngest, male
and female, was exercised every day in these public readings, and
repetitions : by which the memory was wonderfully strengthened,
and they all attained great excellence in speaking with propriety
and grace.

But now four of Mr. Collet's eldest daughters being grown up
to woman's estate, to perfect them in the practice of good house-

CHAP. CHAP.

5. Of Company. 16. Of Plantations.

6. Of Apparel. 17. Of Contentment.

7. Of Building. 18. Of Books.

8. Of Anger. 19. Of Time-serving.

9. Of expecting Preferment. 20. Of Moderation.

10. Of Memory. 21. Of Gravity.

11. Of Fancy. 22. Of Marriage.

12. Of Natural Fools. 23. Of Fame.

13. Of Recreations. 24. Of the antiquity of Churches, and

14. Of Tombs. the necessity of them.

15. Of Deformities. 25. Of Ministers Maintenance.]

3 In octavo."] The probability however is, that the greater part, if not the
whole of this catalogue, were not original, but extracts : as Dr. Peckard
would have been able to satisfy himself by consulting Fuller's Holy State,
fol., where many of the titles of the chapters exactly correspond with those
in this catalogue.

VOL. iv. o

194 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

wifery, Mr. Ferrar appointed them in rotation to take the whole
charge of the domestic oeconomy. Each had this care for a
month, when her accounts were regularly passed, allowed, and
delivered over to the next in succession. There was also the
same care and regularity required with respect to the surgeon's
chest ; and the due provision of medicines and all things neces-
sary for those who were sick, or hurt by any misfortune. A con-
venient apartment was provided for those of the family who
chanced to be indisposed, called the infirmary, where they might
be attended, and properly taken care of, without disturbance
from any part of the numerous family. A large room was nl-o
set apart for the reception of the medicines, and of those who
were brought in sick, or hurt, and wanted immediate assistance.
The young ladies were required to dress the wounds of those who
were hurt, in order to give them readiness and skill in this
employment, and to habituate them to the virtues of humility
and tenderness of heart 3. The office relative to pharmacy, the
weekly inspection, the prescription, and administration of medi-
cines, Mr. Ferrar reserved to himself, being an excellent physi-
cian : as he had for many years attentively studied the theory,
and practice of medicine, both when physic fellow at Clare-hall,
and under the celebrated professors at Padua. In this way \\ a>
a considerable part of their income disposed of, and thus did Mr.
Ferrar form his nieces to be wise and useful, virtuous, and valu-
able women.

3 Tenderness of heart.'] In the Reliques of ancient English poetry we read
" As to what will be observed in this ballad (Sir Cauline) of the art of healing
being practised by a young princess, it is no more than what is usual in all
the old romances, and was conformable to real manners ; it being a practice
derived from the earliest times among all the Gothic and Celtic nations, for
women even of the highest rank to exercise the art of surgery. In the
northern chronicles we always find the young damsels stanching the wounds
of their lovers, and the wives those of their husbands. And even so late as
the time of queen Elizabeth it is mentioned, among the accomplishments of
the ladies of her court, that the eldest of them are skilfull in surgery."-
Rel. of Ant. Eng. Poetry. Introd. to Sir Cauline, p. 39.

" I could set down the ways and means whereby our ancient ladies of the
court do shun and avoid idleness, while the youngest sort applie to their
lutes, citharnes, prick-song, and all kinds of music : how many of the eldest
sort also are skilfull in surgery, and distillation of waters, &c. I might
easily declare, but I pass over such manner of dealing, lest I should seem to
glavcr, and currie favour with some of them." — Harrison's Descrip. of Eny.
before linllingshtad's Chron. p. 196, col. ii. 1. Jo.

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 195

In order to give some variety to this system of education, he
formed the family into a sort of collegiate institution, of which
one was considered as the founder, another guardian, a third as
moderator, and himself as visitor of this little academy. The
seven virgin daughters formed the junior part of this society, were
called The Sisters 4, and assumed the names of, 1st. The Chief.
2d. The Patient. 3d. The Chearful. 4th. The Affectionate.
5th. The Submiss. 6th. The Obedient. 7th. The Moderate.
These all had their respective characters to sustain, and exercises
to perform suited to those characters.

For the Christmas season of the year 1631, he composed twelve
excellent discourses, five suited to the festivals within the twelve
days, and seven to the assumed name and character of the sis-
ters. These were enlivened by hymns and odes composed by Mr.
Ferrar, and set to music by the music master of the family, who
accompanied the voices with the viol, or the lute. That exercise
which was to be performed by the Patient, is alone to be excepted.
There was not any poetry, or music at the opening of this as
of all the rest : the discourse itself was of a very serious turn, it
was much longer than any other, and had not any historical
anecdote, or fable interwoven into the body of it. The con-
trivance here was to exercise that virtue which it was intended to
teach.

Upon the whole, these and many other dialogues, conversa-
tions, histories, fables, and essays, which Nicholas Ferrar penned
for the immediate use of his family, and left behind him in many
large volumes, if ever the world should be so happy as to see
them, will best show what he was, a man every way so complete,
that few ages have brought forth his equal ; whether we con-
sider his vast memory, his deep judgment, his rare contrivance,
or the elegance of stile in the matter, and manner of his com-
positions.

Amongst other articles of instruction and amusement Mr.
Ferrar entertained an ingenious bookbinder who taught the
family, females as well as males, the whole art and skill of book-
binding, gilding, lettering, and what they called pasting-printing,
by the use of the rolling-press. By this assistance he composed

4 The Sisters."] A paper of " Remains of the Maiden- Sisters' Exercises at
Little-Gidding " is given by Thos. Hearne in his Caii Vindicia, vol. ii.
pp. 713 — 94. It consists principally of Discourses and Histories suitable to
the seasons of Lent, Christmas, and Advent.

o 2

196 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

a full harmony, or concordance of the four evangelists, adorned
with many beautiful pictures, which required more than a year
for the composition, and was divided into 150 heads or chapters.
For this purpose he set apart a handsome room near the oratory.
Here he had a large table, two printed copies of the evangelists,
of the same edition, and great store of the best and strongest
white paper. Here he spent more than an hour every day in the
contrivance of this book, and in directing his nieces, who attended
him for that purpose, how they should cut out such and such
particular passages out of the two printed copies of any part of
each evangelist, and then lay them together so as to perfect such
a head or chapter as he had designed. This they did first roughly,
and then with nice knives and scissars so neatly fitted each pas-
sage to the next belonging to it, and afterwards pasted them so
even and smoothly together, upon large sheets of the best white
paper, by the help of the rolling-press, that many curious persons
who saw the work when it was done, were deceived, and thought
that it had been printed in the ordinary way. This was the
mechanical method which he followed in compiling his harmony.
The title of his book * was as foEows :

"The Actions, Doctrines, and other passages touching our
blessed Lord and Saviour J. Christ, as they are related in the
four Evangelists, reduced into one compleat body of history:
wherein that which is severally related by them is digested into
order ; and that which is jointly related by all or any of them is,
first, expressed in their own words, by way of comparison ;
secondly, brought into one narration by way of composition;
thirdly, extracted into one clear context by way of collection ;
yet so as whatsoever was omitted in the context is inserted by
way of supplement in another print, and in such a manner as all
the four evangelists may be easily read severally and distinctly ;
each apart and alone from first to last : and in each page through-
out the book are sundry pictures added, expressing either the
facts themselves, or their types and figures; or other things
Appertaining thereunto. The whole divided into 150 heads."

I cannot help transcribing here a passage from Dr. Priestley's
pn-face to his Harmony of the Evangelists. "If I should be
thought to have succeeded better than the generality of my pre-
decessors, I shall attribute it chiefly to the mechanical

s His book.'] See p. 218.

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 197

I made use of in the arrangement of it ; which were as follow. I
procured two printed copies of the gospel, and having cancelled
one side of every sheet, I cut out all the separate histories, &c.
in each gospel, and having a large table appropriated to that use,
I placed all the corresponding parts opposite to each other, and
in such an order as the comparison of them (which when
they were brought so near together was exceedingly easy)
directed.

" In this loose order the whole harmony lay before me a con-
siderable time, in which I kept reviewing it at my leisure, and
changing the places of the several parts of it, till I was as well
satisfied with the arrangement of them, as the nature of the case
would admit. I then fixed the places of all these separate papers,
by pasting them, in the order in which they lay before me, upon
different pieces of pasteboard, carefully numbered and by this
means also divided into sections."

This exact agreement in contrivance between two men of un-
common genius and abilities, with respect both to the plan and
conduct of the work ; men living at a hundred and sixty years
difference of time, men too in learning, penetration, and judgment
perfectly qualified for so arduous an undertaking, affords the
strongest presumptive proof of the excellence of the method,
and at the same time the highest recommendation of it to the
observation and practice of all who are engaged in a similar
course of study.

Several of the harmonies were afterward finished upon the
same plan with some improvements : one of these books was pre-
sented to Mr. Ferrar's most dear and intimate friend, the well
known Mr. Geo. Herbert, who in his letter of thanks for it, calls
it a most inestimable jewel ; another was given to his other sin-
gular friend Dr. Jackson. The fame of this work, the produc-
tion of a man so celebrated as the author had been, soon reached
the ears of the king, who took the first opportunity to make him-
self personally acquainted with it, by obtaining the perusal of it.

Mr. Ferrar about this time wrote several very valuable trea-
tises, and made several translations from authors in different
languages, on subjects which he thought might prove serviceable
to the cause of religion. Among others, having long had a high
opinion of John Valdesso's Hundred and ten Considerations 6, &c.

6 Hundred and ten Considerations.] See note at p. 47.

198 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

a book which he met with in his travels, he now (in 1632) trans-
lated it from the Italian copy into English, and sent it to be exa-
mined and censured by his friend Mr. Herbert, before it was
made public. Which excellent book Mr. Herbert returned with
many marginal notes, and criticisms, as they are now printed
with it ; with an affectionate letter also recommending the publi-
cation.

In May, 1633, his majesty set out upon his journey to Scot-
land, and in his progress he stepped a little out of his road to
view Little Gidding in Huntingdonshire, which by the common
people was called the Protestant Nunnery. The family having
notice, met his majesty at the extremity of the parish, at a place
called, from this event, the King's Close : and in the form of
their solemn processions conducted him to their church, which
he viewed with great pleasure. He enquired into, and was in-
formed of the particulars of their public, and domestic oeconomy :
but it does not appear that at this time he made any considerable
stay. The following summer his majesty and the queen passed
two nights at Apethorpe in Northamptonshire, the seat of Mild-
may Fane earl of Westmoreland. From thence he sent one of
his gentlemen to intreat (his majesty's own word) a sight of The
Concordance, which, he had heard, was some time since done at
Gidding ; with assurance that in a few days, when he had per-
used it, he would send it back again. Mr. N. Ferrar was then
in London, and the family made some little demur, not thinking
it worthy to be put into his majesty's hands ; but at length they
delivered it to the messenger. But it was not returned in a few
days, or weeks : some months were elapsed, when the gentleman
brought it back from the king, who was then at London. He
said he had many things to deliver to the family from his master.
First, to yield the king's hearty thanks to them all for the sight
of the book, which passed the report he had heard of it. Then
to signify his approbation of it in all respects. Next to excuse
him in two points. The first for not returning it so soon as he
had promised : the other for that he had in many places of the
-I'in written notes in it with his own hand. And (which I
know will please you) said the gentleman, you will find an insta
"f my master's humility in one of the margins. The place I
i> \\ In TO he had written something with his own hand, and
tin n put it out again, acknowledging that he was mistaken in
that particular. Certainly this was .m act of great humility in

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 199

the king, and worthy to be noted ; and the book itself is much
graced by it.

The gentleman farther told them, that the king took such de-
light in it, that he passed some part of every day in perusing it.
And lastly, he said, to show you how true this is, and that what
I have declared is no court compliment, I am expressly com-
manded by my master, earnestly to request of you, Mr. Nicholas
Ferrar, and of the young ladies, that you would make him one of
these books for his own use, and if you will please to undertake
it, his majesty says you will do him a most acceptable service.

Mr. Nicholas Ferrar and the young ladies returned their most
humble duty, and immediately set about what the king desired.
In about a year's time it was finished ; and it was sent to Lon-
don to be presented to his majesty by Dr. Laud, then made arch-
bishop of Canterbury, and Dr. Cosins, master of Peterhouse,
whose turn it was to wait that month, being one of the king^s
chaplains. This book was bound entirely by Mary Collet (one of
Mr. Ferrar's nieces) all wrought in gold, in a new and most
elegant fashion.

The king after long and serious looking it over, said, " This is
indeed a most valuable work, and in many respects worthy to be
presented to the greatest prince upon earth. For the matter it
contains is the richest of all treasures. The laborious composure
of it into this excellent form of an harmony ; the judicious con-
trivance of the method, the curious workmanship in so neatly
cutting out and disposing the text, the nice laying of these costly
pictures, and the exquisite art expressed in the binding, are, I
really think, not to be equalled. I must acknowledge myself to
be indeed greatly indebted to the family for this jewel : and what-
ever is in my power, I shall at any time be ready to do for any
of them."

Then after some pause, taking the book 7 into his hands he
said, " And what think you, my lord of Canterbury, and you Dr.
Cosins, if I should ask a second favour of these good people 2
indeed I have another request to make to them, and it is this.
I often read over the lives and actions of the kings of Judah

7 Taking the book.~\ This, and another of these books, both in fine preser-
vation, are still extant in the British Museum (as I am obligingly informed
by John Holmes, Esq., one of the librarians, to whom I am very largely
indebted, in the entire progress of this third edition [1839] through the press),
and is part of the royal collection given by king George II. to the Museum,
at its foundation. See pp. 218, 219.

200 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

and Israel in the books of the Kings, and the Chronicles, and I
frequently meet with difficulties. I should be much obliged if
Mr. Ferrar would make me such a book as may bring all these
matters together into one regular narration, that I may read the
whole in one continued story, and yet at the same time may be
able to see them separate ; or what belongs to one book, and
what to another. I have long ago moved several of my chap-
lains to undertake this business : but it is not done : I suppose it
is attended with too much difficulty. Will you, my lord, apply
for me to Mr. Ferrar V The archbishop wrote to Mr. Ferrar,
acquainting him with the king's desires ; and Mr. Ferrar imme-
diately set himself about the work.

In the course of little more than a year, about Oct. 1636,
Mr. Ferrar and his assistants completed the harmony of the two
books of the Kings and Chronicles, and young Nicholas Ferrar
bound it in purple velvet, most richly gilt. It was sent to the
archbishop and Dr. Cosins, to be by them presented to the king.
His majesty was extremely delighted with it, saying, " it was a
fit mirror for a king's daily inspection. Herein," he said, " I shall
behold God's mercies and judgments : his punishing of evil
princes, and rewarding the good. To these his promises, to
those his threatenings most surely accomplished. I have a
second time gained a great treasure. What I said of the first
book, I may most justly say of this ; and I desire you will let
them know my high esteem both of it and of them." Dr. Cosins
then presented a letter from Mr. Ferrar, which the king declared
he thought the finest composition he ever read. In farther dis-
coursing of these harmonies with the divines, the king determined
that for public benefit they should be printed under his own
immediate command and protection. But the troubles of the
ensuing times prevented this laudable purpose from being car-
ried into execution. The title of this second harmony was as
follows :

" The History of the Israelites from the death of King Saul,
to their carrying away captive into Babylon : collected out of the
books of the Kings, and Chronicles, in the words of the text,
without any alteration of importance by addition to or diminu-
tion from them. Whereby, first, all the actions and
related in any of the books of the Kings and Chronicles, whether
jointly or severally, are reduced into the body of one complete
narration. Secondly, they are digested into an orderly depend-
ance one upon the other. Thirdly, many difficult places are

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 201

cleared, and many seeming differences between the books of
Kings and Chronicles compounded. And this is so contrived, as
notwithstanding the mutual compositions of the books into one
historical collection, yet the form of each of them is preserved
entire, in such a manner as they may be easily read, severally
and distinctly from first to last. Together with several tables.
The first, summarily declaring the several heads or chapters into
which the historical collection is divided. The second, specifiying
what passages are related severally in the aforesaid books, and
what are jointly related by them both : as also in what heads and
chapters in this collection they may be found. The third, shewing
where every chapter of the texts themselves, and every part of
them may be readily found in this historical collection."

Fragments of one copy of this, and some other of the harmo-
nies, with some of the prints belonging to them, and the three
tables specified in the title above, have lately been found among
the old MSS. of the family : but very much disjointed and con-
fused, and considerably hurt by time and other injuries.

These are probably the last works of this sort, executed by
Mr. Ferrar, who died in little more than a year, and was very
weak and infirm a considerable time before his death. But the
connexion between the king and this family did not cease on Mr.
Ferrar's death. For it appears from several papers still in being,
that there was what may be justly called a friendly intercourse
subsisting even till the distressful year 1646. For during this
interval, and after the death of Mr. Ferrar, other harmonies of
other parts of the Scripture were drawn up by Nicholas Ferrar
jun. upon the plan of his uncle, by the particular direction of the
king, for the use of the prince ; and were to him presented in the
years 1639, 1641, and at other times. This extraordinary young
man was particularly favoured by the king, who had undertaken
to send him to Oxford under his own immediate protection ; and
to take upon himself the care and expence of completing his
education. But his ill state of health which ended in an early
death, prevented the execution of this benevolent intention. The
particular memorials 8 of this intercourse were probably lost in
the ensuing distractions.

On the 27th of April, in that fatal year (1646) the king left

8 The particular memorials.'] These memorials, the subject deservedly of
Dr. Peckard's repeated regret, have happily been preserved, and are now
published here from a MS. (No. 251) in the Lambeth Library.

202 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

Oxford. Being unresolved how to dispose of himself, he shifted
about from place to place, with his trusty chaplain, Dr. Hudson,
and at length came to Downham in Norfolk. From thence he
came on May the 2nd very privately and in the night to Gidding.
Mr. Nicholas Ferrar had been dead several years. But the king
having an entire confidence in the family, made himself known to
Mr. John Ferrar, who received his majesty with all possible duty
and respect. But fearing that Gidding, from the known loyalty
of the family, might be a suspected place, for better concealment
he conducted his majesty to a private house at Coppinford, an
obscure village at a small distance from Gidding, and not far
from Stilton. Here the king slept, and went from thence, May
3, to Stamford, where he lodged one night, staid till eleven the
next night, and from thence went, on May 5, to the Scotch army.

Of the king's coming at this time in this state of distress
to Gidding, I collect from various authorities the following
evidence.

In the examination of Dr. Michael Hudson, taken May 16,
1646, before Henry Dawson, esq. deputy mayor of Newcastle
upon Tyne, he deposes that he came from Oxford on Monday
morning about 3 o'clock, April 27 ; and that his majesty, Mr.
Ashburnham, and himself, made use of an old pass, which they
had gotten from an officer in Oxford. That they went first to
Dorchester, then to Henley, Maidenhead, and so on the road
toward London : but he refused to say where the king lodged on
Monday night. That when they turned to go northward, his
majesty lodged Tuesday, Ap. 28, at Whethamstead near to St.
Albans. That from thence his majesty went to a small village
within seven miles from Newmarket, and lodged in a common
inn, Wednesday 29. From thence they went to a place called
Downham, where his majesty lodged, Thursday, 30. From
thence to Coppinford, where his majesty lodged, Friday, May 1.
From thence to Stamford, May 2, where they stayed till midnight.
May 3. Went from thence, Monday, May 4, and came to the
Scotch army, Tuesday, May 5.

This is the substance of the examination of Dr. Hudson con-
(•••ruing the king's journey from Oxford to the Scotch army 9.

• Scotch army.] [Michael Hudson was born in Westmoreland, and edu-
cated in Queen's college, Oxford. In 1630 he was made fellow of that col-
lege. He was afterwards beneficed in Lincolnshire. But when the king set
up his standard he left his benefice and adhered to him. After the battle at

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 203

In the letter from Miles Corbett and Valentine Walton to
Mr. Lenthall the speaker, directed, Haste, Haste, Post Haste,
the account agrees with the examination of Dr. Hudson, with
respect to the king's coming with Hudson to Downham, and
lodging there on Thursday the last day of April, but states that
they cannot learn where they were on Friday night. It after-
wards mentions several particular circumstances, as their being
at a blind alehouse at Crimplesham about eight miles from Lynn,
and the king's being in a parson's habit, and changing his black
coat and cassock for a grey one procured by Mr. Skipwith ; and
that his majesty bought a new hat at Downham. But these
particulars seemed to be delivered more from hearsay accounts,
than regular evidence. The main purport of this letter confirms
the deposition in Dr. Hudson's examination, that the king
certainly was at Downham, on the last of April, or the first of
May : and in fact he was there on both days, coming to that
place on the last of April, and leaving it on the first of May.

Mr. Ferrar's MS. asserts that the king came very privately to
Gidding, May 2. Dr. Hudson says the king slept at Coppinford,

Edge-hill he retired to Oxford, and in February, 1642, was created D.D. and
made chaplain to his majesty. Soon after, he had an important employment
in the army, in the north, under the command of the marquis of Newcastle.
On the 8th of June, 1646, he was discovered at Rochester, brought to Lon-
don, and committed prisoner to London-house. On Nov. 18, he escaped
from his prison, and in January following he was retaken, and committed
close prisoner to the Tower. He escaped also from thence in the beginning
of 1648. On the 6th of June that year, intelligence was brought to the par-
liament that the royalists were in arms in Lincolnshire, under the command
of Dr. Hudson ; and two days after, information came from col. Tho. Waite
that he had suppressed the insurrection of malignants at Stamford, in Lin-
colnshire, and had killed their commander, Dr. Hudson.

The circumstances of his death were attended with peculiar barbarity. He
fled with the chief of his party to Woodcroft-house, near Peterborough. The
house being forced, and most of the royalists taken, Hudson, with some of
the most courageous, went to the battlements, where they defended them-
selves for some time. At length, upon promise of quarter, they yielded ; but
when they had so done, the promise of quarter was broken. Hudson being
thrown over the battlements, caught hold of a spout, or out-stone, and there
hung : but his hands being cut off, he fell into the moat underneath, much
wounded, and desired to come on land to die there. As he approached the
shore, one of his enemies beat his brains out with the butt end of his musket.
See A. Wood, vol. ii. col. 113. See also the interesting papers in Peck's
Desiderata Curiosa, b. ix. vol. ii. p. 347 — 81. On this sir Walter Scott has
founded the story of Dr. Rochecliffe in " Woodstock."

204 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

May 1. These two accounts may easily be reconciled. Dr.
Hudson reckons the night, or time of his majesty"^ lodging and
sleeping, as belonging to the preceding day, on which he came
from Downham or Crimplesham, which was May the first. But
as the king came very privately to Gidding, and in the very dead
of the night ; and as it must necessarily require some time to
provide for his lodging at Coppinford, this would of course break
into the morning of May the 2nd : and Mr. Ferrar might with
equal propriety say that the king came very privately to Gidding,
and that he conducted his majesty to sleep at Coppinford, May 2.
These circumstances must awaken the compassion 10 of every
feeling heart, even amongst those who are disposed to lay the
heaviest load of blame upon the king : since they are mentioned
not as an insinuation that he was free from faults, or as an
extenuation of those with which he might be justly charged : but
as a proof of very affecting distress, and a strong instance of the
instability of worldly greatness. He had his faults ; and who hath
not ? but let it be remembered that there were virtues to set in
the balance against them.

I have been anxious to ascertain this point, from a desire to
make it known beyond all doubt, what was the very last place
where this most unfortunate prince was in the hands of those
whom he might safely trust, and under the protection of an
honest and confidential friend; and that this place was the
residence, and now contains the remains of that worthy person to
whose memory these pages are devoted.

In fitting up the house at Gidding, moral sentences, and short
passages from the Scriptures " had been put up in various places ;
and in the great parlour was an inscription which gave rise to

10 Awaken the compassion.'] The distresses of this unhappy monarch, inde-
pendently of the last bloody scene of the tragedy, excited much commiseration
in the English hearts even of many who never sided amongst his partizans in
the war. We are told in the Life of Mr. Thomas Rosewell, afterwards a
dissenting minister, and who was found guilty of treason in the reign of
Charles II., that "travelling a little from home, he accidentally saw king
Charles the First, in the fields, sitting at dinner under a tree, with some few
persons about him. This made such deep impressions in his young and
tender mind, as disposed him to the greater compassion and loyalty towards
that unhappy monarch." — Trial of Mr. Thomas Rosewell, p. 5.

II Passages from the Scriptures.'] This was according to a practice intro-
duced, both into houses and churches, about the time of the Reformation.

" Christophor. I am loth to go so soone out of this your hall, which

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 205

much speculation and censure. It was nevertheless first approved
of by several judicious divines, and particularly by Mr. Herbert,

feedeth mine eies with so many godly and goodly spectacles. Philemon.
Why is here any thing that you thinke worthy to be looked upon ? Chris-
toph. Every thing is here so pleasaunte and comfortable to the eye of a
Christian man, that he being in this haull may justlye seeme to be in a
delectable paradise, I had almost sayd in another heaven. For here is
nothing dumme : all things speake. Theophile. I pray you what is there
written upon your parclose dore ? Philem. The saying of Christ, I am the
dore ; by me if any man entreth in, he shall be safe, and shall goe in and out,
and shall find pasture. This is done to put me and my householde in
remembrance that Christ is the dore by whome we must enter into the
favour of God. Eusebius. This is Christenly done. What is this, that is
written upon your chimney ? Phil. The saying of the prophete Esay, The
fire of them shall not be quenched. Christ. This is a terrible and hard
saying. Phil. I have paynted this sentence in that place, that as the other
fixed upon the dore maketh me to rejoyse and to put my whole afiyaunce in
Christ, so this in like manner should absterre and feare me and mine from
doying evil whan by lookyng on this text we consider with ourselves the
unquenchable flames of hell fier. — Euseb. What have ye there written
in your window ? Philem. Christes saying in the Gospel of S. John, I am
the light of the world. He that followeth me walketh not in darkness, but
shall have the light of life. Theoph. Your table also, me thinke, speaketh.
Philem. Herein is graven the saying of Christ, Blessed is he that eateth
bread in the kingdom of God. This is to admonish us, that we should
not have all our pleasure in eating, drinking, and banketing after the maner
of Epicures, but rather desier so to live in this world, that after this life we
may be fed in the joyful kingdom of God by enjoying the most glorious
sight of the divine majestie. Euseb. What have ye paynted over youre
table ? Philem. The sayinge of the prophete Esay, yea rather the com-
maundement of God by his prophet, Breake thy bread to the hungry, and
leade in the needy and way-faring into thy house. Euseb. I pray you what is
that your chaires and stoles have carved on them ? Philem. A saying of
Christ in the Revelation of John ; To him that overcometh will I grant to sit
with me in my throne. It is not unknowen to you, I am sure, how com-
fortable a thing it is for a wery body to sit, and to have a restyng place.
Certes it is a thousande times more comfortable to have a place where body
and soule after so many great and daungerous conflicts in this miserable
worlde, may quietly rest. Therefore have I wrytten this texte on my chayres
and stoles, to put me and myne in remembrance, that if we will find rest
after this life, we must seriously not dally, but fighte with Satan our enemy."
The cup, the dishes, the laver, the virginals, the door posts, all had their
respective superscriptions in the house of Philemon, which are recounted in
the progress of the Dialogue. The last instance mentioned, is the following :
" Euseb. I pray you what two great tables have you hanging there openly ?
Phil. This is the table of the Ten Commaundements, which teacheth us what
we ought to do, and what to eschewe. The other is a table also which con-
taineth in it the offices of all degrees and estates. It teacheth us what we

206

NICHOLAS FERRAR.

who advised it to be engraved in brass, and so hung up that it
might be seen of all. But calumny was now gone forth, and
nothing could be done at Gidding that was not subjected to the
severest misrepresentation. The inscription was as follows :

IHS

HE who (by reproof of our errors,
and remonstrance of that which is
more perfect) seeks to make us
better, is welcome as an Angel of
God.

He who any ways goes about to
disturb us in that which is and
ought to be amongst Christians
(tho* it be not usual in the world)
is a burden whilst he stays and
shall bear his judgment whoso-
ever he be.

I HE who (by a cheerful partici-
pation of that which is good) con-
-n-iiu s firms us in the same, is welcome
as a Christian Friend.

But

And

HE who faults us in absence for
that which in presence he made
shew to approve of, doth by a
double guilt of flattery and slan-
der violate the bands both of
friendship and charity.

MARY FERRAR, Widow,
Mother of this Family,

aged fourscore years,

(who bids adieu to all fears and hopes of this world, and only
desires to serve God)
set up this Table.

The extraordinary course of life pursued at Gidding, the strict-

owe to our most noble Prince, to our parentes, and to all superioures. In
this table every man from the highest degree to the lowest may learne his
office and duety. Therefore are these two tables red every day openly in my
house : my wife and children, with all my servaunts beyng called thereunto,
and giving attendance diligently to the reading of the same. If any of my
houshold transgresse any parcel of God's lawe, he is brought streight way to
these tables, and by them is his faulte declared unto hym. This is the order
of my house. Other correccion than this use I none : yet notwithstanding I
thanke my Lord God, all doe theyr duety so well, that I cannot wish it to be
done better." Becon's Christmasse Banket, Works, vol. i. fol. 17, A.D. 1564.
See also fol. 34. In the reign of queen Mary all the texts of Scripture which
had been written on the walls of churches were commanded by authority to
be blotted out and defaced. See Becon's Works, vol. iii. fol. 176. b. and
's Eccles. Memorials, vol. iii. p. 57.

rrar's friend, George Herbert, speaking of the country par-
sonage : " Even the walls are not idle, but something is written or painted
there, which may excite the reader to a thought of piety ; especially the
101st Psalm, which is expressed in a fair table, as being the rule of a family."
A Priest to the Temple, chap. x.

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 207

ness of their rules, their prayers, literally without ceasing, their
abstinence, mortifications, nightly watchings, and various other
peculiarities, gave birth to censure in some, and inflamed the
malevolence of others, but excited the wonder and curiosity of
all. So that they were frequently visited l with different views by
persons of all denominations, and of opposite opinions. They
received all who came with courteous civility ; and from those
who were inquisitive they concealed nothing : for in truth there
was not any thing either in their opinions or their practice that
was in the least degree necessary to be concealed. Whether their
conduct was a subject of admiration or of imitation is a distinct
enquiry, which at present there is not any occasion to enter upon.
They were at the time, notwithstanding all the real good they did,
severally slandered and vilified : by some they were abused as
papists ; by others as puritans. Mr. Ferrar himself, though pos-

1 Frequently visited.] "The nearest gentleman in the neighbourhood was a
Roman Catholic : yet he and his lady often visited Gidding, without any
pressing expectations to be paid those respects in the same kind, by a family
so constantly better employed than in returning visits of compliment. Be-
sides, the master of their morals used to warn them all, but especially the
younger people under his care, ' that he is wise and good, and like to con-
tinue so, that keeps himself out of temptation.'

" One day his neighbour brought with him to Gidding, three learned priests
of his own religious communion; one of them a celebrated writer for the
church of Rome ; all of them full of curiosity to sound a man of such depth
of learning, of such an excellent understanding, and of so great piety, as
rumour had attached to the character of Mr. Ferrar. He did not decline
engaging with them ; in which he was upon a vast advantage above ordinary
managers of similar controversies, having in his travels, with his own eyes,
seen their practices, and made it so much his business to compare them with
their pretences. The conference was spun out to a great length j it was sup-
ported on all hands with equal temper, and with such acuteness too, as not to
leave the question where they found it. They traversed every essential point
of difference between protestant and papist, and parted upon such terms as
were proper for men who desired at least to maintain the communion of
charity with each other.

" One of them afterwards related that he had * seen Little Gidding, the
place so much in every body's mouth ;' that ' they found the master of the
house another kind of man than they expected : a deep and solid man, of a
wonderful memory, sharp-witted, and of a flaming eloquence : one who,
besides his various reading, spoke out of experience, with insight into things,
as well as books.9 In conclusion, he was heard to say, that this man, if he
lived to make himself known to the world, would give their church her hands
full to answer him, and trouble them in another manner than Luther had
done."— Brief Memoirs of Nicholas Ferrar (from bishop Turner, &c.) p. 133, 4.

208 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

sessed of uncommon patience, and resignation, yet in anguish of
spirit complained to his friends, that the perpetual obloquy he
endured was a sort of unceasing martyrdom 2.

Hence violent invectives, and inflammatory pamphlets were
published against them. Amongst others, not long after Mr.
Ferraris death, a treatise 3 was addressed to the parliament, en-

2 Unceasing martyrdom.'] " He was so exercised with contradictions, as no
man that lived so private as he desired to do, could possibly be more. I
have heard him say, valuing, not resenting, his own sufferings, in this kind,
that to fry a faggot was not more martyrdom, than continual obliquy. He was
torn asunder as with mad horses, or crushed betwixt the upper and under
milstone of contrary reports; that he was a Papist, and that he was a
Puritan. What is, if this be not, to be sawn asunder as Esay, stoned as
Jeremy, made a drum, or tympanized, as other saints of God were ! And
after his death, when by injunction, which he laid upon his friends when he
lay on his death bed, a great company of comedies, tragedies, love hymns,
heroical poems, &c. were burnt upon his grave, as utter enemies to Chris-
tian principles and practices, (that was his brand) some poor people said,
He was a conjuror." Oley's Life of Mr. George Herbert, prefixed to his
Country Parson.

3 A treatise.] The history of this treatise, which had no little effect at
the time when it first appeared, and which has not been without some in-
fluence in our own times, is curious. Sir Thomas Hetley or Hedley, knight,
a lawyer of some note, who, with Heneage Finch, and others, on the 26th
June, 1623, had been made serjeant-at-law, was desirous of learning some
particulars as to the proceedings of the Ferrars family at Gidding, which was
not very distant from Brampton, where he possessed some property. He
therefore requested his friend and relation, Edward Lenton, (of Gray's Inn
and of Notley, or Noctele Abbey, in Buckinghamshire, near Thame,) to visit
Gidding for that purpose. Some time in the year 1635, Edward Lenton went
there, and wrote a letter to sir T. Hetley, intituled, " Letter to Sir Thomas
Hetley, knt., serjeant-at-lawe, vpon his request, to certifie as I found concerninge
the reputed nunnerie at Giddinge, in Huntingdonshire," giving a very favourable
account of the Ferrars family, and of their proceedings. This was circulated
in manuscript, the temper of the times not being very favourable to its ap-
pearance in print. The author's name was not given, and it appears to have
been purposely concealed. The British Museum possesses several contem-
porary copies, one of which is said to be " by a friend :" another has the
initials " H. S." The Letter was first printed by Thomas Hearne, in his edition
of Peter Langtoft's Chronicle, Oxford, 1725, vol. i. p. cix., "from a MS. lent to
the publisher on July 6th, 1724, by Thomas Ward, of Longbridge, near

ick, esq.," which MS. was signed "H. S.j" and it was again printed
by Hearne, with the author's real name, in his edition of Th. Caii Vindicite
Academic Oxonienxis, Oxford, 1730, vol. ii. p. 702. It will also be found at
the end of the present life, p. 251.

But although Lenton did not venture to print his letter to Hetley, others

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 209

titled, The Arminian Nunnery, or a brief description and relation
of the late erected monastical place, called the Arminian Nunnery
at Little Gidding in Huntingdonshire : humbly addressed to the
wise consideration of the present parliament. The foundation is by
a company of Ferrars at Gidding. Printed for Tho. Underhill,
1641.

In which production there is nothing but falshood, or what is
much worse, truth wilfully so mangled and misrepresented as to
answer the vilest ends of falshood. And this sort of malignity
was carried to such a length, that not long before the real tragedy
of king Charles was perpetrated, certain soldiers of the parliament
party resolved to plunder the house at Gidding. The family being
informed of their hasty approach, thought it prudent to fly, and,
as to their persons, endeavour to escape the intended violence.

These military zealots, in the rage of what they called reforma-
tion, ransacked both the church and the house. In doing which
they expressed a particular spite against the organ. This they
broke in pieces, of which they made a large fire, and thereat
roasted several of Mr. Ferrar's sheep, which they had killed in
his grounds. This done they seized all the plate, furniture, and
provision which they could conveniently carry away. And in this
general devastation perished those works of Mr. Nicholas Ferrar,
which merited a better fate.

Certainly no family suffered more from less cause of offence :
for though they were pious and firm members of the church of

were not so scrupulous. A transcript fell into the hands of some zealous, but
unprincipled puritan, who interpolated his own observations, and otherwise
falsified it, and printed it under the title (given above) of " The Arminian Nun-
nery, fyc." 1641, with a rude wood-cut, on the title page, of a nun and a
church. This pamphlet is now very rare, but copies are in the British
Museum and Bodleian libraries, and the former possesses a transcript made
by Humphrey Wanley, from a copy belonging to Dr. Charlcott, master of
University College. It has been reprinted by Hearne, in his edition of "Peter
Langtoffs Chronicle," Oxford, 1725, vol. i. p. cxxv. The modern edition of
Hearne's work also contains it. Being avowedly a falsification of the truth,
it has not been thought proper to reprint it here. This false and abusive
publication naturally excited the attention of John Ferrar, and in reply to his
remonstrances, Edward Lenton sent him a copy of the true Letter, with an
explanation, dated Notley, near Thame, 27th October (1642). The same
causes which prevented the publication of the letter to Hetley, operated to
keep this letter of explanation in MS. It was first printed by Hearne in his
edition of Th. Caii Vindicics Acad. Oxon., 1730., vol. ii. p. 693. It will be
found in the present vol., at p. 251, post.

VOL. IV. p

210 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

England, they behaved themselves quietly, and with Christian
benevolence towards all men of all denominations : and although
they practised austerities which were not exceeded by the severest
orders of the monastic institutions, yet they neither required
them from others, nor in themselves attributed any saving merit
to them ; austerities which mistaken piety thought a duty, but
which, it must be confessed, have not any proper foundation in
the Christian institution.

A short time before the commission of these violences, bishop
Williams paid his last friendly visit at Gidding, and seeing the
inscription in the parlour, said to Mr. John Ferrar, " I would
advise you to take this table down. You see the times grow high
and turbulent, and no one knows where the rage and madness of
the people may end. I am just come from Boston, where I was
used very coarsely. I do not speak as by authority, I only advise
you as a friend, for fear of offence or worse consequences.'1 Then
after sincerely condoling with them on their irreparable misfor-
tune in the death of Nicholas Ferrar, he bade them his final
farewell. But ever after continued their firm friend, and con-
stantly vindicated the family from the many slanders of their false
accusers. — But to return from this digression.

Mrs. Ferrar, towards the close of her life, seems to have been
convinced that the mortifications practised by the family, were
more than were necessary, and she became apprehensive for the
health, and even for the life of her beloved son. She therefore
earnestly entreated him, and with many tears besought him, that
he would relax a little in the severe discipline which he exercised
upon himself. And he, being an example of filial obedience, com-
plied in some degree with her request, during the remainder of
her life : but this was not of long continuance.

In the year 1635, ten years after coming to Gidding, this ex-
cellent woman died, aged eighty-three years. Her character, as
follows, is given by her son Mr. John Ferrar, who collected, and
left the materials for these memoirs. " Though of so great age,
at her dying day, she had no infirmity, and scarce any sign of old
age upon her. Her hearing, sight, and all her senses were very
good. She had never lost a tooth ; she walked very upright, and
with great agility. Nor was she troubled with any pains or
uneasiness of body. While she lived at Gidding she rose, sum-
mer and winter, at five o'clock, and sometimes sooner. In her
person she was of a comely presence, and had a countenance so

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 211

full of gravity that it drew respect from all who beheld her. In
her words she was courteous, in her actions obliging. In her
diet always very temperate ; saying, she did not live to eat and
drink, but ate and drank to live. She was a pattern of piety,
benevolence and charity. And thus she lived and died, esteemed,
revered, and beloved, of all who knew her." Such are the effects
of a life of temperance and virtue.

While his mother was yet living Mr. Ferrar did so far comply
with her request, that he went to bed, or lay down upon it, from
nine in the evening till one in the morning, which was his constant
hour of rising to his devotions. But after her death he never did
either : but wrapping himself in a loose frieze gown, slept on a
bear's skin upon the boards. He also watched either in the
oratory, or in the church three nights in the week.

These nightly watchings having been frequently mentioned, it
may not be improper here to give a short account of the rules
under which they were performed. It was agreed that there
should be a constant double nightwatch, of men at one end of the
house, and of women at the other. That each watch should con-
sist of two or more persons. That the watchings should begin at
nine o'clock at night, and end at one in the morning. That each
watch should in those four hours, carefully and distinctly say over
the whole book of psalms, in the way of Antiphony, one repeat-
ing one verse, and the rest the other. That they should then
pray for the life of the king and his sons. The time of their
watch being ended, they went to Mr. Ferraris door, bade him
good morrow, and left a lighted candle for him. At one he con-
stantly rose, and betook himself to religious meditation, founding
this practice on an acceptation too literal of the passage, At
midnight will I rise and give thanks, and some other passages of
similar import. Several religious persons both in the neighbour-
hood, and from distant places, attended these watchings : and
amongst these the celebrated Mr. Richard Crashaw, fellow of
Peterhouse, who was very intimate in the family, and frequently
came from Cambridge for this purpose, and at his return often
watched in Little St. Mary's church near Peterhouse *.

4 Near Peterhouse.~\ [A most respectable author hath given his sanction, if
not to the severity, at least to a moderate observation of this mode of
psalmody, in his Comment on the 134th Psalm.

" Bless ye the Lord all ye servants of the Lord, who by night stand in the

p 2

212 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

His friends perceiving a visible decay of his strength, remon-
strated against these austerities, fearing bad consequences to his
health ; they told him that he was much too strict in his way of
life ; they advised him to go abroad, to take the air frequently,
and to admit of some innocent amusement. He replied, "that
to rise and go to bed when we please, to take the air and get a
good appetite, to eat heartily, to drink wine, and cheer the spirits,
to hunt, and hawk, to ride abroad, and make visits, to play at
cards and dice, these are what the world terms gallant and plea-
sant things, and recreations fit for a gentleman : but such a life
would be so great a slavery to me, and withal I think it of so
dangerous a tendency, that if I was told I must either live in that
manner, or presently suffer death, the latter would most certainly
be my choice."

There cannot be any doubt but that these austerities gradually
reduced a constitution originally not very strong, and shortened
the life of a most virtuous, and most valuable man.

house of the Lord. Bless him in the chearful and busy hours of the day :
bless him in the solemn and peaceful watches of the night.

" The pious Mr. Nicholas Ferrar exhibited in the last century an instance
of a protestant family, in which a constant course of psalmody was appointed,
and so strictly kept up, that through the whole four and twenty hours of day
and night, there was no portion of time when some of the members were
not employed in performing that most pleasant part of duty and devotion."
Dr. Home.

The high degree of veneration in which Mr. Ferrar held the book of
Psalms appears from the peculiar attention he bestowed upon it ; as hath
been particularly related in the foregoing part of these memoirs. Nor is he
singular in this respect. Dr. Home says, the " Psalms are an epitome of
the Bible, adapted to the purposes of devotion. That for this purpose they
are adorned with figures, and set off with all the graces of poetry, and poetry
itself designed yet farther to be recommended by the charms of music, thus
consecrated to the service of God ; that so, delight may prepare the way for
improvement, and pleasure become the handmaid of wisdom, while every
turbulent passion is calmed by sacred melody, and the evil spirit still dispos-
sessed by the harp of the son of Jesse." " What is there necessary for man to
know," says the pious and judicious Hooker, " which the Psalms are not able
to teach ? They are to beginners, an easy and familiar introduction, a mighty
augmentation of all virtue and knowledge in such as are entered before, and
a strong confirmation to the most perfect among others." Hooker. See
Dr. Home's Pref. to his Commentary.

On such respectable authority, I may safely recommend a proper degree of
attention to the example of Mr. Ferrar, so far as time, and opportunity, and
the peculiar circumstances of situation will admit.]

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 213

About three months before his death, perceiving in himself
some inward faintness, and apprehending that his last hour was
now drawing very near, he broke off abruptly from writing any
farther on a subject which was now under his consideration. This
breaking off is yet to be seen in that unfinished treatise, with his rea-
son for discontinuing it. He then began to write down Contem-
plations on Death in the following words :

" The remembrance of death is very powerful to restrain us
from sinning. For he who shall well consider that the day will
come (and he knoweth not how soon) when he shall be laid on a
sick bed, weak and faint, without ease and almost without
strength, encompassed with melancholy thoughts, and over-
whelmed with anguish ; when on one side, his distemper increasing
upon him, the physician tells him that he is past all hope of life,
and on the other, his friends urge him to dispose of his worldly
goods, and share his wealth among them : that wealth which he
procured with trouble, and preserved with anxiety : that wealth
which he now parts from with sorrow : when again the priest calls
on him to take the preparatory measures for his departure : when
he himself now begins to be assured that here he hath no abiding
city : that this is no longer a world for him : that no more suns
will rise and set upon him : that for him there will be no more
seeing, no more hearing, no more speaking, no more touching, no
more tasting, no more fancying, no more understanding, no more
remembering, no more desiring, no more loving, no more delights
of any sort to be enjoyed by him ; but that death will at one
stroke deprive him of all these things : that he will speedily be
carried out of the house which he had called his own, and is now
become another's : that he will be put into a cold, narrow grave :
that earth will be consigned to earth, ashes to ashes, and dust to
dust : let any man duly and daily ponder these things, and how
can it be that he should dare "

Here the strength of this good man failed him, and his essay
is left thus unfinished.

On the second of November he found that his weakness
increased, yet he went to church, and on that day officiated for
the last time. After this, his faintness continued gradually to
increase, but he suffered not the least degree of bodily pain.
He conversed with his family, and earnestly encouraged them to
persevere in the way he had pointed out to them. And addressing
himself particularly to his brother, said, " My dear brother, I

214 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

must now shortly appear before God, and give an account of what
I have taught this family. And here with a safe conscience I
can say, that I have delivered nothing to you but what I thought
agreeable to his word : therefore abide steadily by what I have
taught. Worship God in spirit and in truth. I will use no
more words. One thing however I must add, that you may be
both forewarned, and prepared. Sad times5 are coming on,
very sad times indeed ; you will live to see them." Then grasping
his brother's hand, he said, U0h ! my brother ! I pity you, who
must see these dreadful alterations. And when you shall see
the true worship of God brought to nought, and suppressed,
then look, and fear that desolation is nigh at hand. And in
this great trial may God of his infinite mercy support and deliver
you."

The third day before his death he summoned all his family
round him, and then desired his brother to go and mark out a
place* for his grave according to the particular directions he

6 Sad times.'] " When some farmers near the place where master Ferrar
lived, somewhat before these times, desired longer leases to be made them,
he intimated, that seven years would be long enough. Troublous times were
coming : they might thank God if they enjoyed them so long, in peace."
Oley's Life of Mr. George Herbert. "When these sad times were come,
religion and loyalty were such eye sores, that all the Ferrars fled away, and
dispersed, and took joyfully the spoiling of their goods. All that they had
restored to the church, all that they had bestowed upon sacred comeliness,
all that they had gathered for their own livelihood and for alms, was seized
upon as a lawful prey, taken from superstitious persons." Racket's Life of
Abp. Williams, part 2. p. 53.

6 Mark out a place.'] "Three days before his death, at about eight o'clock
in the morning, he summoned all his family around him, and addressed his
brother John to this effect : * Brother, I would have you go to the church,
and at the west end, at the door where we enter the church, I would have
you measure from the steps seven feet to the westward, and at the end of
those seven feet, there let my grave be made.' His brother stood almost
drowned in tears, as in truth were all the standers-by : indeed never had a
family more cause to bewail a loss. Mr. Ferrar continued : ' Brother, that
first place of the length of seven feet, I leave for your burying-place ; you
are my elder brother : God, I hope, will let you there take-up your resting-
place, till we all rise again in joy/ When his brother returned, saying it was
done as he desired ; ' then go,' he added, ' and remove from my study those
three large hampers full of books, that stand there locked up these many
years. They are comedies, tragedies, heroic poems, and romances : let them
be carried to the place marked out for my grave, and there, upon it, see you
burn them all immediately.' And this he uttered with some vehemence and

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 2J5

then gave. When his brother returned, saying it was done as
he desired, he requested them all in presence of each other to
take out of his study three large hampers full of books, which had
been there locked up many years. " They are comedies, tragedies,
heroic poems, and romances ; let them be immediately burnt
upon the place marked out for my grave : and when you shall
have so done, come back and inform me." When information
was brought him that they were all consumed, he desired that
this act might be considered as the testimony of his disapproba-
tion of all such productions, as tending to corrupt the mind of
man, and improper for the perusal of every good and sincere
Christian.

On the first of December, 1637, he found himself declining
very fast, and desired to receive the sacrament : after which, and
taking a most affectionate farewell of all his family, without a
struggle, or a groan, he expired in a rapturous ecstacy7 of
devotion.

Thus lived, and thus died Nicholas Ferrar, the best of sons, of
brothers, and of friends, on Monday, Dec. 2, 1637, precisely as
the clock struck one : the hour at which for many years he con-
stantly rose to pay his addresses to heaven.

indignation, adding, * Go, brother ; let it be done, let it be done ; and then
come again all of you to me/

" These books had been carefully locked up ever since the family had taken
up their abode at Gidding, in order that no one should make use of them, or
see them. There were many hundreds in several languages, which Mr.
Ferrar had procured at different places in his travels, some of them with
much search and cost.

" His orders were obeyed. The vain things which once had charmed him,
were sacrificed over the spot which was to receive his mortal remains ; and
the smoke and flame of this holocaust, as they flared from the eminence on
which the house and church stood, excited the attention and alarm of the
neighbourhood, and drew together very many persons, who imagined a
destructive fire was happening at Gidding.

" When the people saw what was doing, they went away, and reported
that Mr. Ferrar was dying, and his books burning. Within a few days the
report of this transaction had assumed another feature, and it was currently
asserted in the neighbouring market towns, that he would not die in peace
until he had burned all his books of magic and conjuration.

. . . . " When his brother returned, and assured him that they were all
burnt, he sat up in his bed, and poured out his soul in hearty thanksgivings
to Almighty God."— Brief Memoirs, fyc. (from Bp. Turner), p. 182—6.

7 A rapturous ecstacy. ,] See Brief Memoirs of Nicholas Ferrar (from Bp.
Turner) by the Rev. T. M. Macdonogh, p. 188—91.

216 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

That he was eminently pious towards God, benevolent towards
man, and perfectly sincere in all his dealings: that he was
industrious beyond his strength, and indefatigable in what he
thought his duty : that he was blessed by providence with uncom-
mon abilities ; and by unremitted exertion of his various talents
attained many valuable accomplishments, is very manifest from
the preceding memoirs, and is the least that can be said in his
praise ; and though greatly to his honour, is yet no more than
that degree of excellence which may have been attained by many.
But the spiritual exaltation of mind by which he rose above all
earthly considerations of advantage, and devoted himself entirely
to God, whom in the strictest sense he loved with all his heart,
with all his soul, and with all his strength, being united to the
active virtues of a citizen of the world, gives him a peculiar pre-
eminence even among those who excel in virtue. For though he
practised self-denial to the utmost, and exercised religious seve-
rities upon himself scarce inferior to those of the recluses who
retired to deserts, and shut themselves up in dens and caves of
the earth, yet he did not, like them, by a solitary and morose
retirement, deprive himself of the power continually to do good,
but led a life of active virtue and benevolence. His youth was
spent in an incessant application to learned studies, and the time
of his travel was given to the acquisition of universal wisdom.
On his return home, in conducting the affairs of an important
establishment, he displayed uncommon abilities, integrity and
spirit. As a member of the house of commons he gained dis-
tinguished honour, and was appointed the principal manager to
prosecute, and bring to justice the great man and corrupt
minister of that time. And having thus discharged the duties of
a virtuous citizen, he devoted the rest of his life to the instruction
of youth, to works of Christian charity, and to the worship of
God in a religious retirement, while he was yet in possession of
his health and strength, and in the prime of manhood. That
like the great author, who was his daily and nightly study and
admiration, the royal Psalmist, he might not sacrifice to God,
that which cost him nothing. In one word, he was a rare
example of that excellence in which are blended all the brilliant
cjualitifs of the great man, with all the amiable virtues of the
good.

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 217

As a sequel to the preceding memoirs, I will subjoin a short
account of Mr. Nich. Ferrar, jun. as being proper, if not neces-
sary, to clear up some difficulties concerning the works of these
two extraordinary persons, who were blessed with a similarity of
genius, and possessed uncommon accomplishments in learning
and virtue.

Nicholas Ferrar, jun. was the son of John Ferrar, esq. (elder
brother to the sen. Nicholas) and Bathsheba, daughter of Mr.
Israel Owen of London. He was bom in the year 1620. By a
picture of him in the editor's possession, taken when he might
be something more than a year old, he appears to have been a
robust and healthy child. When he became capable of instruc-
tion his uncle took him under his own immediate care, and
finding in him a quickness of parts, and a turn of disposition
congenial to his own, he instructed, and assisted him in the
same course of studies which he himself had pursued in the early
part of his life.

In this he made such a rapid proficiency, as was the asto-
nishment of all who knew him, and, could it not be proved by
sufficient testimony, might occasion a great difficulty of belief.

It cannot be expected that the life of a young man, who scarce
ever went from the sequestered place of his education, and died
when he was but little more than twenty years of age, should
abound with incidents ; but if the term of existence were to be
measured by virtue and knowledge, few would be found who have
lived so long.

This extraordinary youth was dearly beloved of his uncle, who
spared no diligence or expense in his education, providing able
tutors both in the sciences and in languages, and bestowing great
part of his own time in his instruction. He too like his uncle,
with uncommon quickness of parts, and extraordinary strength of
memory, possessed an equal ardour for improvement, and an
indefatigable spirit of application.

He also was the constant attendant of his uncle in his religious
exercises, and particularly in the nightly watches, and acts of
devotion. And it is to be feared that these (may I say ?) too
severe exertions might in some degree tend to shorten the term
of life.

He was but seventeen at the death of his uncle, and he
survived him but four years. He died May 19, 1640, in his
twenty-first year.

218 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

The first work in which young N. Ferrar appears to have
been employed by his uncle was the translation of Mynsinger^s
Devotions ; a volume containing a very large collection of prayers
for all sorts and conditions of men. N. Ferrar, sen. commended
this book of Occasional Devotions as the best he had ever seen
upon the subject, and said that it could not but do much good in
the world. This the nephew performed when he was about four-
teen years of age. His greater works, as they are arranged in
the original MS. stand as follows : and I give them in the very
words of the MS. without correction of some little inaccuracies in
the account, which it is hoped will meet with pardon *.

Sir,

Upon your request, and bound by the great obligation of your
worth, I have thus scribbled out, what here follows; rather
willing to shame myself in this kind, than not to fulfil your
desires. Such as it is, you will please to accept, from,

Sir,
Your much obliged in all love and service,

J. F.

1. FIRST WORK ».

Glory be to God on High.
The actions, doctrines, and other passages touching our blessed Lord and

8 With pardon.'] In the room of what follows in Dr. Peckard's Life, from
the conclusion of this paragraph, (from p. 260 to p. 278) the reader is here
presented with a much more complete, and extremely interesting account,
transcribed, by the permission of his grace the archbishop of Canterbury,
from a MS. (No. 251) in the Lambeth library. These papers appear to have
been written by Mr. John Ferrar, the father of the extraordinary young man
to whom they refer, the eldest brother of Nicholas Ferrar, sen. and the com-
piler of the original MS. from which Dr. Peckard's Memoirs of the elder
Nicholas are taken. They were written probably in the year 1653; but to
whom they are addressed, it does not appear.

* First Work.] A. copy of this work, of which the title, with one or two
trifling variations, agrees with that given above, but dated in 1 635, is in the
British Museum. See above, p. 199, note. It is in old green morocco
binding richly gilt. The present editor has also seen, in the possession of
his friend the Rev. Thomas Dowdier, the representative of the last baronet
of the Cotton family, another copy of this work, dated 1635. Conington,
the seat of the Cottons, is not more than five miles from Little Gidding. Of
the Fenrar volumes given to George Herbert and Dr. Thomas Jackson (see
p. 197) no trace has been found. Mr. Mapletoft's was afterwards in the

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 219

Saviour Jesus Christ, as they are related by the Four Evangelists, reduced
into one complete body of history ; wherein that which is severally related by
them, is digested into order, and that which is jointly related by all, or any of
them, is first expressed in their own words, by way of comparison ; secondly,
brought into one narration, by way of composition ; thirdly, extracted into
one clear context, by way of collection : yet so as whatsoever was omitted in
the context, is inserted by way of supplement in another print, and in such
a manner as all the Four Evangelists may easily be read severally, and dis-
tinctly, each a-part and alone, from first to last 1. Done at Little Gidding,
anno 1630.

In each page throughout the whole book were sundry exquisite pictures
added, expressing either the facts themselves, or other types and figures, or
matters appertaining thereunto, much to the pleasure of the eye, and delight
to the reader.

2. SECOND WoRK2.

The history of the Israelites, from the death of king Saul, to the carrying
away captive into Babylon : collected out of the books of Kings and Chroni-
cles, in the words of the texts themselves, without any alteration of importance
by addition to them, or diminution from them : whereby, first, all the actions
and passages, which are in either of the books of Kings or Chronicles, whe-
ther jointly or severally, are reduced into the body of one complete narration ;
secondly, they are digested into an orderly dependancy one upon the other ;
thirdly, many difficult places are cleared: and many seeming differences
between the books of Kings and Chronicles compounded : and all this so
contrived, as notwithstanding these mutual compositions of the books of
Kings and Chronicles in this historical collection, yet the form of each

possession of Mr. Heming of Hillingdon ; and other copies have been said to
exist in the libraries of the marquis of Salisbury, and St. John's College,
Oxford.

1 First to last.'] From a copy of this Harmony Dr. Peckard produces
(p. 274) the following memorandum :

"This book was presented by my great-grandmother, by my honoured
mother's two sisters (the daughters of John and Susanna Collet), and by
their uncle Nicholas Ferrar, who was my godfather, to my ever honoured
mother, Susanna Mapletoft, the same year in which I was born (1631).
And I desire my son, to whom I do give it, with the Great Concordance,
and other story books, that it may be preserved in the family as long as
may be.

" JOHN MAPLETOFT, Jan. 23, 1715."

2 Second Work.'] A copy of this, dated 1637, is also in the British Museum,
to which it came with the old Royal Library. It is also in old green morocco
binding, ornamented with lines of gold. The British Museum also possesses,
from the same source, a work by the Ferrars family not hitherto described,
it is in two parts, entitled Acta Apostolorum elegantiss. monochromatis delineata.
The Revelation of St. John the Divine. In a large folio volume, in old green
morocco, richly gilt, of a different pattern from either of the preceding.

220 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

of them is preserved intire, in such a manner as they may easily be read
severally and distinctly, from first to last. Also there are three sundry kinds
of tables : theirs/ summarily declaring the several heads and chapters, into
which this historical collection is divided ; the second specifying what passages
are related in the aforesaid books of Kings and Chronicles, and what are
jointly related by them both, as also in what heads and chapters in the col-
lection they may be found ; the third shewing where every chapter of the
texts themselves, and every part of them may be very readily found in this
collection.

N. There is an intention, and preparation making (if the times permit) to
make a second piece in this kind : but to illustrate it in a more pleasant and
profitable way, and manner, than this first work was done. The good Lord
say Amen to it !

3. THIRD WORK.

MONOTE22APON.

The actions, doctrines and other passages touching our Lord and Saviour
Jesus Christ, as they are related by the Four Evangelists; harmonically,
symmetrically, and collaterally placed, in four languages, English, Latin,
French, Italian, reduced into one complete body of history; wherein that
which is severally related by them, is digested into order, and that which is
jointly related by all or any of them, is first extracted into one narration, by
way of composition ; secondly, brought into one clear context, by the way of
collection : to which are, in all the pages of the book, added sundry of the best
pictures that could be gotten, expressing the facts themselves, or their types,
figures, or other matters appertaining thereunto; done at Little Gidding,
anno 1640.

4. FOURTH WORK.

The Gospel of our blessed Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, according to
the holy Evangelists, in eight several languages, Hebrew, Greek, Latin,
French, Spanish, High Dutch, Saxon and Welsh, all interpreted with Latin
or English, word for word, interlineally placed, and at one view to be seen
and read ; so done and contrived for the use and benefit of all such as are
desirous with sureness, ease, speed and pleasure, to attain to the knowledge
of these languages : likewise it may be of very good help to strangers that
may desire to learn the English tongue.

5. FIFTH WORK.

Novum Testamentum Domini et Salvatoris Nostri Jesu Christi viginti
quatuor linguis expressum, vid.

1. Hebraice. 7. Anglo-Saxonice.

2. Greece. 8. Muscovitire.

3. Syriace. 9. Cambro-Britannice.

4. Arabice. 10. Belgice.

5. jEthiopice. 11. Suedice.

6. Latine. 12. Hibernice.

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 221

13. Germanice. 19. Gallice.

14. Polonice. 20. Ttalice.

15. Danice. 21. Hispanice.

16. Bohemice. 22. Cantabrice.

17. Hungarice. 23. Lusitanice.

18. Anglice. 24. Sclavonice.

Unaquaeque lingua proprio suo charactere scripta, et omnes Harmonice et
Symmetrice collocate, etiamque Syriaca literis et vocalibus Hebraicis scripta,
cum interlineari Latina interpretatione insuper adjecta.

6. SIXTH WORK.

Sacrosanctum S. Johannis Evangelium in totidem linguis quot sunt
capita, vid.

Caput Caput

1. jEthiopice. 12. Germanice.

2. Greece. 13. Hungarice.

3. Syriace. 14. Gallice.

4. Arabice. 15. Italice.

5. Latine. 16. Hispanice.

6. Saxonice. 17. Suedice.

7. Hebraice. 18. Danice.

8. Anglice. 19. Polonice.

9. Cambro-Britannice. 20. Belgice.

10. Bohemice. 21. Hibernice et Muscovitice.

11. Cantabrice.

Et unaqueeque lingua per interlinearem Latinam interpretationem ad
verbum redditam et positam, explicata.

Some Observations that happened upon these forenamed Works, done
at Gidding, and the acceptation of them by the King and
Prince.

1. Upon the first work.

His sacred majesty, anno 1631, having heard of some rare
contrivements, as he was pleased to term them, of books done at
Little Gidding in Huntingdonshire, in an unusual way and manner,
for their own private uses and employments; and that the
younger sort learned them without book, and hourly made repeti-
tion of some part of them, that so both their hands and minds
might be partakers in what was good and useful : it so happened
that being at Apthorpe * at the earl of Westmoreland's house, in

3 At Apthorpe.'] In Northamptonshire.

222 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

his progress, about seven miles off Gidding ; he sent a gentleman
of his court, well loved of him, to Gidding ; who came and de-
clared, that the king his master desired that there might be sent
by him A BOOK, but he knew not the name of it, that was made
at Gidding, and somewhat of it every hour repeated by them.
The tidings were much unexpected, and Nicholas Ferrar at
London. Leave was craved, that the deferring of the sending of
it might be respited one week, and the king might be informed,
that the book was wholly unfitting every way for a king^s eye :
and those that had given him any notice of such a thing had
much misinformed his majesty ; and when he should see it, he
would con them no thanks 4, the book being made only for the
young people in the family. But all excuses could not satisfy
this gentleman. He said if we enforced him to go without it,
he knew he should be again sent for it that night ; and no nays
he would have. So necessity enforced the delivery; and the
gentleman seemed greatly contented ; took the book, saying not
his man, but himself would carry it : he knew it would be an
acceptable service to his master ; and engaged his faith, that at
the king^s departure from Apthorpe, he would bring it again.
But a quarter of a year past. Then came the gentleman again ;
but brought no book ; but after much compliment said, the king
so liked the work itself, and the contrivement of it in all kinds,
that there had not a day passed, but the king, in the midst of all
his progress and sports, spent one hour in the perusing of it :
and that would apparently be seen by the notations he had made
upon the margins of it with his own hand : and that his master
would upon no terms part with it, except he brought him a pro-
mise from the family, that they would make him one for his daily
use, which he should esteem as a rich jewel. Some months
after the gentleman, acquainting the king what he had done in
obedience to his command, brought back the book from London
to Gidding ; saying, that upon the condition that within the space
of twelve months the king might have one made him, he was to
render back that again ; and so with many courtly terms he <]<>-
I .art «'d, with intimation from Nicholas Ferrar, that his majesty^
commands should be obeyed.

4 He would con them no thanks. ,] So, " Frend Hoggarde, / cun you thanke,
that you have learned somewhat at Father Latimer'8 Sermons." — Robert
Crowley's Confutation of the Aunswer to the Ballad, called " The Abuse of the
Blested Sacrament of the Altare." Signat. A 3. b. A.D. 1548.

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 223

The book being opened, there was found, as the gentleman
had said, the king's notes in many places in the margin ; which
testified the king's diligent perusal of it. And in one place which
is not to be forgotten, to the eternal memory of his majesty's
superlative humility (no small virtue in a king,) having written
something in one place, he puts it out again very neatly with his
pen. But that, it seems, not contenting him, he vouchsafes to
underwrite, " I confess my error: it was well before" (an example
to all his subjects) "/ was mista&en."

Before the year came about, such diligence and expedition was
used, that a book was presented to his majesty, being bound in
crimson velvet, and richly gilded upon the velvet, a thing not
usual. The king gratiously with a cheerful countenance received
it : and after a curious perusal, after having asked many questions
concerning the work, and the parties that had done it ; said to
the lord's grace of Canterbury, and divers other lords that stood
about him, (doctor Cosin being also there, that was his chaplain
for that month), " Truly my lords, I prize this as a rare and rich
jewel, and worth a king's acceptance. The substance of it is of
the best alloy in the world, and ought to be the only desirable
book. And for the skill, care, cost, used in it, there is no defect,
but a superlative diligence in all about it. I very much thank
them all : and it shall be my Vade mecum. How happy a king
were I, if I had many more such workmen and women in my king-
dom. God's blessing on their hearts, and painful hands ! I know
they will receive no reward for it." Then he gave the book to
the lords to peruse, saying, there are fine pictures in it. The lords
said, they believed the like book was not in the world to be seen.
It was a precious gem, and worthy of his cabinet.

Then said the king to my lord of Canterbury, and to doctor
Cosin, " What think you ? Will not these good people be willing
that I put them to a further trouble ? I find their ability and art
is excellent : and why should I doubt of their condescension to
my desire 2" " Your majesty need not," replied the archbishop ;
and doctor Cosin seconded him. " We know they will fulfill
your commands in all things in their powers." " Well," said the
king, "let me tell you, I often read the books of Kings and
Chronicles, as is befitting a king: but in many things, I find
some seeming contradictions ; and one book saith more, and the
other less, in many circumstances the latter being a supply to the
former. Now I seeing this judicious and well- contrived book

224 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

of the Four Evangelists, I gladly would have these skilful persons
to make me another book that might so be ordered, that I might
read these stories of Kings and Chronicles so interwoven by
them, as if one pen had written the whole books ; and to make it
a complete history altogether : yet so again ordering the matter,
that I may also read them severally and apart, if I would. I
have often spoken to many of my chaplains about this thing ;
but they have excused themselves (from it) as a difficult work,
and (they) not skilful in that way." " Let your majesty rest
contented, and doubt not, but with the best expedition that can
be, the thing shall be done as you intimate. Doctor Cosin shall
acquaint them speedily with your majesty's pleasure."

So intimation was given them at Gidding of this thing : and
they with all care and diligence instantly set about it. And thus
was this second work, (as you see in the insuing title,) begun
and finished in a year's time. And what happened in the pre-
senting and acceptation of it, you shall find by the insuing dis-
course that follows upon it.

THE SECOND WOIIK done at Little Gidding, whereof the title is
as you see, was in the time of twelve months finished ; and the
proceedings that happened thereupon, here insueth.

The king's most excellent majesty having in the interim often
demanded when the book would be done, saying the time seemed
long unto him till he saw it :

It being now sent up to London, my lord of Canterbury under-
standing so much by Dr. Cosin and one Mr. Ramsay, that had
married one of the daughters of the family, he being a minister,
desired it might be brought such a day to court. My lord took
it, and perused it, and to admiration beheld it, saying, u Here is
a master-piece indeed in all kinds, inside and outside, all per-
formed by those judicious heads, and active hands of Little
Gidding. Sure these, and the like words they intend, deserve to
make it alter its name from Parva to Magna. Come, said he,
let us go to the king, who, I am sure, will bid us welcome for
tl»is royal present."1

At their coming into the room where the king was, he seeing

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 225

my lord of Canterbury to have a stately great book in his two
hands, presently rose out of his chair where he was sitting, many
lords then standing round about him : " What," said he, " shall
I now enjoy that rich jewel I have thus long desired 1 Have you
my lord, brought me my book?" " Yea sir," replied the bishop
of Canterbury. " Give it me ; give it me," said the king. " Your
expectations, sir," said he, "are not only performed, but out of
doubt many ways surpassed. For my own part, I wonder at the
work, and all the parts of it." " Let me have it ;" said the king.
So smiling he took it, and carried it to the table.

Then first seriously viewing the outside of the book, being
bound curiously in purple velvet, and that also most artificially
gilt upon the velvet in an extraordinary manner, he said, " My
lords, the outside thus glorious, what think you will be the inside
and matter of it ?" Then untying the stately string, he opening
it read the frontispiece and contents of the book : then turning
to my lord of Canterbury, he said, " You have given me a right
character of the work : truly it passeth what I could have wished :
and what I think none but those heads and hands in my kingdom,
can do the like again." And so he began to view it leaf by leaf,
and turned it all over very diligently, observing the form and con-
trivement of it. Then looking upon his lords, that had their eyes
also fixed upon it, he said, " My lords, this, this is a jewel in all
respects, to be continually worn on a king's breast, and in his
heart." And then he shewed them the fair orderly contrivement
of the joint books of Kings and Chronicles, thus united together
in one history, "as if written," said he, "by one man's pen."
And so, many words passed about it, between the lords and the
king, they extolling it as an excellent piece. " Well," said the
king, " I will not part with this diamond, for all those in rny
Jewel-house. For it is so delightful to me : and I know the vir-
tues of it will pass all the precious stones in the world. It is a
most rare crystall glass, and most useful, and needful, and profit-
able for me and all kings. It shews and represents to the life,
God's exceeding high and rich mercies, to all pious and virtuous
kings, and likewise his severe justice to all ill and bad. What
then more profitable to us all, or more needful? It shall, I
assure you, be my companion in the day time : and the sweetest
perfumed bags that can lie under my head in the night. Truly I
am very much taken with it at all times ; but more, it being thus
comprised in a full pleasant history. My lord of Canterbury, I

VOL. IV. Q

226 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

now perceive that these good people at Gidding can do more
works in this kind, than this. Let them have my hearty thanks
returned. I know they look for none, neither will they receive
any reward. Yet let them know, as occasion shall be, I will not
forget them : and God bless them in their good intentions ! " And
so after some more talk the lords had of Gidding, the king took
up the book, and went away with it in his arms.

Some while after, doctor Cosin gave notice, that the king, the
more he perused both books given him, the more he liked them ;
and had conference with him about the printing of them, that, as
he said, " all his people might have the benefit of them." And
doctor Cosin told the king, it was a kingly motion, and by his
majesty's favour, they should be put out, as at his command, and
the latter as done by his directions.

N. It is to be known, that these works were so done as if they
had been printed the ordinary way ; as most that saw them did
think so. But it was in another kind done; though all was
printed indeed, and not written, as some may conceive at the
reading of the titles of the books.

THE THIRD WORK was occasioned and effected upon a letter
sent to Gidding from a person of honour, that the prince, having
seen the king his father's book, that was first of all presented
him, of the Concordance of the Four Evangelists, &c. would have
fain begged it of the king ; but he told him, he might not part
with that rich jewel, for he daily made use of it ; but if he desired
one, he made no question, but the same heart and hands that
framed his, would fit him also with one for his use; and
hoped he would make good use of it, for it was the book of
books, &c.

Upon the intimation given of the prince's desire, though Mr.
Nicholas Ferrar, senior, was then with God, yet his young
nephew, that bare his name, whom his uncle entirely loved, (not
permitting him to be any where brought up but at Gidding. and
under his own eye) having seen all the former works done in the
house; his beloved kinswomen, that were the handy-work mis-
tresses of the former, were also most willing to lay to their help-

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 227

ing assistances; so the young youth, having attained to the
knowledge of many languages (as you shall hear hereafter, being
a study that his wise, judicious uncle, Nicholas Ferrar, had put
him upon, finding him every way fitted naturally for such know-
ledge,) they laying their heads together, thought a concordance
of four several languages would be most useful, and beneficial,
and pleasant to the young prince's disposition ; and so, in the
name of God, after all materials were provided and ready, they
uniting their heads and hands lovingly together, setting apart so
many hours in the fore-noons, and so many in the afternoons, as
their other exercises and occasions permitted, constantly met in
a long fair spacious room, which they named the Concordance
Chamber, wherein were large tables round the sides of the walls,
placed for their better conveniency and contrivement of their
works of this and the like kind ; and therein also were placed
two very large and great presses, which were turned with iron
bars, for the effecting of their designs.

And now we are in the Concordance room (which was all
coloured over with green pleasant colour varnished, for the more
pleasure to their eyes, and a chimney in it for more warmth, as
occasion served,) let me here relate, that each person of the
family, and some other good friends of their kindred, gave each
their sentence, which should be written round the upper part of
the walls of the room ; that so when they entered the chamber,
or at any time looked up from the walls, these sentences pre-
sented themselves to their eyes. — As you entered in at the door
into the room, over your head at that end was written that sen-
tence of Scripture, that their uncle, of blessed memory, did fre-
quently use upon several occasions.

At the upper end was written high upon the wall —

" Glory le to God on High,
Peace on Earth, Good will toward Men"

^Prosper thou, 0 Lord, the work of our hands.
0 prosper thou our handy works"

And under it, (on each side of that upper window,) on the one
side was written :

" Thou art too delicate, 0 brother, if thou desirest to reign
both here with the world, and hereafter to reign with Christ in

228 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

And on the other side of the window ;

" Innocency is never better lodged than at the Sign of Labour"
And then on both sides of the walls there are written,

" Love not sleep, least thou come to poverty.

Open thine eyes, and thou shalt be satisfied with bread."

" He that spendeih his time — "

" Seest thou a man diligent in his business, Jte shall stand before
kings."

" The industrious man hath no leisure to sin ; and the idle man
hath no power to avoid sin."

THIS THIRD WORK thus finished, it was upon consultation
thought fitting, that it should not go single and alone, but to stay
awhile till Nicholas Ferrar, junior, had finished and ordered four
other pieces of works, being businesses of many and several lan-
guages, and the titles of them are those four succeeding frontis-
pieces, that follow one after the other, as you have seen : the
Four Evangelists, in such and such languages as is there de-
scribed, written by his own hand, and so composed by his head
and industry.

All these five pieces, that one for the prince, and four for the
king, being all made ready, they were carried up to London ; but
in the way they went by Cambridge, and there were shewed to
some eminent persons, a bishop then present there, and other
learned scholars (and before that time, also to the bishop of
Peterborough, and other doctors that there had sight of them).
All these learned men gave their approbation to the works, and
no small commendation, as well as admiration, that they were so
contrived and ordered, for substance and form, by one of those
tender years.

Nicholas Ferrar coming to London, as he had directions, ad-
dressed himself to my lord of Canterbury, from him to receive
orders how to proceed. Who when he saw the young man, and
was informed of his errand, by those that conducted him to his
presence, the young man kneeling down, craving his blessing, and
kissing his hand, my lord embraced him very lovingly, took him
up, and after some salutes, he desired a sight of the books ; which

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 229

when he had well seen and perused, he very highly commended
them in every particular, and said, " These truly are jewels only
for princes : and your printed one will greatly take the prince, to
whom I perceive you intend it. So will the other four pieces be
no less acceptable to the king himself ; and so all things, the form,
the matter, the writing, will make the king admire them, I know.
And," said he, '" but that my eyes see the things, I should hardly
have given credit to my ears, from any relation made of them by
another. But," said he, "I now find, great is education, when it
meets with answerable ability, and had its directions from so
eminent a man, as that counsellor was, that gave the hints and
rise to all these contrivements before his death." And after
much discourse he gave Nicholas Ferrar leave to depart. And
gave directions that next day in the afternoon, being Maundy
Thursday, Nicholas Ferrar should be in such a room at White
Hall.

The bishop came at the time he had appointed to that room,
where he found Nicholas Ferrar and others waiting his leisure.
And they perceived he came out of another room where the king
then was. " Come," said he, " in God's name, follow me, where
I go ;" and led them into a room, where the king stood by the
fire, with many nobles attending him. When the king saw the
archbishop enter the room, he said, " What, have you brought
with you those rarities and jewels you told me of 2" " Yea, sire,"
replied the bishop, " here is the young gentleman, and his works."
So the bishop taking him by the hand, led him up to the king.
He falling down on his knees, the king gave him his hand to kiss,
bidding him rise up. The box was opened ; and Nicholas Ferrar
first presented to the king that book made for the prince : who
taking it from him, looking well on the outside, which was all
green velvet, stately and richly gilt all over, with great broad
strings, edged with gold lace, and curiously bound, said, " Here
is a fine book for Charles indeed ! I hope it will soon make him
in love with what is within it : for I know it is good." So open-
ing it, and with much pleasure perusing it, he said merrily to the
lords, " What think you of it ? For my part, I like it in all
respects exceeding well ; and find Charles will here have a double
benefit by the well contrivement of it, not only obtain by the
daily reading in it a full information of our blessed Saviour's life,
doctrine, and actions (the chief foundation of Christian religion ;)
but the knowledge of four languages, A couple of better things

230 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

a prince cannot desire ; nor the world recommend unto him. And
lo ! here are also store of rare pictures to delight his eye with."

Then Nicholas Ferrar, the king looking upon him, bowing
himself to the ground, said, " May it please your sacred majesty,
this work was undertaken upon the prince's command. But I
dared not present it to him, till it had your majesty's approbation
and allowance." " Why so ?" said the king ; " It is an excellent
thing for him, and will do him much good." " Sir," said Nicholas
Ferrar, " my learned and religious wise uncle, under whose wings
I was covered, and had my education from my youth, gave me
amongst other rules, this one : that I should never give any thing,
though never so good or fitting, to any person whatever, that had
a superior over him, without his consent and approbation first
obtained : as nothing to a son, to a wife, to a servant : for he
said it was not seemly nor comely so to do. Whereupon, sir, I
have by the favour of my lord of Canterbury's grace, come to
present this piece unto your majesty's view, and to beg your good
leave to carry it to the prince." The king with attention heard
all, and turning him to the lords, said, " You all hear this wise
counsel, and you all see the practice of it. I do assure you, it
doth wonderfully please me. I like the rule well : and it is worthy
of all our practice. And now you see we all have gained by the
sight of this rich jewel a third good thing." Then turning him
to the lord of Canterbury, he said, " Let this young gentleman
have your letters to the prince to-morrow, to Richmond, and let
him carry this present. It is a good day you know, and a good
work would be done upon it." So he gave Nicholas Ferrar the
book : who carrying it to the box, took out of it a very large
paper book, which was the FOURTH WORK, and laid it on the table
before the king. " For whom," said the king, "is this model?"
" For your majesty's eyes, if you please to honour it so much."
" And that I will gladly do," said the king, " and never be weary
of such sights as I know you will offer unto me."

The king having well perused the title page, beginning, " The
Gospel of our Lord and Blessed Saviour Jesus Christ, in eight several
languages, &c" said unto the lords, " You all see, that one good
thing produceth another. Her< \\v have more and moiv r;u
from print now to pen. These are fair hands \\vll written, and as
well composed." Then replied the lord of Canterbury, "when
your majesty hath seen all, yon \\iil have more and more cause to
admire." M What !" said tin- kin«j, u is it possible- we shall !><•-

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 231

hold yet more rarities ?" "Then," said the bishop to Nicholas
Ferrar, " reach the other piece that is in the box :" and this we
call the FIFTH WORK, the title being Novum Testamentum, &c. in
viginti quatuor linguis, &c. The king opening the book said,
" Better and better. This is the largest and fairest paper that
ever I saw." Then, reading the title page, he said, " What is
this ? What have we here ? The incomparablest book this will
be, as ever eye beheld. My lords, come, look well upon it. This
finished must be the emperor of all books. It is the crown of all
works. It is an admirable master-piece. The world cannot
match it. I believe you are all of my opinion. The lords all
seconded the king, and each spake his mind of it. " I observe
two things amongst others," said the king, " very remarkable, if
not admirable. The first is, how it is possible, that a young man
of twenty-one years of age," (for he had asked the lord of Can-
terbury before, how old Nicholas Ferrar was) " should ever attain
to the understanding and knowledge of more languages, than he
is of years ; and to have the courage to venture upon such an
Atlas work, or Hercules labour. The other is also of high com-
mendation, to see him write so many several languages, so well as
these are, each in its proper character. Sure so few years had
been well spent, some men might think, to have attained only to
the writing thus fairly of these twenty-four languages." All the
lords replied, his majesty had judged right ; and said, except they
had seen as they did, the young gentleman there, and the book
itself, all the world should not have persuaded them to the belief
of it. And so much discourse passed upon the business to and
fro, and many questions demanded and answered, here, too long to
repeat.

" Well," said the king to my lord of Canterbury, " there is
one thing yet that I would be fully satisfied in, and see the proof
and real demonstration of it, over and above what I have yet
seen. I do really believe and know, that these persons here
would not present this unto me, or any thing else, that were not
full of truth. I say, I no way doubt of all I have seen : yet if
I may be resolved in one question, that I shall demand, it will
wonderfully please me. The thing, my lord, is this. Let me, if
it be possible, have more than this affirmation, by word and pen
thus shewed me, that he understands all these several languages,
and can English them, word for word, properly. I know yourself,

232 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

my lord, and many other men in my court, can try and prove him
in many of them ; but where shall I find men to try and pose
him in all the others, that are so unusual and scarce known 2" My
lord of Canterbury, being somewhat at a stand, replied, " Sir,
you need not be so scrupulous, but be confident that he can and
doth understand all of them :" and then looking upon Nicholas
Ferrar, to see what he could say for himself in this kind ; who all
the while stood silent attending the end and upshot of the king's
demands ; then bowing himself to the ground at his majesty's feet,
he spake in this manner and effect. " May it please your sacred
majesty, the difficulty you in your great wisdom have propounded
so judiciously, to have a present proof given you, that I understand
all these several twenty-four languages, and can translate them
into English or Latin, is that which I conceived your majesty
would put me upon, when you should see that which you have
done ; and to that intent I now brought with me, what will and
may fully satisfy your majesty, as it was my part to do, and to
prepare for it in that kind, as you require." " Let us then now
see it," said the king. Now you are to know that this proof-book
Nicholas Ferrar had of purpose concealed it, from my lord of
Canterbury, not shewing it him, when he at first saw the rest of
them. So Nicholas Ferrar presently stepped to the box, it being
covered under papers at the bottom of it, and came and gave it
into the king's hands. The king opening it, and smiling, reading
the title page of it, which was this, Sacrosanctum Sancti Johannis
Evangelium, in totidem Linguis quot sunt Capita, &c. " I now
see I shall be fully contented ;" and so turning the book all over,
leaf by leaf, and perusing it, seeing each chapter interpreted in
each language, word for word with English or Latin, he called
my lord of Canterbury to the table, who all this while stood
somewhat in doubt what this proof would be ; " Lo ! here is an
ample proof and manifestation, wittily contrived ; and I am fully
satisfied in all things. He could never have done this, but that
he is a master of them all. And I am the more glad I raised the
doubt ; but much more that he hath thus undeniably made a full
proof of his rare abilities in every kind. What say you to it, my
lord?" Who replied, it was far beyond what he should IIUM-
thought of ; and was right glad to see it. So many questions
were asked and answered to the king's good liking. Tlu- kin«r
turning to the rest of the lords, who also took the book and \\«T<-

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 233

admiring at it, and spake of it in no small way of commendation,
said, " We have spent part of our Maimday Thursday to good
purpose, have we not, my lords, think your1 They all replied
they had seen those good things and rarities, that they never did
before, nor should see the like they believed again for the future.
" It is very rightly said," said the king. So looking upon Nicho-
las Ferrar he willed him, that he should go the next morning to
Richmond, and carry the prince the book made for hiui. " And
after the holiday," said he, " return to my Lord of Canterbury ;
and then you shall know my good approbation of yourself and
all you have done ; and he shall signify to you my will and plea-
sure, what I will have you to do, and where you are to go."

So dismissing him with a cheerful royal look, the king said to
my lord of Canterbury, " Alas ! what pity is it, that this youth
hath not his speech, altogether so ready as his pen, and great
understanding is." For the king had observed, that sometimes
at the first bringing out his words, he would make a small pause ;
but once having begun, he spake readily and roundly, as other
men did. " Sir," said my lord of Canterbury, " I conceive that
small impediment in his tongue hath been very happy for him."
"How can you, my lord, make that good?" " Sir," said he,
" out of doubt, the small defect in that one tongue hath gained,
by the directions of that learned and wise uncle of his, that
directed him to the study of all these languages, (as finding his
great abilities of wit, memory, and industry,) the attaining of
them, and producing these and the like rare works, that you see,
done by him to admiration. So oftentimes God, in his great
wisdom and love, turns those things, we account our prejudice,
to our greatest happiness, if with pleasure and chearfulness we
undergo them, and to his own further glory. So that neither he
nor his parents have cause to grieve at that small defect he hath
in his one tongue, that by it hath gained so many more, that
make him more eminent, than that one could have done. For
certainly, sir, so many other abilities that are united in the young
man, had taken and put him upon some other studies, than this
of languages, if this small imperfection had not accompanied it :
and instead of one mother tongue, he hath gained twenty-four ;
a full recompence I take it to be." " Well," said the king, " you
have somewhat to the purpose, my lord." Then said my lord of
Holland, " He should do well to carry always in his mouth some
small pebble stones, that would (help) him much." " Nay, nay,"

234 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

said the king, " I have tried that 5, but it helps not. I will tell
him the best and surest way is to take good deliberation at first,
and not to be too sudden in speech. And let him also learn to
sing, that will do well." Then said one of the lords to Nicholas
Ferrar, " Do you not learn to sing, and music also ?" He replied
he did. So humble reverence done, Nicholas Ferrar going
away, my lord of Canterbury stepped to Nicholas Ferrar and
told him, he must not fail to come to Lambeth, and call
for his letter in the morning, for bishop Duppa, the prince's
tutor.

This was done next morning ; and so in a coach with four
horses, Nicholas Ferrar went to Richmond, with some other com-
pany of his friends. Coming to Richmond, the bishop's secretary
acquainted his lord, of a letter sent to him by the lord of Canter-
bury. The bishop was then with the prince, who coming from
him, Nicholas Ferrar delivered him the letter. The contents
read, he imbraced Nicholas Ferrar, who kneeled down to crave
his blessing, and kiss his hands. Nicholas Ferrar was called for
to come in to the prince, who gave him his hand to kiss. He
presented the book unto him. The prince hastily opened it, say-
ing, " Here's a gallant outside :" gave it then to the bishop : he
read the title-page and frontis-piece. Then the prince took it,
and turning it all over, leaf by leaf, said, " Better and better."
The courtiers that stood about him, demanded how he liked that
rare piece. " Well, well, very," said he. " It pleaseth me exceed-
ingly ; and I wish daily to read in it." So many questions were
asked and answered. And the little duke of York, having also
seen the book, and fine pictures in it, came to Nicholas Ferrar,
and said unto him, " Will you not make me also such another

5 / have tried that.] The king here alludes to the imperfections of his own
utterance : respecting which an interesting circumstance is recorded by sir
Philip Warwick. He is speaking of a critical season; the three days of
Charles's appearance on his trial before the regicides.

" The king's deportment was very majestic and steady ; and though his
tongue usually hesitated yet it was free at this time ; for he was never dis-
composed in mind." — Memoirs, p. 339.

His elder brother, prince Henry, had suffered under a similar imperfection.

" His speech," says sir Charles Cornwallis, treasurer of his household,
" was slow and somewhat impedimented. . . . Oftentimes he would say of
himself, that he had the most unserviceahle tongue of any man living."— Dis-
course of the most illustrious prince Henry, &c. Harleian Miscellany, vol. iv.
p. 339, 40.

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 235

fine book ? I pray you do it." Nicholas Ferrar replied, his grace
should not fail to have one made for him also. But said the
duke, " How long will it be before I have it?" " With all good
speed," said Nicholas Ferrar. " But how long time will that be ?
I pray tell the gentle-women at Gidding, I will heartily thank
them, if they will dispatch it." (For he had heard Nicholas
Ferrar tell the prince, who questioned with him, who bound the
book so finely, and made it so neatly and stately, and had laid on
all the pictures so curiously ; that it was done by the art and
hands of his kins- women at Gidding.) All the courtiers standing
by, heartily laughed to see the duke's earnestness, who would
have no nay ; but a promise speedily to have one made for him 6,
like his brother's. The prince at last went to dinner, expressing
much joy at his book.

The bishop took Nicholas Ferrar by the hand, and with great
demonstration of favour led him into a room, where divers young
lords were, the duke of Buckingham and others, who sitting down
to dinner, the bishop placed Nicholas Ferrar by the table at his
side. The bishop demanded many questions at table concerning
Gidding, to which he received satisfaction ; saying, my lord of
Canterbury's letters had informed him of what had passed before
the king at White Hall ; and of the rare pieces which were
shewed the king, whereof he said he hoped one day to have the
happiness to see them ; and said, " This present given the prince
was very acceptable, and he made no question but the prince would
receive not only much pleasure in it, but great good by it in every
kind."

After dinner ended, and other courtiers come to talk with
Nicholas Ferrar, the bishop departed the room, and not long
after came in again ; took Nicholas Ferrar by the hand, and car-
ried him into a room, where the prince was, the duke, and divers
court ladies looking upon the book. The bishop after a while
told the prince what books were presented to the king his father,
at White Hall. The prince demanded to see them also : but the
bishop said they were left there. " Ah," said he, "I would you
had brought them, that I might also have seen those rare things."
So after many questions demanded and answered, it growing late,
Nicholas Ferrar craved leave to depart; and humbly bowing

6 One made for him.'] In the margin it is added, " The book which was
made and printed for the duke never had opportunity to be presented to his
grace. It is yet still at Gidding."

236 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

himself to the prince, the prince rose up, and came towards him,
and moving his hat, the bishop standing by him, said, u I am
much beholden to you, for the jewel you have given rne, and for
the contrivement of it ; and to the Gidding gentlewomen, that
have taken so much pains about it, to make it so curious a piece."
Then putting his hand into his pocket, he pulled out a handful of
twenty shillings pieces of gold, saying (Nicholas Ferrar stepping
back), " Nay, I do not give you this as any reward in recompence
of your book, for I esteem it every way above much gold ; and
prize it at a far greater rate. Only you shall take this as a pre-
sent testimony of my acceptance of it, and my esteem of you. I
shall study how I may in the future let all know how much I
deem of your worth, and the book :" and so gave him his handful
of gold. And so Nicholas Ferrar departing, divers courtiers
would needs accompany him to his coach, and the bishop down
stairs. And so, with great demonstration of much civility they
parted, the bishop willing his secretary to accompany him to the
coach.

Saturday morning repair was made to the bishop of Canterbury,
to let him know what had passed at Richmond ; for so he had
given order ; who said he much longed to know what entertain-
ment was given to the book, and person. He liked all well that
passed, and said he was right glad, that things went as he hoped ;
and should acquaint the king with all. Then taking Nicholas
Ferrar's father aside, he said, " Let your care now cease for your
hopeful son, or for his future preferment, or estate, or present
maintenance. God hath so inclined the king's heart, and his
liking to your son, and the gifts God hath indued him with ; :md
having been informed of his virtuous, pious education, and singular
industry and Christian deportment, and of his sober inclination,
that he will take him from you into his own protection and car--.
and make him his scholar and servant ; and hath given me order,
that after the holidays being past, I should send him to Oxford ;
and that there he shall be maintained in all things needful for
him at the king's proper charge; and shall not (need) what he
can desire, to further him in the prosecution of these works he
hath begun in matter of lan^ua^es : and what help of books, or
h»-ads, or hands he shall require, he shall not be unfurnished with ;
for the king would have this work of the New Te>tament. in
t \\enty-fnur lan^uaiM'-. t<» be accomplished by his care andas>i>t
ance ; and to have the help of all the learned men that can

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 237

had, to that end. Assure yourself he shall want nothing. In a
word the king is greatly in love with him : and you will, and
have cause to bless and praise God for such a son." So John
Ferrar being ravished with joy, in all humble manner gave thanks
to my lord's grace. And they returning to Nicholas Ferrar, my
lord embraced him, and gave him his benediction. Nicholas
Ferrar kneeling down, took the bishop by the hand, and kissed
it. He took him up in his arms, and laid his hand to his cheek,
and earnestly besought God Almighty to bless him, and increase
all graces in him, and fit him every day more and more for an
instrument of his glory here upon earth, and a saint in heaven ;
" which," said he, " is the only happiness that can be desired,
and ought to be our chief end in all our actions. God bless you !
God bless you ! I have told your father, what is to be done for
you, after the holidays. God will provide for you, better than
your father can: — God bless you! and keep you!" So they
parted from his grace.

But he never saw him more ! for within a few days after 7,
Nicholas Ferrar fell ill : and on Easter day he was desirous,
being next morning (having found himself not well the day
before) to receive the communion at Paul's, whither he went
early in the morning, and communicated ; and returning home,
had little appetite to his dinner, eating little or nothing. He
went yet to a sermon in the afternoon ; but at night grew some-
what worse. And on Monday morning, his father with all care
and diligence went to a learned physician, who came and visited
him, and gave him what he thought fitting ; but he grew worse
and worse. Then was another physician joined to the first.
They consulted, and prescribed things for him, but he mended
not; but with great patience and chearfulness did bear his
sickness, and was very comfortable in it to all that came to visit
him, wholly referring himself to God's good will and pleasure ;
only telling his friends, and the bishop of Peterborough, doctor
Towers, that loved him dearly, and came to visit him twice in
that short time, that he was no way troubled to die, and to go to
heaven, where he knew was only peace and quiet and joys per-
manent, whereas all things in the world were but trouble and
vexation : and death must be the end of all men ; and he that
went soonest to heaven, was the happiest man. The bishop

7 A few days after.'] " Easter-Eve." Margin of the manuscript.

2.38 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

would say, when he went away, and had a long time talked with
him, that Nicholas Ferrar was better prepared to die than he,
and was a true child of God : and could comfort himself in God,
without directions from him, or others : that his pious education
under his pious uncle of blessed memory, his old and dear friend,
was now shewed forth in these his so young years, that they had
taken mighty root downward, and in his soul, and now sprang up
with not only leaves and fair blossoms, but with good and ripe
fruit of heavenly matters. It joyed his heart to see him so dis-
posed to God-ward, and to so willingly leave the world, and the
late testimonies of worth, that he had received from the b<
the land. That sure he was too good longer to stay here. God
would take him to heaven ; and willed his father to prepare for
his departure ; and to take it with all thankfulness to God ;
and not look what himself he might think had here lost on
earth, but to that crown which his good son, by the mercies
of God, and merits of his Saviour, he was persuaded would
soon enjoy in heaven. " He is too good ; he is too good,"
said he, "to live longer in these ill approaching times. For
there is much fear now that the glory of church and state is at
the highest/1 For then tumults began : and the bishop of
Canterbury's house at Lambeth 8, was one night assaulted by a
rabble of lewd people ; which when Nicholas Ferrar was told one
morning, as he lay in his sick bed, " Alas ! alas ! " said he, " God
help his church, and poor England ! I now fear indeed, what
my dear uncle said before he died, is at hand, that evil days were
coming, and happy were they that went to heaven before they
came. Can or will the insolency of such a rabble be unpunished ?
It is high time that supreme authority take care of these growing
evils. God amend all ! Truly, truly, it troubles me/' And wlu-n
at other times some friend would say to him. " Good cousin,
are you not grieved to leave this world ; you are now so young,
and in the flower of your youth and hopes ?" He would cheerfully
answer, " No, truly ; I leave all to God's good will and pleasure,
that is my best father, and knoweth what is best for me. Alas ! I
am too young to be mine own judge, what is best for me, to die

8 At Lambeth.'] In the church-warden's accounts of the parish of Lamlu-th
in this year, 1640, is the following entry :

" May 8th, Paide for trayning when the mutinie was in Lambeth

againest the archbishopp £1 o <>."

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 239

or live ; but let all be, as God's will is. If I live, I desire it may
be to his further glory, and mine own soul's good, and the
comfort and service, that I intend to be to my father, that loves
me so dearly, and in his old age to be his servant. If I die, I
hope my father will submit all to God's will and pleasure, and
rejoice at my happiness in heaven, where by the merits of my
blessed Lord and Saviour, I know I shall go out of this wretched
life." In this manner, and upon the visits of friends, he would
discourse ; and the bishop came to him two days before he
died, and found him most cheerful to die, and to be with God, as
he would say to him ; who gave him absolution, and with many
tears departed, saying to his father, " God give you consolation ;
and prepare yourself to part with your good son. He will, in a
few hours, I think, go to a better world : for he is no way for
this, that I see, by his body and by his soul. Be of good comfort ;
you give him but again to him, that gave him you for a season."
And in two days after, God took him away ; who died praying
and calling upon God, " Lord Jesus receive my soul ! Lord
receive it!" Amen.

This following EPITAPH will more at large inform the reader
concerning Nicholas Ferrar junior, his life and death, briefly thus
expressed by a friend of his, Mr. Mark Frank, once fellow of
Pembroke Hall in Cambridge.

Lector,

quisquis es

f vel sortis humanae "|

quern < vel elusse spei > miseret,

[_ vel ereptse virtutis J
Siste te paulum ad hoc lachrymarum monumentum,

Sepulchrum Nicolai
generosse Ferrarorum families hseredis ;

piissimi illius Nicolai,

quern ipse orbis admiratur

tanquam unicum integree virtutis domicilium,

Charissimi nepotis :
Londini, si patriam quseris, oriundi,
Geddingce Parva, juxta Venantodunum, educati.

Juvenis nimirum
qui, inter privatas illas solitudines,

Stupenda sua indole actus
Ipsum sibi Academiam habuit.

240 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

Qui ad vicesimam tertiam linguara
vix tutorem habuit, vix indiguit,

vix annos petiit ;
Et tamen annorum numerum linguis duabiis

superavit :
tngenio quam annis major.

iGrammatica, Necessitati,
Historia, Otio,
Philosophia, Studio, I f ..
Mathematica, Voluptati, '
Musica, Pietati,
Theologia, Praxi,

Qui

eleganti, admiranda potius industria

in sacris concinnandis Harmon iis

(quibus ne verbum aut superesse

aut deesse Evangelistis ostenditur)

Regi et Aulae cognitus
Et doctrinae simul et religionis specimen dedit.

f Precibua "I
Qui < Jejuniis > crebris,

(

f Precibus "1
li < Jejuniis >
I Vigiliis J

Abstiiientia perpetua

vel a primo decennio Deo inserviit

Familiae suae et exemplum, et solatium pietatis ;

summae erga parentes obedientiae,

singularis erga amicos amicitiae,

eximiae erga omnes humanitatis,

profusae erga pauperes benignitatis,

Verbis, Veste, Vita, sobrius, modestus, humilimus,

C ParentumVota 1

Qui in omnibus \ Amicorum Spem f longe post se reliquit.
*• Omnium Fidem ^

Nee hie stetit ;

dum majora adhuc anhelans

nullum studiis suis statuerat

nisi Universae Naturae terminum.

Sed Natura praepropere terminum posuit

ne deesset tandem velocissimo ingenio

quod evolveret.

Libentissimi hie assensit

ut mens, nondum satiata scientiis

inveniret in Deo quod in terris non potuit.

Inde est

Amicorum dolori, reipublicae literariae damno,
Spei humanse confusioni, gloriae tamen suap

quod hinc abiit
vel ad Doctorum vel Virginum Chorum,

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 241

Anno

Regis Carol! XVI0.
.Etatis s\i3d XXI0.

Christ! MDCXL

Die Maii XIX0.

There was found amongst other papers in his study this follow-
ing; in this manner, that all might be printed in one book
together, at one view to be seen, in two pages of the book, as it
opened, twenty-five on one side, twenty-five on the other.

Novum Domini Nostri Jesu Christ!

Testamentum,

Lingua

1. Hebraica. 26. Anglica.

2. Syriaca. 27. Saxonica.

3. Aj-abica. 28. Italica.

4. Chaldaica. 29. Gallica.

5. ^Ethiopica. 30. Hispanica.

6. Samaritanica. 31. Belgica.

7. Armenica. 32. Gothica.

8. Cophtica. 33. Vandalica.

9. Sclavonica. 34. Estonica.

10. Moscovitica. 35. Prutenica.

11. Grseca. 36. Jazigica.

12. Latina. 37. Illyrica.

13. Carabro-Britannica. 38. Epirotica.

14. Hibernica. 39. Persica.

15. Monica. 40. Georgiana.

16. Hungarica. 41. Turcica.

17. Cantabrica. 42. Tartarica.

18. Cauchica. 43. Jacobitica.

19. Wallaccica. 44. Indica orientali.

20. Rhaetica. 45. Japonica.

21. Islandica. 46. Danica.

22. Swedica. 47. Polonica.

23. Finennica. 48. Bohemica.

24. Livonica. 49. Lusatica.

25. Germanica. 50. Indica Occident, vel Americana.

This by the help of God I intend to effect: and also to translate the
Church Catechism into these languages; so likewise the 117 psalm,
" Praise the Lord all ye heathens : praise him all ye nations," and pre-
sent them to the king, that he may print them, and send them to all
nations, &c.

VOL. IV. Jl

242 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

7. SEVENTH WORK.

The whole law of God, as it is delivered in the five books of Moses,
methodically distributed into three great classes, moral, ceremonial, political.
And each of these again subdivided into several heads as the variety of
matter requires ; wherein each particular subject dispersedly related in the
forenamed books, is reduced to the proper head and place whereunto it
belongeth. Containing in all three hundred thirty-three heads : also every
head of the political law is reduced to that precept of the moral law, to which
it properly belongs ; likewise there are sundry treatises, shewing in what,
and how, divers of the ceremonial laws were shadows and types of the
Messiah that was to come. And also in what Adam, Abel, Noah, Abram,
Isaac, Joseph, Moses, Aaron, Joshua, Gideon, Jephtha, Samson, David,
Solomon and his Temple, Elisha, Job, Daniel, Jonah, the pillar fire, the Red
Sea, the rock, and manna, were all figures of our Lord and blessed Saviour
J. Christ.

With an harmony of all the prophets, foretelling the birth, life, and death
of Jesus Christ that was to come ; to confirm the Christian and convince the
Jew : together with a discourse of the twelve stones in Aaron's pectoral, their
several virtues, &c.

As also an harmonical parallel between the types of the O. Testament,
and the four Evangelists' relations concerning our dear Lord and Saviour,
respectively prefigured by the holy prophets, and other sacred writers.
Moreover there are divers treatises showing how, and in what manner, times
and places, the several promises and threatenings, foretold by Moses, did
accordingly befal the Jews : with the fulfilling also of our Saviour's prophecy
in the destruction of their city and temple, and the desolation of the land of
Jewry : with the miseries which the Jews have sustained under many nations,
and in particular here in England, France, Spain, Germany, &c. and their
strange dispositions, and God's judgment on them to this day.

All to testify the truth of the Divine Oracles.

This work is also set forth with abundance of pictures, the better to express
the stories and contents of it.

This precedent work, called the Seventh piece, was also contrived in
Nicholas Ferrar's lifetime, and a draught of it made, though not altogether 9
with the additions and annexations to it : but was after his death contrived
fully, as in the manner before set down : and made for the prince's use, to
be presented to him, by the advice of some judicious and learned friends,
that held it a work worthy of his acceptance, and might be both of pleasure
and contentment, and useful to him in many kinds.

9 Though not altogether.'] " But in his lifetime, he gave one in this kind to
the bishop of Canterbury, containing only the first part of the whole Law of
God. This the bishop sent to the university Library of Oxford, where
there it is to be now seen, bound up, and so done by the hands of the
Virgins of (Jiddinir. in green velvet, fairly bound and gilt." Marginal note
in the MS.

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 243

It so happened that in the year 1 642 the troubles in this land
began to grow to height ; and the king and prince were forced
by the disorders at London to repair to York. And the king
lodging with the prince and some other nobility at Huntingdon
one night, 'the next day afternoon it was his gracious pleasure to
come and honour Little Gidding with his royal presence, the
prince attending him, the palsgrave, the duke of Lennox, and
divers other nobles ; and where his majesty staid some hours.

First he went to view the chapel, and was pleased to express
his good liking of it, saying, it was a fine neat thing. " But,"
said he, " where are those images, &c. so much talked of?" An-
swer was made, " Such as his majesty now beheld it, was all that
ever was there seen, or in it." He smiling said to the duke and
palsgrave, " I knew it full well, that never any were in it. But
what will not malice invent ?" One lord said, " It was affirmed
to me, that there was a cross in one of the windows in painted
glass." Answer was made, " Never any, but that, if so they
meant it, that was upon the crown, that there was placed upon
the lion's head, that did, in the west window at the entry into the
church over the door, stand, where the king's arms l were placed
in painted glass, and the lion that supported the arms had on the
crown he wore on his head a little cross, as was ever used in the
king's arms and supporters : and this was all the crosses that
ever were seen in Gidding church ; or any other painted glass or
pictures." The king looking up upon it, said, " What strange
reports are in the world ! " So the prince, palsgrave and duke all
smiled ; and the duke said, " Envy was quick-sighted.'1'' — " Nay,"
said the palsgrave, " can see what is not"

Then the king was pleased to go into the house, and demanded
where the great book was that he had heard was made for
Charles's use. It was soon brought unto him ; and the largeness
and weight of it was such that he that carried it seemed to be
well laden. Which the duke observing, said, " Sir, one of your
strongest guard will but be able to carry this book." It being
laid on the table before the king, it was told him, that though it
were then fairly bound up in purple velvet, that the outside was
not fully finished, as it should be, for the prince's use and better
liking. " Well," said the king, " it is very well done." So he
opened the book, the prince standing at the table's end, and the
palsgrave and duke on each side of the king. The king read the

1 King's arms.'] See note in vol. iii. p. 233.
R 2

244 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

title-page and frontispiece all over very deliberately: and well
viewing the form of it, and how adorned with a stately garnish of
pictures, &c. and the curiousness of the writing of it, said,
" Charles, here is a book that contains excellent things. This
will make you both wise and good." Then he proceeded to turn
it over leaf by leaf, and took exact notice of all in it : and it being
full of pictures of sundry men's cuts, he could tell the palsgrave,
who seemed also to be knowing in that kind 2, that this and this,
and that and that, were of such a man's graving and invention.
The prince all the while greatly eyed all things, and seemed
much to be pleased with the book. The king having spent some
hours in the perusal of it, and demanding many questions,
occasion was, concerning the contrivement of it, having received
answers to all he demanded, at length said, " It was only a
jewel for a prince : and hoped Charles would make good use of
it. And I see and find by what I have myself received for-
merly from this good house, that they go on daily in the prosecu-
tion of these excellent pieces. They are brave employments of
their time." The palsgrave said to the prince, " Sir, your father
the king is master of the goodliest ship in the world ; and I may
now say, you will be master of the gallantest greatest book in the
world. For I never saw such paper before ; and believe there is
no book of this largeness to be seen in Christendom." " The
paper and the book in all conditions," said the king, " I believe
is not to be matched. Here hath also in this book not wanted,
you see, skill, care, nor cost." " It is a most admirable piece,"
replied the duke of Richmond. So the king closing the book,
said, " Charles this is yours." He replied, " But, sir, shall I
not now have it with me?" Reply was made by one of the

" Knowing in that kind.'] " It is a trite observation, that gunpowder was
discovered by a monk, and printing by a soldier. It is an additional honour
to the latter profession to have invented mezzotinto. . . . Born with the taste of
an uncle, whom his sword was not fortunate in defending, prince Rupert was
fond of those sciences which soften and adorn a hero's private hours ; and knew
how to mix them with his minutes of amusement, without dedicating his life to
their pursuit, like us, who, wanting capacity for momentous views, make serious
study of what is only the transitory occupation of a genius. Had the court
of the first Charles been peaceful, how agreeably had the prince's congenial
prosperity flattered and confirmed the inclination of his uncle. How the
muse of arts would have repaid the patronage of the monarch, when for his
first artist she would have presented him with his nephew /"—Horace
Walpole's Catalogue of Engravers, &c. edit. 1786. p. 133-5.

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 245

family, " If it please your highness, the book is not on the out-
side so finished as it is intended for you ; but shall be, with all
expedition, done, and you shall have it." " Well," said the king,
" you must content yourself for a while."

The palsgrave, who had left the king discoursing, had stepped
into the other room by, and there seen the poor alms widows
rooms, which were built for them. He then comes to the king,
saying, " Sir, you shall, if you please to go with me, see another
good thing, that will like you well." So the king and prince
followed him, and the duke. So being come into the widows
rooms, which were handsomely wainscotted, and four beds in
them, after the Dutch manner of their alms houses, all along the
walls ; the room being rubbed, and cleanly kept, the king looking
well about him, and upon all things said, " Truly this is worth
the sight. I did not think to have seen a thing in this kind,
that so well pleaseth me. God's blessing be upon the founders
of it ! Time was," speaking to the palsgrave, " that you would
have thought such a lodging not amiss." " Yea, sir," said he,
" and happy I had had it full often." So some questions the
king asked about the widows, &c. and going out of the room
into a long arbour in the garden, the duke following him, he put
his hand into his pocket, and took out of it five pieces in gold
saying to the duke, " Let these be given to the poor widows. It
is all I have, else they should have more ;" (these he had won
the night before of the palsgrave at cards at Huntingdon) " and
will them to pray for me."

While the king was walking, and talking, and commending the
fine and pleasant situation of the house upon a little hill, which
it stood upon, to divers about him, saying, " Gidding is a happy
place in many respects ; I am glad I have seen it." The young
lords had gone into the buttery, and there found apple-pies and
cheese-cakes, and came out with pieces in their hands into the
parlour, to the prince, and merrily said, " Sir, will your highness
taste ; it is a good apple-pye as ever we eat." The prince
laughed heartily at them : so wine was brought. The king came
in, saying, " It grows late : the sun is going down : we must
away." So their horses were brought to the door. The king
mounting, those of the family, men and women, all kneeled down,
and heartily prayed God to bless and defend him from his ene-
mies ; and give him a long and happy reign. He lifting up his
hand to his hat, replied, " Pray, pray for my speedy and safe
return again." So the prince also took horse, and away they went.

246 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

And as the king rode through the grounds, he espied a hare
sitting, and then called to the duke for his piece, which he car-
ried ; and as he sat on horse-back killed the hare ; but not so
dead, but she ran a little way. But the prince, seeing her rise
up, skipped off his horse, and ran after her through two or three
furrows of water, and caught her, and laughing shewed her to the
king. And away they went : but it was late before they got to
Stamford that night.

I had forgot to relate, that the king, a mile before he came at
the house, seeing it stand upon a hill, demanded of sir Capel
Beedells3, who then waited upon him, and sir Richard Stone, the
high sheriff, whom he knighted the evening before, when he came
into Huntingdon, what house that was that stood so pleasantly.
They told him, Little Gidding. " Is that it ? I must go and visit
it. Doth not our way lie beneath it ?" They said, " Aye.1'
Those of the family of Little Gidding, out of their windows,
seeing the king's company afar off, coming that way, they all
went down the hill, to the end of the lordship, and at the bridge
attended the king's coming that way, as most desirous to see him
and to kiss his hands. When the king came near them, he asked
sir Capel who those people were ? He said the Ferrars' and
Colletts' family that dwelt at Gidding. So the king approaching
foremost of all, they went all to meet him ; and kneeling down
prayed God to bless and preserve his majesty, and keep him safe
from all his enemies' malice. The king gave them all, as they
passed by, his hand to kiss. The prince seeing that, came gal-
loping up, and did the like. Some of them went to kiss the
palsgrave's hand, but he refused. But turning to the duke, and
the other young lords, he said, " These ladies will not so soon get
up the hill again. Come, let us take them up behind us." And
so he came to persuade them. But they excused themselves, and
made haste up the hill. The king rode on purpose a foot pace
up the hill, talking with sir Capel and Mr. Hill, and demanding
many questions.

And this is what then happened at the presenting of this book,
which ever since hath been preserved at Gidding, and attends the
happy hour to be delivered into the right owner's hand ; which
God Almighty grant in his due time !

Amen, Amen, Amen.

3 Beedclls.'] Sir Capel Bedell, or Beedells (of Hamerton, in Huntingdon-
shire, t\vo miles from Little Gidding) was created a baronet in 1622. He
died 8. p. in 1663.

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 247

Nicholas Ferrar, in a paper found in his study, thus writes
in it : —

" The king of England (he would say) had more several languages spoken
by the subjects of his dominions than any king in Christendom : and there-
fore deserved to have a Bible of many languages, above other princes.

f ' There are twelve spoken in his dominions.

"1. English, spoken in England, and a good part of Scotland: those, I
mean, that lie next to England. It is chiefly compounded of the Saxon,
French, and Latin.

" 2. Scottish, spoken more northerly in Scotland. It retains more of the
old Saxon, and is not mingled with so many French words, as English is.
Bishop Douglas translated Virgil into this dialect.

" 3. Welsh, spoken in Wales.

" 4. Cornish, spoken in Cornwall. It is a dialect of the Welsh, but very
various.

"5. Irish, spoken in Ireland.

"6. Scot- Irish, a dialect of Irish; and is spoken in the Hebrides, islands
lying on the West of Scotland.

" 7. Hethyan. Hethy is an island of the Orcades, in which is spoken a
language, which is a dialect of the Gothish or Norwegian.

" 8. There is in Pembrokeshire in Wales, a country called Little Eng-
land beyond Wales. They use a language compounded of the Dutch and
Welsh.

" 9. In the islands of Guernsey and Jersey they speak a corrupt kind of
French, somewhat like the Walloon, which the Belgee qui non teutonizant
speak.

" 10. In the famous Isle of Man is spoken a language that is compounded
of Welsh, Irish, Norwegian, but most Irish words.

" This island deserves, and the people of it, a perpetual memorial, for
many excellent things in it : which I cannot but thus briefly touch, in regard
that my learned and pious uncle Nicholas Ferrar, of blessed memory, who
had seen many parts of the world, would highly commend it, as a happy
place to live in. For he would say, it were to be wished, and happy it were
for England, that the same manner for law were here used, being a speedy
and right way of justice, the soul of a kingdom, &c. That there were no
beggars found in that island : that the inhabitants were most honest and
religious, loving their pastors, to whom they use much reverence and
respect ; they frequenting duly divine service, without division in the church
or innovation in the commonwealth. They detest the disorders, as well civil
as ecclesiastical, of neighbour nations. And the women of this country, to
their no small commendation, whenever they go out of the doors, gird them-
selves about with that winding-sheet, that they purpose to be buried in, to
shew themselves perpetually mindful of their mortality. O rare example
to all!

"11. The languages spoken by the savages in the Virginian
plantation. I These in the

"12. That other kind also spoken in New England by C New World."
those savages." J

248 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

Also there was another paper that named all the mother tongues, with
their daughters, which as yet I cannot find : but hope I shall ; and then
(will it be) here underneath to be added. Sir, you know I did once shew
it you in his study, with the other works before-mentioned, and these that
follow.

8. EIGHTH WORK ; prepared but not begun. Materials only prepared, and
a model drawn of it.

Glory be to God on High.

The New Testament of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, in twenty-six
languages, with Arabick, Syriac, Greek, all interpreted, word for word, with
Latin ; likewise Hebrew, Chaldee, Samaritan, Arabick, Syriac and Greek, all
having their several Latin translations lying opposite to them ; which six
languages are taken out of that most rare and accomplished Bible of the
king of France, lately come forth, and as the French report, at the expence
of very many thousand pounds, and great pains taken in it, and no few years
spent to finish it. All these twenty-six languages are so composed and
ordered, that at one view they may be seen and read, with much ease and
pleasure as well as to use and benefit. The several twenty- six languages are
those that follow :

1. Hebrew. 14. English- Saxon.

2. Syriack. 15. German.

3. Greek. 16. Danish.

4. Arabick. 17. Swedish.

5. Chaldee. 18. Low Dutch.

6. Samaritan. 19. English.

7. ^Ethiopian. 20. Welsh.

8. Sclavonian. 21. Irish.

9. Hungarian. 22. Latin.

10. Cantabrian. 23. Italian.

11. Muscovian. 24. Spanish.

12. Polonian. 25. French.

13. Bohemian. 26. Portugall.

And moreover there are twelve several English translations ; twenty
various Latin translations ; three Italian ; three Spanish ; three French ;
three High Dutch; and three Netherlands. And all these4 also so placed,

4 And all these.] " But these several translations are since resolved to be
omitted, and in the place and stead of them, some other thing of more use
and consequence there placed, and more suitable to this work."

" Since this frontispiece was contrived, and the model of the work framed,
it is by the advice and counsel of second thoughts (determined) that in the
place and stead of the twelve several English translations, the twenty various,
&c. there shall be placed now either a Concordance of the Four Evangelists,
according to that first pattern you have seen and read, being the first work
done at Gidding, and presented to the king, and set forth with pictures ; or
that in that place of the several translations, if no Concordance be there

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 249

ordered, and contrived that the eye may discern them at one time, and
peruse them all with great content : and for the conclusion of the work there
is added at the end of the book, that of doctor Fulke, intitled, " A Defence
of the sincere and true translation of the Holy Scripture in the English
tongue, against the manifold cavils, and insolent slanders of Gregory Martin,
one of the translators of the Rhemish Bible :" and theirs and ours compared
together in two several columns. And the Lord's Prayer is also annexed in
three-score several languages. Laus Deo.

Of this eighth piece the model and form was contrived to be as
you have seen on the foregoing page in that manner. But these
sad times coming on a-main gave an obstruction to the proceed-
ings and attempt, so that it hath lain still till this year 1 65 — .
And now it hath so fallen out 5 that, (to the honour of those
worthy learned men, that have by their great care and diligence
set it on foot,) the printing of the Holy Bible in eight several
languages is designed here in England ; the which work in many
respects is like to pass that Bible both of the king of Spain's,
and the aforenamed king of France's : in which regard it is now
thought fitting to defer this model, and intended work, till that
our Bible be finished. And then by the good blessing of God,
and the help of some of those active hands, that are yet alive,
who were instruments of the other many precedent works, as you
have heard, this may in a good hour be begun, and by the
help of God and good friends brought into light and finished.
So contriving it by that neat way of pasting upon mighty large
paper, provided for the same purpose, without which it cannot be
effected, that these twenty-six or twenty-eight several languages
may be, upon the opening of the book, all seen and read with
much profitableness and no less pleasure. A book it will be that

placed, then doctor Hammond's, that learned man's, Comments lately
printed, shall be placed, and brought into this book, as a necessary and pro-
fitable jewel, to be interwoven into the book, as the model drawn doth justly
declare to the eye. Glory be to God on high : Peace on earth : Good will
amongst men. Amen." Marginal note in the MS.

6 So fallen out J] The printing of the Polyglot, an illustrious monument of
zeal and learning, erected to the glory of their country by bishop Walton,
and other episcopal divines, in times of great distress and persecution, began
in 1653, and was finished in 1657. The first printed proposals respecting it
were issued in the year 1652.

250 NICHOLAS FERRAR.

hath not its parallel or match in the whole world, and may well
become, as many learned men say that have seen the model of it,
the best library in the Christian world, and a jewel not misbe-
seeming the greatest potentate's study. God Almighty give both
means and heads and hands to effect it : to whom must be the
glory, praise and honour ! Amen, Amen, Amen c.

c Here end the extracts from the Lambeth MS. No. 251.

APPENDIX.

MR. JOHN FERRAR, author of the old MS. frequently referred
to, wrote to Ed. Lenton, Esq. of Notley, enquiring whether a
letter from him formerly written to Serjt. Hetley, was not the
groundwork of a libellous pamphlet *, entitled, The Arminian
Nunnery, at Little Gidding in Huntingdonshire. Mr. Lenton's
answer and vindication of himself, as follows, is dated Oct. 27,
the year not specified, but it was 1642 :

Sir,

If your messenger had staid but one night longer, I would not
have delayed my answer to your so discrete and respectful a
letter ; which makes me wish we were better acquainted, in
hopes to confirm your good and charitable opinion of me.

Sir, I confess I should much degenerate from my birth (being
a gentleman), my breeding (well known to the world), and the
religion I profess ; if having, upon something a bold visit, been
entertained in your family with kind and civil respects, I should
requite it with such scorn and calumny as this libellous pamphlet
seems to insinuate.

Sir, my conceit of it is, that, in this time of too much liberty
(if not licentiousness) of the press, many ballad-makers and
necessitous persons (it may be, set on work by some printers
themselves, to promote their trade) distil their barren brains to
make provision for their empty bellies, by publishing such novel-
ties and fictions as they think will vent best ; and, when they have
spent their own little wit, borrow of others to eke it out ; and so,
enterlacing some shreds of their own, they patch up a penny
pamphlet, to serve for their morning's draught.

Of this strain I take this book to be. The ground whereof

1 Libellous pamphlet.'] See the note at p. 208.

252 APPENDIX :

(you doubt, but I doubt not) was the letter I writt to Sir Thomas
Hettley (many years since) upon his request, that, in my passage
from him to my lord Montague's, being by your house, I would
see and certify what I could in so short a stay, touching the
various reports divulged in most places of your religious rites and
ceremonies.

To which my true relation (which I am sorry and marvel how
it should light in such hucksters-hands) the pamphleteer, by his
additions and subtractions, interweaving truth with falsehood to
purchase some credit to his untruths, hath drawn conclusions
and accusations of Arminianism and other fopperies, not once
mentioned in my letter ; but, as wisely as that atheist, who,
to prove there was no God, vouched one end of a verse
where David in his psalms saith, There is no God ; and left out
the beginning of the verse, That the fool hath said it in his

By this time, sir, I hope you see I am so far from being the
author, infuser, abettor or countenancer of this fable, that, by it
I take myself to be as much abused, and that there is as much
aspersion cast upon me as upon your family, by a sly and cun-
ning intimation (my letter being his ground-work) to make me
thought (by such as know me not well) to be the author and
divulger of his lies and scandals, which (by God^s mercy) my soul
abhors.

Had he shewed his dislike of some of the ceremonies, &c. (as I
myself did, by way of argument) I should not (nor, I think, you)
so much have kindled at it. But so to add to, subtract, pervert,
and falsify my letter, I think the author (if haply he may be found
out) deserves to be censured as a counterfeiter of false letters
and tokens, and as a contriver and publisher of false news,
according to the law of the land and the statutes in like case
provided.

His ignorance (which yet excuseth not a toto, if a tanto) I
think will be his best plea. For, it should seem, he is no great
clerk. Which I observe even almost at the beginning of his story,
\\ h» -re he tells a tale as of a third person, and in the same clause,
within two or three lines after, ineptly changeth it into the first
person; without any apt transition. A solecism which a in< an
scholar would hardly have fallen into.

To have put the true copy of my letter in print, without my
privity, had been a great inhumanity. But, to pervert it with so

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 253

many falsifications, and laying his inhumanities on me, I think,
none but a licentious libeller, or a beggarly ballad-maker, would
have offered.

I was so conscious to myself of intending no wrong to your
family in my relation, that I thought to have sent your brother
[N. F .] a copy thereof ; and had done it, if want of opportunity
in his lifetime, and his death afterwards, had not prevented me.
And I would now send you a true copy thereof, if you had not
wrote to me, that you had it presently after my writing it. And
sith I have been at your house long since (for it is about seven
years past, as I take it, that I writ the relation) I presume you
would have expostulated the matter with me, if you had taken
any just exception or distaste at it. But therein you might well
perceive, that I endeavoured not to detract any thing from you,
or to conceal even the civility or humility I found, or what I had
heard or believed of your works of charity.

Thus, sir, even the very same day I received your's (for there
needs no long time to answer a matter of fact with matter of
truth ; and being full of indignation to be thus traduced, whereof
I longed instantly to discharge myself) I scribled over this candid
and ingenuous answer. And I am now troubled that you gave
me no direction for the address thereof to you ; which, when haply
you shall receive, I leave to your own discretion, to make what
use thereof you please ; presuming that you will therein have the
like respects to me which herein I have had to you. So leaving
us to the guidance of our good God, I subscribe, as you to me,
your friend and servant,

ED. LENTON.

Notley, near Thame^ Oct. 27.

To the worshipful my worthily esteemed friend
John Ferrar, Esq. at his house in Little
Gidding in Huntingdonshire.

The copy of my letter to sir Thomas Hetley, kt. and ser-
jeant at law, upon his request to certify as I found.

Good Mr. Serjeant5.

I can give you but a short account of my not two hours stay
at the reputed (at least reported) nunnery at Gidding ; and yet

254 APPENDIX :

must leave out three parts of our passages, as fitter for a relation
than a letter.

I came thither after ten ; and found a fair house, fairly seated ;
to which I passed through a fine grove and sweet walks, letticed
and gardened on both sides.

Their livelihood 500J. per annum, as my lord Montague * told
me ; one of his mansion houses being within two or three miles
of them.

A man-servant brought me into a fair spacious parlour.
Whither, soon after, came to me the old gentlewoman"^ second
son [Nicholas Ferrar ;] a batchelor, of a plain presence, but of
able speech and parts. Who, after I had (as well as in such
case I could) deprecated any ill conceit of me, for so unusual
and bold a visit, entertained me very civilly and with much
humility. Yet said, I was the first who ever came to them in
that kind ; though not the first whom they had heard of, who
determined to come. After deprecations and some compliments,
he said, I should see his mother, if I pleased. I shewing my
desire, he went up into a chamber, and presently returned with
these ; namely, his mother, a tall, straight, clear-complexioned,
grave matron, of eighty years of age : his elder brother, married
(but whether a widower, I asked not), a short, black- complexioned
man : his apparel and hair so fashioned as made him shew priest-
like : and his sister, married to one Mr. Colet : by whom she
hath 14 or 15 children : all which are in the house (which I saw
not yet). And of these, and two or three maid-servants, the
family consists.

I saluted the mother and daughter, not like nuns, but as we
use to salute other women. And (after we were all seated
circular- wise, and my deprecations renewed to the other three b)
I desired that, to their favour of entertaining me, they would add
the giving of me a free liberty to speak ingenuously what I con-
ceived of any thing I should see or have heard of, without any
distaste to them.

\Vhich being granted ; I first told them, what I had heard of
the nuns of Gidding. Of two, watching and praying all night.
Of their canonical hours. Of their crosses on the outside and
inside of their chapel. Of an altar there, richly docked with
plate, tapestry, and tapers. Of their adorations and cr« •ninil.-i-

2 Lord Montague'] Edward, first lord Montagu of Bonghton.
/ b Mr. John Ferrar, Mr. Nicholas Ferrar, and Mr. John Collet.

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 255

tions at their entering therein. Which, I objected, might savor
of superstition and popery.

Here the younger son, the mouth for them all, cut me off ;
and, to this last, answered first, with a protestation, that he did
as verily believe the pope to be antichrist as any article of his
faith. Wherewith I was satisfied and silenced, touching that
point.

For the nunnery ; he said, That the name of nuns was odious.
But the truth (from whence that untrue report might arise) was,
that two of his nieces had lived, one, thirty ; the other, thirty-
two years, virgins ; and so resolved to continue (as he hoped they
would) the better to give themselves to fasting and prayer : but
had made no vows 3.

For the canonical hours, he said, they usually prayed six times
a day. As I remember, twice a day publicly, in the chapel ; and
four times more, privately, in the house. In the chapel, after
the order of the book of common-prayer : in their house, parti-
cular prayers for a private family.

I said, if they spent so much time in praying, they would
leave little for preaching or for their weekly callings. For the
one I vouched the text, He that turneth away his ear from

3 No vows.~\ "Yet nothing is so sound, but in time it will run into corrup-
tion. For I must not hold it in, that some persons in Little Gidding had run
into excess, and incurred offence, if the bishop had not broken the snare,
which they were preparing for their own feet. For after he had spoken well
of the family in the pulpit, and privately to divers, some of them could not
see when they were well, but aspired to be transcendants above their measure.
For two daughters of the stock came to the bishop, and offered themselves
to be veiled virgins, to take upon them the vow of perpetual chastity, with
the solemnity of the episcopal blessing, and ratification : whom he admo-
nished very fatherly, that they knew not what they went about : that they
had no promise to confirm that grace unto them ; that this readiness, which
they had in the present, should be in their will, without repentance to their
life's end. Let the younger women marry, was the best advice, that they
might not be led into temptation. And that they might not forget what he
taught them, he drew up his judgment in three sheets of paper, and sent it
to them home, that they might dress themselves by that glass, and learn not
to think of human nature, above that which it is, a sea of flowings and
ebbings, and of all manner of inconstancy. The direction of God was in
this counsel ; for one of the gentlewomen afterwards took a liking to a good
husband, and was well bestowed." Backet's Life of Archbishop Williams,
part ii. p. 52.

256 APPENDIX :

hearing the law, even his prayer shall be abomination c. For the
other, Six days shalt thou labour, &c.

To the one he answered, that a neighbour minister of another
parish caine on Sunday-mornings, and preached ; and sometimes
they went to his parish. To the other, that their calling was to
serve God ; which he took to be the best.

I replied, that for men in health and of active bodies and
parts, it were a tempting of God to quit our callings, and wholly
to betake ourselves to fasting, prayer, and a contemplative life,
which by some is thought little better than a serious kind of idle-
ness : not to term it (as St. Austin terms moral virtues without
Christ) splendida peccata.

He enjoined, that they had found divers perplexities, distrac-
tions, and almost utter ruin, in their callings. But (if others
knew what comfort and content God ministered to them since
their sequestration, and with what incredible improvements of
their livelihood) it might encourage others to [take] the like
course.

I said that such an imitation might be of dangerous conse-
quence. And that if any, in good case before, should fall into
poverty [when entered into it,] few afterwards would follow the
example.

For their night-watchings, and their rising at four of the clock
in the morning (which I thought was [too] much for one of four-
score years, and for children). To the one he said, it was not
[too] much ; since they always went to bed at seven of the clock
in the evening. For the other, he confessed, there were every
night two (alternatim) continued all night in their devotions, who
went not to bed until the rest arose.

For the crosses he made the usual answer, that they were not
ashamed of that badge of the Christian profession which the first
propugners of the faith bare in their banners, and which we, in
our church discipline, retain to this day.

For their chapel ; that it was now near chapel time (for
eleven is the hour in the forenoon), and that I might, if I
pleased, accompany them thither, and so satisfy myself best of
what I had heard concerning that. Which afterwards I willingly
entertained.

c Prov. xxviii. 9.

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 257

In the mean time I told them, I perceived all was not true
which I had heard of the place. For I could see no such inscrip -
tion on the frontispiece of the house, containing a kind of invita-
tion of such as were willing to learn of them, or would teach them
better. Which, I said, was some encouragement for me to come
(as one desirous to learn, not teach), and might be some excuse
of my audacity, if they would be pleased so to accept it. But he,
barring me from farther compliments, said, the ground of that
report hung over my head.

We sitting by the chimney, [I saw] in the chimney piece was
a manuscript tableture ; which, after I had read, I craved leave
to beg a copy of (so they would not take me for too bold a
beggar). He forthwith took it down, and commanded it to be
presently transcribed and given to me. I offered the writer
money, for his deserved pains : which was refused. And the
master [N. F.] conjured me not to offer it a second time. And
thereupon [also he] made it his [farther] suit [to me], not to
offer any thing to any in that house, at my parting, or otherwise.
The words of the protestation are as folio weth d.

The matter of this declaration being in such general terms, I
said, I thought it without exception. But I prayed leave to except
a circumstance, namely, the superscription : it being the proper
character of the Jesuits in every book and exhibit of theirs. He
said it was that auspicious name, [Jesus] worthy to be the alpha
and omega of all our doings ; and that we are commanded to
write such things on the posts of our houses and upon our gates.
(Deut. vi. 9.) I told him, I was far from excepting against that
sacred, saving name of Jesus : only I could have wished it written
at length, or any other way, to have differenced it from that
which the papists only use, but no Protestants. And, that the
text he mentioned, was in the Old Testament (where there was
no mention of Jesus, but of Jehovah) to my remembrance. But

We passed from this towards the chapel, being about forty
paces from the house ; yet [were] staid a little (as with a paren-
thesis) by a glass of sack, a sugar-cake, and a fine napkin, brought
by a mannerly maid. Which refreshed my memory to tell them
what my lord bishop of Lincoln [Williams] said of them. Wherein
yet I brake no laws of humanity or hospitality (though spoken at
his table.) For he said nothing but what they wished and were

d "IHS

" He who by reproof," &c. see p, 206 of these Memoirs.

VOL. IV. S

258 APPENDIX :

glad to hear ; [all] being but the relation of the grave and dis-
creet answers (as my lord himself termed them) of the old gentle-
woman to some of his lordship's expostulations.

To that part concerning the young deacon, whom his lordship
had heard of, to come from Cambridge to officiate in their chapel ;
he (innuendo even the younger son, who only was the speaker)
said, that himself was the young deacon intended. That he is
two and forty years old ; was fellow of an house in Cambridge ;
and hath taken the orders of a deacon. — To say nothing of his
having been at Rome (whereof I could have excepted no more
against him than he might against me). For having been so long
in the labour of the chapel, it is now high time we were at the
church —

At the entering thereof he made a low obeysance ; a few paces
farther, a lower ; coming to the half-pace (which was at the east
end, where the tables stood) he bowed to the ground, if not pros-
trated himself : then went up into a fair, large reading place (a
preaching place being of the same proportion, right over against
it). The mother, with all her train (which were her daughter
and daughter's daughters) had a fair island seat.

He placed me above, upon the half-pace, with two fair window-
cushions of green velvet before me. Over against me was such
another seat, so suited ; but no body to sit in it. The daugli
four sons kneeled all the while on the edge of the half-pace ; all
in black gowns. (And they went to church in round Monmouth
caps, as my man said ; for I looked not back) the rest all in
black, save one of the daughter's daughters, who was in a fryer's
grey gown.

We being thus placed, the deacon (for so I must now call him)
with a very loud and distinct voice, began with the Litany, read
divers prayers and collects in the book of Common-prayer, and
Athanasius his creed, and concluded with The Peace of God.

All ended, the mother, with all her company, attended my
coming down. But her son (the deacon) told her, I would stay
awhile to view the chapel. So with all their civil salutation
wards me (which I returned them afar off; for I durst not come
nearer, lest I should have light upon one of the virgins ; not
knowing whether they would have taken a kiss 4 in good part or
no) they departed home.

4 A K«.] Then, and long afterwards, a common salutation. On its use
at an earlier time, see vol. i. p. 533.

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 259

Now (none but the deacon and I left) I observed the chapel, in
general, to be fairly and sweetly adorned with herbs and flowers,
natural in some places, and artificial upon every pillar along both
sides the chapel (such as are in cathedral churches) with tapers
(I mean great virgin- wax-candles) on every pillar.

The half-pace at the upper end (for there was no other division
betwixt the body of the chapel and the east part) was all covered
with tapestry. And, upon that half-pace, stood the communion-
table (not altar- wise, as reported6) with a rich carpet hanging
very large upon the half-pace ; and some plate, as a chalice, and
candlesticks, with wax candles.

By the preaching place stood the font; the leg, laver, and
cover, all of brass, cut and carved. The cover had a cross erected.
The laver was of the bigness of a barber's bason.

And this is all which I had leisure to observe in the chapel ;
save that I asked for the organs? And he told me, they were
not there ; but that they had a pair in their house.

I asked also, what use they made of so many tapers ? He said,
to give them light, when they could not see without them.

Then (having, as I told you before, obtained leave to say what
I listed) I asked him, to whom he made all those courtesies ? He
said, to God. I asked if the papists made any other answer for
their bowing to images and crucifixes? yet we account them
idolaters for so doing. He said, we have no such warrant for the
one. But for the other we have a precept, to do all things with
decency and order ; as he took this to be.

I demanded, then, why he used not the same solemnity in his
service at his house ? And, whether he thought the chapel more
holy than his house? He said, No. But that God was more

e [Formerly the church puritans generally set the communion table either
in the body of the church, or (if in the chancel, yet) with the two ends point-
ing east and west (not north and south). And Williams, now bishop of Lin-
coln (in opposition to archbishop Laud and others, who set it altar-wise)
insisted much upon their standing so. And, in obedience to bishop Williams
(who was his diocesan) no doubt it was, that Mr. Ferrar set his communion
table, after the puritan manner, with the two ends pointing east and west.
Though, I guess, it stood otherwise 'till this year 1635. Be that as it will,
this passage may serve to shew, that bishop Williams was, even then, hatching
his " Holy Table, Name, and Thing" (printed [anonymously'] in 1637) and
setting others to oppose the archbishop's usage. — Though the bishop's own
practice, in his own chapel at Buckden, both before and after, was other-
wise. F. P.]

s 2

260 APPENDIX :

immediately present, while we were worshipping him in the
temple.

I replied, that I thought God was as present at Paul's cross as
at Paul's church ; and at the preaching-place at Whitehall, and
'spital sermons, as elsewhere. For where two or three are
gathered together in his name, God is in the midst of them. And
yet in those places (no not in the body of the church, though
there be a sermon and prayers there) we do not use this threefold
reverence, nor any low bowing, unless in the chancel towards the
east, where an altar, or some crucifix, is? — He answered me
something of the trinary number, which I did not understand,
nor well hear.

This, as all other our discourse, being ended with mildness and
moderation (on his part at least) I said farther, since their devo-
tions (from which they would be loth to be diverted or inter-
rupted, as in the said protestation appears) are more strict and
regular than usual, if in their consciences they were persuaded
that all their formalities and ceremonies were but adiaphora
(things indifferent) I then thought they were as wise as serpents
(in the Scripture sense) in complying so with the church ceremo-
nies, .that they might the safelier hold on their course without
exception. For in this comportment, I thought, authority would
not except against them, unless for exceeding the cathedrals;
who make but one reverence, whereas they make three. He
said, I spake like one who seemed to have had experience in the
world.

It being now near twelve o'clock, we ended our discourse, and
I called for my horses; hoping that thereupon he would have
invited me to stay dinner : not that I care for his or any man's
meat (for you had given me a dinner in too good a breakfast) but
that I might have gained more time to have seen and observed
more of their fashions ; and whether the virgins and younger sort
would have mingled with us? with divers other things, which
such a dinner-time would have best have ministered matter for.
But, instead of making me stay, he helped me in calling for my
horses ; accompanying me even to my stirrup. And so, I not
returning into the house, as we friendly met, we friendly part* <1.

Many more questions I thought on, wlu-n it was too late ; and
yet you see I was not idle for the short time I stayed. I asked
him, of their monthly receiving the sacrament? And, whether
their servants (when they received) were attended by their mas-

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 261

ters and mistresses, and suffered not so much as to lay and take
away their own trenchers, as I had heard ? whereat he smiled, as
at a frivolous fable, and said, the only difference [then] from other
clays was, that the servants (the day they received) sat at the
same table with them.

I heard also that they never roast any meat ; only boil and
bake (but not in paste), that their servants may not be much
hindered from their devotions. And that they have but one
horse amongst them all. But of these I made no mention.

They are extraordinary well reported of by their neighbours,
viz. that they are very liberal to the poor ; at great cost in pre-
paring physic and surgery, for the sick and sore (whom they visit
often), and that some sixty or eighty poor people they task with
catechetical questions : which when they come and make answer
to, they are rewarded with money and their dinner. By means
of which reward of meat and money, the poor catechumens learn
their lessons well ; and so their bodies and souls too are well
fed.

I find them full of humanity and humility. And others speak
as much of their charity : which I also verily believe. And
therefore am far from censuring them : of whom I think much
better than of myself. My opposing of sonie of their opinions
and practices as you see in this my relation (wherein T may have
varied in some circumstances, but nothing from the substance)
was only by way of argument, and for my own better information,
I shall be glad to observe how wiser men will judge of them, or
imitate their course of life.

I intended not a third part of this when I began, as you may
see by my first lines. But one thing drawing on another, I have
now left out little or nothing to my remembrance ; saving what I
thought fitting in good manners, upon my first affront, to make
way for my welcome, and ad captandam benevolentiam ; which is
not worth the repeating, if I could ; and I am something better
at acting such a part, than at relating it : though good at neither.

After this long and tedious relation, J must now make but
short thanks to yourself and my lady for my long and kind wel-
come ; wherein my wife joins with me ; praying your remembering
our loving respects to our kind nieces (hoping the good scholars
at Westminster are well). And so I leave you to the grace of
God ; and am the same, your loving friend,

EDWARD LENTON.

262 APPENDIX :

HAVING been desired by a very worthy and judicious friend to
give a specimen of Mr. Ferraris devotional compositions, I here
add one prayer, which was used regularly the first Sunday in
every month, and one which was drawn up on the particular occa-
sion of the dangerous illness of his dear friend Mr. Geo. Herbert.

The established rule of the family was to receive the sacra-
ment the first Sunday of every month in the parish church, and
on those days in their devotions at home to add a general form of
thanksgiving for dangers escaped, and mercies received ; of which
the following is a copy something shortened.

" We come, 0 Lord, most mighty God, and merciful Father,
to offer unto thy .Divine Majesty, the monthly tribute of that
duty, which indeed we are continually bound to perform, the ten-
der of our most humble and hearty thanks for those inestimable
benefits which we, unworthy sinners, have from time to time in
abundant manner received of thy goodness, and do even unto this
hour enjoy. Yet by our ingratitude and abuse of them, we have
deserved not only the deprivation of these good things, but that
by a rigorous chastisement thou shouldest make us an example of
thine impartial justice. For there is none, O Lord, to whom
thou hast given more abundance or greater variety of the com-
forts of this life. If we should go about to tell them, they are
more in number than the sand ; there are none upon whom thou
hast more freely conferred them : yet ought we to confess that
we are not worthy of the least of thy favours. And as in regard
of our unworthiness, so likewise in respect of the lowliness of our
condition whence thou hast raised us, of the dangers wherewith
we have been environed, of the difficulties wherewith we have
been enthralled, we must needs cry out, Great are the wondrous
works which thou hast done : for on every side we hear the voice
of the beholders, Blessed are the people who are in such a case.
Wonderful indeed hath been thy goodness towards us : while the
wise have been disappointed in their counsels, while the full of
friends have been left desolate, while the men whose hands \
mighty have found nothing, while the strong on every side have
fallen, we, O Lord, have been by thy power raised up, by thine
arm have we been strengthened, guided by thy counsels, and
relieved by the favour of thy mercies. And that we might know
that it was thy doing, by those ways and means which we thought
not of, thou hast brought us into a wealthy place, and to ti
many comforts which we now enjoy. And although we have

NICHOLAS FERRAR. 263

not any way deserved thy favours, yet is thy patience extended
towards us. We must needs acknowledge, 0 Lord, that the
liberality of thy hand is extended even beyond the largeness of
our own hearts. And yet, O Lord, all this is nothing in compa-
rison of that which we may farther enjoy. By how much the
things of heaven do surpass those of the earth, by how much
everlasting happiness is more worth than the transitory and feeble
pleasures of this life, by so much more surpassing are those
graces and favours with which thou hast furnished us for the
knowledge of thy heavenly will, and for the practices of those
duties, of which our conversation in this world, is capable.

u Thou hast given to us a freedom from all other affairs, that
we may without distraction attend thy service. That holy gospel
which came down from heaven, which things the angels desire to
look into, is by thy goodness, continually open to our view : the
sweet music thereof is continually sounding in our ears : hea-
venly songs are by thy mercy put into our mouths, and our
tongues and lips made daily instruments of pouring forth thy
praise. This, Lord, is the work, and this the pleasure of the
angels in heaven : and dost thou vouchsafe to make us partakers
of so high an happiness ? The knowledge of thee, and of thy
Son is everlasting life. Thy service is perfect freedom : how
happy then are we, that thou dost constantly retain us in the
daily exercise thereof!

" With these favours, and mercies, 0 Lord, we ought to ac-
knowledge ourselves most happy : we ought to be joyful in the
midst of adversities, in the depth of affliction, and in the height
of distress. How much more then are we bound to thee for thy
merciful continuance of those blessings which we enjoy ! we are
bound, 0 Lord, but unable to perform this duty as we ought ;
yet since thou hast invited us, we now come to the performance
thereof ; to render to thy divine majesty the most humble and
hearty acknowledgment of our own demerits, and thy infinite
goodness. We beseech thee that thou wilt enlarge our hearts,
and open our mouths, that our prayers may be set forth in thy
sight as incense, and the lifting up of our hands as a sacrifice
unto thee, for the only merits of thy dear Son, in whose name
and mediation we offer up both our prayers and praises, and
together with them ourselves, beseeching thee that they being
sanctified by thy grace, may be every way made acceptable to
thee. Amen."

264 APPENDIX.

On particular occurrences, Mr. Ferrar composed more parti-
cular forms, to be used occasionally, of which the following is an
example.

"On Friday " (date not mentioned) " Mr. Mapletoft brought
us word that Mr. Herbert was said to be past hope of recovery,
which was very grievous news to us, and so much the more so,
being altogether unexpected. We presently therefore made
our public supplication for his health in the words, and manner
following :

" O most mighty God, and merciful Father, we most humbly
beseech thee, if it be thy good pleasure, to continue to us that
singular benefit which thou hast given us in the friendship of thy
servant, our dear brother, who now lieth on the bed of sickness.
Let him abide with us yet awhile, for the furtherance of our
faith. We have indeed deserved by our ingratitude, not only the
loss of him, but whatever other opportunities thou hast given us
for the attainment of our salvation. We do not deserve to be heard
in our supplications ; but thy mercies are above all thy works.
In consideration whereof we prostrate ourselves in all humble
earnestness, beseeching thee, if so it may seem good to thy
Divine Majesty, that thou wilt hear us in this, who hast heard us
in all the rest, and that thou wilt bring him back again from the
gates of death : that thou wilt yet a while spare him, that he
may h've to thy honour and our comfort. Lord, thou hast willed
that our delights should be in the saints on earth, and in such as
excel in virtue : how then should we not be afflicted, and mourn
when thou takest them away from us ! Thou hast made him a
great help, and furtherance of the best things amongst us, how
then can we but esteem the loss of him, a chastisement from thy
displeasure ! O Lord, we beseech thee that it may not be so : we
beseech thee, if it be thy good pleasure, restore unto us our dear
brother, by restoring to him his health : so will we praise and
magnify thy name, and mercy, with a song of tlianksgiving.
Hear us, O Lord, for thy dear Son's sake, Jesus Christ our
Saviour. Amen."

Thus have I complied with the desire of a worthy friend ; ami
in so doing have, I think, given to the public, in these examples,
not only a proof of the piety of Mr. Ferrar, but also of his excel-
lence in devotional composition.

BISHOP HALL.

Let us all adore and bless God's wisest choices, and set vigorously to the
task that lies before us ; improving the present advantages, and supplying in
the abundance of the inward beauty what is wanting to the outward lustre of
a Church ; and we shall not fail to find that the grots and caves lie as open
to the celestial influences as the fairest and most beautified temples. — And it
must be our greatest blame and wretchedness, if what hath now befallen us
be not effectually better for us, than whatever else even piety could have sug-
gested to us to wish or pray for.

DOCTOK HENRY HAMMOND.

ADVERTISEMENT.

IN the year 1660 was published in 4to, a volume intitled, The
Shaking of the Olive Tree : the remaining Works of that incom-
parable prelate Joseph Hall, D.D. late lord Ushop of Norwich. It
contained among other things, Observations of some specialities of
Divine Providence in the Life of Joseph Hall, Ushop of Norwich ;
and his Hard Measure ; both written with his own hand. The
Following Life is composed principally of a republication of those
two tracts. They are printed from the above-mentioned edition
of the year 1660.

BISHOP HALL.

NOT out of a vain affectation of my own glory, which I know
how little it can avail me, when I am gone hence ; but out of
a sincere desire to give glory to my God, (whose wonderful
providence I have noted in all my ways) have I recorded some
remarkable passages of my fore- past life. What I have done
is worthy of nothing, but silence and forgetfulness : but what
God hath done for me, is worthy of everlasting and thankful
memory.

I was born July 1, 1574, at five of the clock in the morning,
in Bristow-Park, within the parish of Ashby de la Zouch, a town
in Leicestershire, of honest and well allowed patronage. My
father was an officer under that truly honourable and religious
Henry, earl of Huntingdon, president of the north, and under him
had the government of that market-town, wherein the chief seat
of that earldom is placed. My mother Winifride, of the house of
the Bambridges *, was a woman of that rare sanctity, that (were it
not for my interest in nature,) I durst say, that neither Aleth,
the mother of that just honour of Clareval 2 ; nor Monica, nor any
other of those pious matrons, antiently famous for devotion, need
to disdain her admittance to comparison. She was continually
exercised with the affliction of a weak body, and oft of a wounded
spirit, the agonies whereof, as she would oft recount with much
passion, professing that the greatest bodily sicknesses were but
flea-bites to those scorpions, so from them all at last she found
an happy and comfortable deliverance, and that not without a

1 Bambridges] Or rather Bainbridge, or Bainbrigge, of Ashby and Lock-
in gton.

2 Just honour of Clareval.'] St. Bernard of Clairvaux, whose mother was
Alethea, daughter of the Count of Montbar.

270 BISHOP HALL.

more than ordinary hand of God. For on a time being in great
distress of conscience, she thought in her dream, there stood by
her a grave personage, in the gown, and other habits of a physi-
cian, who enquiring of her estate, and receiving a sad and queru-
lous answer from her, took her by the hand, and bade her be of
good comfort, for this should be the last fit that ever she should
feel of this kind ; whereto she seemed to answer, that upon that
condition, she could well be content for the time, with that, or
any other torment. Reply was made to her, as she thought, with
a redoubled assurance of that happy issue of this her last trial ;
whereat she began to conceive an unspeakable joy ; which yet
upon her awaking left her more disconsolate, as then conceiting
her happiness imaginary, her misery real ; when the very same
day, she was visited by the reverend, and (in his time) famous
divine, Mr. Anthony Gilby s, under whose ministry she lived ; who,
upon the relation of this her pleasing vision, and the contrary
effects it had in her, began to persuade her, that dream was no
other than divine, and that she had good reason to think that
gracious premonition was sent her from God himself, who, though
ordinarily he keeps the common road of his proceedings, yet
sometimes in the distresses of his servants, he goes unusual ways to
their relief. Hereupon she began to take heart, and by good coun-
sel and her fervent prayers, found that happy prediction verified
to her ; and upon all occasions in the remainder of her life, was
ready to magnify the mercy of her God in so sensible a deliver-
ance. What with the trial of both these hands of God, so had
she profited in the school of Christ, that it was hard for any friend
to come from her discourse no whit holier. How often have I
blessed the memory of those divine passages of experimental divi-
nity, which I have heard from her mouth ! What day did she
pass without a large task of private devotion, whence she would
still come forth with a countenance of undissembled mortification !
Never any lips have read to me such feeling lectures of piety ;
neither have I known any soul, that more accurately prac •;
them, than her own. Temptations, desertions, and spiritual
comforts were her usual theme ; shortly, for I can hardly take

* Anthony Gilby.'] A native of Lincolnshire, vicar of Ashby. He was one
of the most eminent of the early puritans. Peck says that lie lived at Ashby
" as great as a 1 SM Tenner's UHiliotheca, p. 318. Hcylin's Presby-

terians, p. 2f)O. Fuller's Church ///.s/o?-//. ix. TC.

BISHOP HALL. 271

off my pen from so exemplary a subject, her life and death were
saint-like.

My parents had from mine infancy devoted me to this sacred
calling, whereto, by the blessing of God, I have seasonably
attained. For this cause I was trained up in the public school
of the place. After I had spent some years (not altogether indi-
ligently) under the ferule of such masters as the place afforded,
and had near attained to some competent ripeness for the univer-
sity ; my school-master, being a great admirer of one Mr. Pelset4,
who was then lately come from Cambridge, to be the public
preacher of Leicester, (a man very eminent in those times, for
the fame of his learning, but especially for his sacred oratory)
persuaded my father, that if I might have my education under so
excellent and complete a divine, it might be both a nearer, and
easier way to his purposed end, than by an academical institution.
The motion sounded well in my father's ears, and carried fair
probabilities ; neither was it other than fore-compacted betwixt
my school-master and Mr. Pelset ; so as on both sides it was
entertained with great forwardness.

The gentleman, upon essay taken of my fitness for the use of
his studies, undertakes within one seven years, to send me forth,
no less furnished with arts, languages and grounds of theorical
divinity, than the carefullest tutor in the strictest college of either
university. Which that he might assuredly perform, to prevent
the danger of any mutable thoughts in my parents, or myself, he
desired mutual bonds to be drawn betwixt us. The great charge
of my father, (whom it pleased God to bless with twelve children)
made him the more apt to yield to so likely a project for a younger
son. There, and now were all the hopes of my future life upon
blasting. The indentures were preparing, the time was set, my
suits were addressed for the journey. What was the issue I O
God, thy providence made and found it. Thou knowest how sin-
cerely and heartily, in those my young years a, I did cast myself
upon thy hands ; with what faithful resolution, I did in this par-
ticular occasion resign myself over to thy disposition, earnestly
begging of thee in my fervent prayers, to order all things to the
best ; and confidently waiting upon thy will for the event. Cer-

4 Mr. Pelset.] More probably Pelsant, of the Leicestershire family of that
name ; several members of it held preferments in the county.
a Anno yEtatis 15°.

272 BISHOP HALL.

tainly, never did I in all my life more clearly roll myself upon the
Divine Providence, than I did in this business ; and it succeeded
accordingly.

It fell out at this time, that my elder brother having some
occasions to journey unto Cambridge, was kindly entertained
there, by Mr. Nathaniel Gilby 8, fellow of Emanuel college, who,
for that he was born in the same town with me, and had con-
ceived some good opinion of my aptness to learning, inquired dili-
gently concerning me ; and hearing of the diversion of my father's
purposes from the university, importunately dissuaded from that
new course, professing to pity the loss of so good hopes. My
brother, partly moved with his words, and partly won by his own
eyes, to a great love, and reverence of an academical life, return-
ing home, fell upon his knees to my father, and after the report
of Mr. Gilby's words, and his own admiration of the place, earn-
estly besought him, that he would be pleased to alter that so pre-
judicial a resolution, that he would not suffer my hopes to be
drowned in a shallow country-channel ; but that he would revive
his first purposes for Cambridge ; adding in the zeal of his love,
that if the chargeableness of that course were the hinderance, he
did there humbly beseech him, rather to sell some part of that
land, which himself should in course of nature inherit, than to
abridge me of that happy means to perfect my education.

No sooner had he spoken these words than my father no less
passionately condescended ; not without a vehement protestation,
that whatsoever it might cost him, I should (God willing) be sent
to the university. Neither were those words sooner out of his
lips, than there was a messenger from Mr. Pelset knocking at
the door, to call me to that fairer bondage, signifying, that the
next day he expected me, with a full dispatch of all that business.
To whom my father replied, that he came some minutes too late ;
that he had now otherwise determined of me ; and with a re-
spective message of thanks to the master, sent the man home
empty, leaving me full of the tears of joy for so happy a chnn^v.
Indeed I had been but lost, if that project had succeeded ; as it
well appeared in the experience of him who succeeded in that
room, which was by me thus unexpectedly forsaken. — O (;<•<!. h<>\\
\\.is I then taken up with a thankful acknowledgment, and joyful
admiration of thy gracious providence over me !

* Nathaniel Gilby.'] Son of the preceding Anthony Gilby, whom he
succeeded as vicar of Ashby.

BISHOP HALL. 273

And now I lived in the expectation of Cambridge ; whither ere
long I happily came, under Mr. Gilby's tuition, together with my
worthy friend Mr. Hugh Cholmley 6, who, as we had been partners
of one lesson from our cradles, so were we now for many years
partners of one bed. My two first years were necessarily charge-
able, above the proportion of my father's power, whose not very
large cistern, was to feed many pipes besides mine. His weari-
ness of expense was wrought upon by the counsel of some unwise
friends, who persuaded him to fasten me upon that school as
master, whereof I was lately a scholar. Now was I fetched
home with an heavy heart ; and now this second time had mine
hopes been nipped in the blossom, had not God raised me up an
unhoped benefactor, Mr. Edmund Sleigh 7 of Derby (whose pious
memory I have cause ever to love and reverence). Out of no
other relation to me, save that he married my aunt, pitying my
too apparent dejectedness, he voluntarily urged, and solicited my
father for my return to the university, and offered freely to con-
tribute the one half of my maintenance there, till I should attain
to the degree of master of arts, which he no less really and
lovingly performed. The condition was gladly accepted ; thither
was I sent back with joy enough, and ere long, chosen scholar of
that strict and well ordered college.

By that time I had spent six years there, now the third year
of my bachelorship should at once both make an end of my main-
tenance, and in respect of standing, gave me a capacity of fur-
ther preferment in that house, were it not that my country ex-
cluded me, for our statute allowed but one of a shire to be fellow
there, and my tutor being of the same town with me, must there-
fore necessarily hold me out. But, O my God, how strangely
did thy gracious providence bring this business about ! I was now
entertaining motions of remove. A place was offered me in the
island of Guernsey, which I had in speech and chase. It fell out
that the father of my loving chamberfellow, Mr. Cholmley, a
gentleman that had likewise dependance upon the most noble
Henry earl of Huntingdon, having occasion to go to York, unto
that his honourable lord, fell into some mention of me. That
good earl (who well esteemed my fathers service) having belikely

6 Hugh Cholmley.'] Probably of the family of Chomley of Bransby.

7 Edmund SleighJ] Of Derby and Little Ireton, of a good family, which
became extinct at the death, in 1679, of Sir Samuel Sleigh, of Ash and Etvvall
in Derbyshire, and of Gray's Inn, London, knight.

VOL. IV. T

274 BISHOP HALL.

heard some better words of me than I could deserve, made ear-
nest inquiry after me, what were my courses ; what my hopes ;
and hearing of the likelihood of my removal, professed much
dislike of it ; not without some vehemence, demanding why I
was not chosen fellow of that college, wherein by report I
received such approbation. Answer was returned that my coun-
try debarred me ; which being filled with my tutor, whom his
lordship well knew, could not by the statute admit a second.
The earl presently replied, that if that were the hinderance he
would soon take order to remove it ; whereupon his lordship pre-
sently sends for my tutor Mr. Gilby unto York, and with proffer
of large conditions of the chaplainship in his house, and assured
promises of better provisions, drew him to relinquish his place
in the college to a free election. No sooner was his assent signi-
fied, than the days were set for the public (and indeed exquisite)
examination of the competitors. By that time two days of the
three allotted to this trial were past, certain news came to us of
the unexpected death 8 of that incomparably religious and noble
earl of Huntingdon, by whose loss my then disappointed tutor
must necessarily be left to the wide world unprovided for. Upon
notice thereof I presently repaired to the master of the college,
Mr. Dr. Chaderton 9, and besought him to tender that hard con-
dition to which my good tutor must needs be driven if the election
proceeded ; to stay any farther progress in that business ; and to
leave me to my own good hopes wheresoever, whose youth ex-
posed me both to less needs, and more opportunities of provision.
Answer was made me, that the place was pronounced void how-
ever, and therefore that my tutor was divested of all possibility
of remedy ; and must wait upon the providence of God for his
disposing elsewhere, and the election must necessarily proceed
the day following. Then was 1 with a cheerful unanimity chosen
into that society, which if it had any equals, I dare say had none
beyond it, for good order, studious carriage, strict government,
austere piety ; in which I spent six or seven years more with
such contentment, as the rest of my life hath in vain striven t«»

8 Death.] 15Q5.

9 Dr. Chaderton.] Laurence Chaderton was the first master of Emannel
College, having been appointed by the founder. Sir Walter Mildmay. lit
was one of the four divines for the Conference at Hampton Court, and one of
the Translators of the Bible, lit-, with other Cambridge divines, trans
from Chronicles to Canticles inclusive. lie lived till

BISHOP HALL. 275

yield. Now was I called to public disputations often, with no ill
success ; for never durst I appear in any of those exercises of
scholarship, till I had from my knees looked up to heaven for a
blessing, and renewed my actual dependence upon that divine
hand. In this while two years together was I chosen to the
rhetoric lecture in the public schools, where I was encouraged
with a sufficient frequence of auditors ; but finding that well ap-
plauded work somewhat out of my way, not without a secret
blame of myself for so much excursion, I fairly gave up that
task in the midst of those poor acclamations to a worthy succes-
sor Dr. Dod, and betook myself to those serious studies, which
might fit me for that high calling whereunto I was destined,
wherein after I had carefully bestowed myself for a time, I took
the boldness to enter into sacred orders ; the honour whereof
having once attained, I was no niggard of that talent which my
God had entrusted to me, preaching often as occasion was offered,
both in country villages abroad, and at home in the most awful
auditory of the university.

And now I did but wait where and how it would please my
God to employ me. There was at that time a famous school 10
erected at Tiverton in Devon, and endowed with a very large
pension, whose goodly fabric was answerable to the reported
maintenance ; the care whereof, was by the rich and bountiful
founder Mr. Blundel, cast principally upon the then lord chief
justice Popham *. That faithful observer having great interest in
the master of our house, Dr. Chaderton, moved him earnestly
to commend some able, learned, and discrete governor to that
weighty charge, whose action should not need to be so much as
his oversight. It pleased our master out of his good opinion to
tender this condition unto me, assuring me of no small advan-
tages, and no great toil, since it was intended the main load of
the work should lie upon other shoulders. I apprehended the
motion worth the entertaining. In that severe society our times
were stinted, neither was it wise or safe to refuse good offers.
Doctor Chaderton carried me to London, and there presented me
to the lord chief justice with much testimony of approbation.

10 Famous school.'] Founded by Peter Blundell, clothier, a native of the
place, in 1599. An account of the school was privately printed by Benjamin
Incledon, of Pilton, in Devonshire, which was reprinted in 1804 by order of
the feoffees.

1 Popham^] Sir John Popham.

T 2

276 BISHOP HALL.

The judge seemed well apayed with the choice. I promised
acceptance, he the strength of his favour. No sooner had I
parted from the judge, than in the street a messenger presented
me with a letter, from the right virtuous and worthy lady (of
dear and happy memory) the lady Drury 3 of Suffolk, tendering
the rectory of her Halsted 3 then newly void, and very earnestly
desiring me to accept of it. Dr. Chaderton observing in me some
change of countenance, asked me what the matter might be. I
told him the errand, and delivered him the letter beseeching his
advice; which when he had read. u Sir," (quoth I) "methinks
God pulls me by the sleeve, and tells me it is his will I should
rather go to the east than to the west." " Nay " (he answered)
" I should rather think that God would have you go westward,
for that he hath contrived your engagement before the tender of
this letter, which therefore coming too late may receive a fair
and easy answer." To this I besought him to pardon my dis-
sent, adding, that I well knew that divinity was the end whereto
1 was destined by my parents, which I had so constantly pro-
posed to myself, that I never meant other, than to pass through
this western school to it ; but I saw that God who found me
ready to go the farther way about, now called me the nearest and
directest way to that sacred end. The good man could no fur-
ther oppose, but only pleaded the distaste which would hereupon
be justly taken by the lord chief justice, whom I undertook fully
to satisfy ; which I did * with no great difficulty, commending to
his lordship in my room, my old friend and chamber-fellow Mr.
Cholmley, who finding an answerable acceptance disposed himself
to the place ; so as we two, who came together to the university,
now must leave it at once.

Having then fixed my foot at Halsted, I found there a dan-
gerous opposite to the success of my ministry, a witty and bold
atheist, one Mr. Lilly, who by reason of his travails, and abili-
ties of discourse and behaviour, had so deeply insinuated himself
into my patron, sir Robert Drury, that there was small hopes
(during his entireness) for me to work any good upon that noble

2 Lady Drury.'] Anne, eldest daughter of Sir Nicholas Bacon, of Red-
grave, the first baronet of England.

8 Halsted.] Now Hawsted : he was instituted December 2, 1601.

4 Which I did.] He resigned on the same day on which he had accepted
the appointment. Sir John Popham, however, did not appoint Cholmley in
his room, but Samuel Butler.

BISHOP HALL. 277

patron of mine ; who by the suggestion of this wicked detractor
was set off from me before he knew me. Hereupon (I confess)
finding the obduredness and hopeless condition of that man, I
bent my prayers against him, beseeching God daily, that he would
be pleased to remove by some means or other, that apparent hin-
derance of my faithful labours ; who gave me an answer accord-
ingly. For this malicious man going hastily up to London, to
exasperate my patron against me, was then and there swept
away by the pestilence, and never returned to do any farther
mischief.

Now the coast was clear before me, and I gained every day of
the good opinion and favourable respects of that honourable gen-
tleman and my worthy neighbours. Being now therefore settled
in that sweet and civil country of Suffolk, near to St. EdmundV
Bury, my first work was to build up my house which was then
extremely ruinous ; which done, the uncouth solitariness of my
life, and the extreme incommodity of that single house-keeping,
drew my thoughts after two years to condescend to the necessity
of a married estate, which God no less strangely provided for me.
For walking from the church on Monday in the Whitsun-week,
with a grave and reverend minister, Mr. Grandidge, I saw a
comely modest gentlewoman standing at the door of that house,
where we were invited to a wedding-dinner, and enquiring of that
worthy friend whether he knew her, " Yes," (quoth he) " I know
her well, and have bespoken her for your wife." When I fur-
ther demanded an account of that answer, he told me, she was
the daughter of a gentleman whom he much respected, Mr.
George Winniff 5 of Bretenham ; that out of an opinion had of the
fitness of that match for me, he had already treated with her
father about it, whom he found very apt to entertain it, advising
me not to neglect the opportunity ; and not concealing the just
praises of the modesty, piety, good disposition, and other virtues
that were lodged in that seemly presence, I listened to the mo-
tion as sent from God ; and at last upon due prosecution happily
prevailed, enjoying the comfortable society of that meet help for
the space of forty-nine years.

I had not passed two years in this estate when my noble friend
sir Edmund Bacon 6, with whom I had much intireness, came to

6 Winniff.~] Or Wenyeve. The bishop's eldest son, Robert, was christened at
Hawsted on December 26, 1605.
6 Sir Edmund Bacon.'] Brother to lady Drury.

278 BISHOP HALL.

me, and earnestly solicited me for my company in a journey by
him projected to the Spa in Ardenna 7, laying before me the safety,
the easiness, the pleasure, and the benefit of that small extrava-
gance, if opportunity were taken at that time, when the earl of
Hertford 8 passed in embassy to the arch-duke Albert of Bruxells.
I soon yielded, as for the reasons by him urged, so especially for
the great desire I had to inform myself ocularly of the state and
practice of the Romish church ; the knowledge whereof might
be of no small use to me in my holy station. Having therefore
taken careful order for the supply of my charge, with the assent
and good allowance of my nearest friends, I entered into this
secret voyage 9.

7 In Ardenna.'] In the forest of Ardennes.

8 Earl of HertfcrdJ] Edward Seymour, earl of Hertford, son of the
Protector duke of Somerset, and celebrated for his marriage with lady
Katharine Grey. The embassy in 1 605 was special, to confirm a peace ; and the
earl, who was generally thought to be master of more ready money than any
nobleman in England, resolved to make a splendid appearance, and to spend
10,000/. besides his allowance.

9 This secret voyage.] See Bishop Hall's Epistles, Decad. i. epist. 5. A
report of some observations in my TYavel.

I give an extract or two from this letter of matters not comprehended in
the text.

" All civil occurrences ; as what fair cities, what strange fashions, enter-
tainments, dangers, delights we found, — are fit for other ears, and winter
evenings : what I noted as a divine, within the sphere of my profession, my
paper shall not spare, in some part, to report.

" Along our way, how many churches saw we demolished ! Nothing left,
but rude heaps, to tell the passenger, there had been both devotion and hos-
tility. O ! the miserable footsteps of war, besides bloodshed, ruin, and deso-
lation ! Fury hath done that there, which covetousness would do with us : —
would do, but shall not : the truth within shall save the walls without. And,
to speak truly, whatever the vulgar exclaim, idolatry pulled down those walls ;
not rage. If there had been no Hollander to raze them, they should have
fallen alone ; rather than hide so much impiety under their guilty roof. —
These are spectacles, not so much of cruelty, as justice : cruelty of man, justice
of God.

" But, — which I wondered at, churches fall, and Jesuits' colleges rise every
where : there is no city, where these are not either rearing, or built. Whence
cometh this ? Is it, for that devotion is not so necessary, as policy ? Those
men, as we say of the fox, fare best, when they are most cursed. None, so
much spited of their own ; none, so hated of all ; none, so opposed by ours :
and yet, these ill weeds grow. Whosoever lives long, shall see them feared
of their own, which now hate them : shall see these seven lean kine devour
all the fat beasts, that feed on the meadows of Tiber. I prophesy, as Pharaoh
dreamed : the event shall justify my confidence. [" At

BISHOP HALL. 279

We waited some days at Harwich for a wind, which we hoped
might waft us over to Dunkirk, where our ambassador had lately
landed ; but at last having spent a day, and half a night at sea,
we were forced for want of favour from the wind, to put in at
Queenborough, from whence coasting over the rich and pleasant
county of Kent, we renewed our shipping at Dover, and soon
landing at Calais, we passed after two days by waggon to the
strong towns of Graveling, and Dunkirk, where I could not but
find much horror in myself to pass under those dark and dreadful
prisons, where so many brave Englishmen had breathed out their
souls in a miserable captivity. From thence we passed through
Winnoxburgh, Ipre, Gaunt, Courtray, to Bruxells, where the

" At Brussells I saw some English women profess themselves vestals ; with
a thousand rites, I know not whether more ridiculous, or magical. Poor
souls ! they could not be fools enough at home. It would have made you to
pity, laugh, disdain, I know not which most, to see by what cunning slights
and fair pretences, that weak sex was fetched into a wilful bondage : and, if
those two can agree, willingly constrained to serve a master, whom they must
and cannot obey : whom they may neither forsake for their vow, nor can
please for their frailty. — What follows hence ? Late sorrow, secret mischief,
misery irremediable. Their forwardness for will-worship shall condemn our
coldness for truth

f ' At Ghent, a city that commands reverence for age, and wonder for great-
ness, we fell upon a Capuchin novice, which wept bitterly, because he was
not allowed to be miserable. His head had now felt the razor ; his back, the
rod : all that laconical discipline pleased him well ; which another, being
condemned to, would justly account a torment. — What hindered, then ? —
Piety to his mother would not permit this, which he thought piety to God :
He could not be a willing beggar, unless his mother must beg unwillingly.
He was the only heir of his father ; the only stay of his mother. The com-
fort of her widowhood depended on this her orphan ; who now, naked, must
enter into the world of the Capuchins, as he came first into this ; leaving his
goods to the division of the fraternity : the least part whereof should have
been hers, whose he wished all. Hence those tears, that repulse. I pitied
his ill-bestowed zeal; and rather wished, than durst teach him, more wisdom.
These men for devout, the Jesuits for learned and pragmatical, have engrossed
all opinions from other orders. — O hypocrisy ! No Capuchin may take, or
touch silver : for these are, you know, the quintessence of Franciscan spirits.
This metal is as very an anathema to these, as the wedge of gold to Achan :
at the offer whereof, he starts back, as Moses from the serpent : yet he car-
ries a boy with him, that takes and carries it ; and never complains of either
metal or measure. I saw, and laughed at it ; and, by this open trick of
hypocrisy, suspected more, more close. How could I choose ? while, com-
monly, the least appears of that which is loathsome in appearance, much more
in nature. — At Namur, on a pleasant and steep hill-top, we found one, that
was termed a married hermit ; approving his wisdom above his fellows, that
could make choice of so cheerful and sociable a solitariness."

280 BISHOP HALL.

ambassador had newly sate down before us. That noble gentle-
man in whose company I travelled, was welcomed with many kind
visitations. Amongst the rest there came to him an English gen-
tleman, who having run himself out of breath in the inns of court,
had forsaken his country, and therewith his religion, and \\a->
turned both bigot and physician, residing now in Bruxells. This
man, after few interchanges of compliment with sir Edmund Bacon,
fell into an hyperbolical predication of the wonderful miracles
done newly * by our lady at Zichem, or Sherpen heavell, that is
Sharp hill ; by Lipsius called Aspricollis ; the credit whereof whun
that worthy knight wittily questioned, he avowed a particular
miracle of cure wrought by her upon himself. I coming into the
room in the midst of this discourse (habited not like a divine,
but in such colour and fashion as might best secure my travel)
and hearing my countryman's zealous and confident relations, at
last asked him this question, " Sir," (quoth I) " Put case this
report of yours be granted for true, I beseech you teach me what
difference there is betwixt these miracles which you say are
wrought by this lady, and those which were wrought by Vespasian,
by some vestals, by charms and spells ; the rather for that I have
noted, in the late published report of these miracles, some patients
prescribed to come upon a Friday, and some to wash in such a
well before their approach; and divers other such charm-like
observations." The gentleman not expecting such a question
from me, answered, " Sir, I do not profess this kind of scholarship,
but we have in the city many famous divines, with whom if it
would please you to confer, you might sooner receive satisfaction."
I asked whom he took for the most eminent divine of that
place : he named to me father Costerus 8, undertaking that he

1 Wonderful miracles done newly. ~] At Sichem, a small town in Brabant,
between Aerschot and Diest, and seated on the Demer, was an old church,
repaired by the archdukes Albert and Isabella, called by .the natives " Scherpen-
heuwel," by the French Notre Dame de Mont-aigu, and in Latin Sacellum Diva
Virginis Aspricollis. In 1G05, the year before his death, Justus Lipsius gave
a long account of the nova beneficia et admiranda operated by the miracle-
working image there preserved, and he dedicated his book to the archduchess
Isabella. At his death he bequeathed to the image his silver pen and his
furred robe, whereupon some one wrote :

" Sensit homo frigere suae miracula Divae,

Crassaque pro calido stragula thure dedit."

2 Costerus."] Franciscus Costerus, Provincial in the Netherlands, afterward^
general of the order at Rome. He was at this time in his 75th year. He
died in 1619.

BISHOP HALL. 281

would be very glad to give me conference, if I would be pleased to
come up to the Jesuits college. I willingly yielded. In the
afternoon the forward gentleman prevented his time to attend
me to the father, (as he styled him,) who (as he said) was
ready to entertain me with a meeting. I went alone up with
him ; the porter shutting the door after me, welcomed me
with a Deo gratias. I had not stayed long in the Jesuits hall,
before Costerus came in to me, who after a friendly salutation,
fell into a formal speech of the unity of that church, out of which
is no salvation, and had proceeded to lose his breath, and labour,
had not I (as civilly as I might) interrupted him with this short
answer ; " Sir, I beseech you mistake me not. My nation tells
you of what religion I am. I come not hither out of any doubt
of my professed belief, or any purpose to change it, but moving a
question to this gentleman, concerning the pretended miracles of
the time, he pleased to refer me to yourself for my answer, which
motion of his I was the more willing to embrace, for the fame
that I have heard of your learning and worth ; and if you can
give me satisfaction herein, I am ready to receive it." Hereupon
we settled to our places, at a table in the end of the hall,
and buckled to a farther discourse. He fell into a poor and
unperfect account of the difference of divine miracles and dia-
bolical ; which I modestly refuted : from thence he slipped into
a cholerick invective against our church, which (as he said)
could not yield one miracle; and when I answered, that in
our church, we had manifest proofs of the ejection of devils by
fasting and prayer, he answered that if it could be proved, that
ever any devil was dispossessed in our church, he would quit his
religion. — Many questions were incidentally traversed by me;
wherein I found no satisfaction given me. The conference was
long and vehement ; in the heat whereof, who should come in
but father Baldwin 3, an English Jesuit, known to me, as by face
(after I came to Brussels) so much more by fame. He sate down
upon a bench at the further end of the table, and heard no small
part of our dissertation, seeming not too well apaid, that a gentle-
man of his nation, (for still I was spoken to in that habit, by the
stile of dominatio vestra) should depart from the Jesuits college

3 Father Baldwin.] William Baldwin, a native of Cornwall, at first professor
of theology at Louvain, and vice-prefect of the English Jesuit mission in the
Netherlands ; afterwards rector of the English seminary at St. Omer. He
died September 28, 1632, aged 69.

282 BISHOP HALL.

no better satisfied. On the next morning therefore he sends the
same English physician to my lodging with a courteous compel-
lation, professing to take it unkindly, that his countryman should
make choice of any other, to confer with, than himself, who
desired both mine acquaintance and full satisfaction. Sir Ed-
mund Bacon, in whose hearing the message was delivered, gave
me secret signs of his utter unwillingness to give way to my fur-
ther conferences, the issue whereof (since we were to pass further,
and beyond the bounds of that protection) might prove dangerous.
I returned a mannerly answer of thanks to father Baldwin ; but
for any further conference, that it were bootless. I could not
hope to convert him, and was resolved he should not alter HK>,
and therefore both of us should rest where we were.

Departing from Brussels we were for Namur, and Liege. In
the way we found the good hand of God, in delivering us from
the danger of free-booters, and of a nightly entrance (amidst a
suspicious convoy) into that bloody city. Thence we came to the
Spadane waters, where I had good leisure to add a second cen-
tury of meditations4 to those 1 had published before my journey.
After we had spent a just time at those medicinal wells, we
returned to Liege, and in our passage up the river Mosa5, I had
a dangerous conflict with a Sorbonist, a prior of the Carmelites,
who took occasion by our kneeling at the receipt of the eucha-
rist, to persuade all the company of our acknowledgment of a
transubstantiation. I satisfied the cavil, shewing upon what
ground * this meet posture obtained with us. The man grew
furious upon his conviction, and his vehement associates began to
join with him, in a right down railing upon our church, and ivli-
gion. I told them they knew where they were : for me, I had
taken notice of the security of their laws, inhibiting any argu-
ment held against their religion established, and therefore stood
only upon my defence, not casting any aspersion upon theirs, but
ready to maintain our own ; which though I performed in as fair
terms as I might, yet the choler of those zealots was so moved
that the paleness of their changed countenances began to threaten

4 Century of Meditations. ,] See " Meditations and Vows," century the third,
dedicated to sir Edmund Bacon. Bp. Hall's Works, vol. i. p. 37, 8. edit.
1634. fol.

* Mosa.'] The Maas.

6 Upon what yround.~] Stc the Rubrics subjoined to the order for Adminis-
tration of the Holy C'oiiiimiinoii, in the Book of Common Pra

BISHOP HALL. 283

some perilous issue, had not sir Edmund Bacon, both by his eye,
and by his tongue, wisely taken me off. I subduced myself
speedily from their presence, to avoid further provocation : the
prior began to bewray some suspicions of my borrowed habit, and
told them, that himself had a green satin suit once prepared for
his travels into England, so as I found it needful for me to lie
close at Namur ; from whence travelling the next day towards
Brussels in the company of two Italian captains, seignior Ascanio
Negro and another whose name I have forgotten : they enquiring
into our nation and religion, wondered to hear that we had any
baptism or churches 7 in England. The congruity of my Latin,
(in respect of their perfect barbarism) drew me and the rest into
their suspicion, so as I might overhear them muttering to each
other, that we were not the men we appeared. Straight the one
of them boldly exprest his conceit, and together with this charge,
began to enquire of our condition. I told them that the gentle-
man he saw before us, was the grandchild of that renowned Bacon,
the great chancellor of England, a man of great birth and quality,
and that myself, and my other companions, travelled in his attend-
ance to the Spa, from the train, and under the privilege of our
late ambassador ; with which just answer I stopped their mouths.
Returning through Brussels we came down to Antwerp, the
paragon of cities ; where my curiosity to see a solemn procession
on St. John Baptist's day might have drawn me into danger
(through my willing unreverence 8) had not the hulk of a tall
Brabanter, behind whom 1 stood in a corner of a street, shadowed

7 Baptism or churches.'] Compare above, Life of Whitgift, vol. iii. pp. 618-
621, and note.

8 Willing unreverence^] When Dr. Edward Pocock, the great oriental
scholar, was on his return from Constantinople, in the year 1640, during
some stay which he made at Genoa, there was (as he would often tell his
friends) " on a certain day, a religious procession, which went through the
streets with all the ceremonial pomp, that is usual on such occasions. And
as he stood in a convenient place, to take a view of it, he was surprised
with the discourse of some persons, at a little distance, who talked in Arabic.
They were a couple of slaves in chains, who being confident that nobody
could understand the language they spake in, expressed their opinions of
what they saw with all manner of freedom. And as they rallied the pageantry
they beheld, with a great deal of wit, so from it they took occasion to ridicule
Christianity itself, and to load it with contempt. So unhappy has the church
of Rome been in her practices on the Christian religion : for whilst to serve
some worldly designs, she hath laboured to engage the minds of the vulgar
sort by empty shows and superstitious solemnities, she hath by those corrupt

284 BISHOP HALL.

me from notice. Thence down the fair river of Scheld, we came
to Flushing, where upon the resolution of our company to stay
some hours, I hasted to Middleburgh to see an ancient college.
That visit lost me my passage ; ere I could return, I might see
our ship under sail for England. The master had with the wind
altered his purpose, and called aboard with such eagerness, that
my company must either away, or undergo the hazard of too
much loss. I looked long after them in vain, and sadly returning
to Middleburgh waited long, for an inconvenient and tempestuous
passage.

After some year and half, it pleased God unexpectedly to con-
trive the change of my station9. My means were but short at
Halsted ; yet such as I often professed, if my then patron would
have added but one ten pounds by year, (which I held to be the
value of my detained due) I should never have removed. One
morning as I lay in my bed, a strong motion was suddenly
glanced into my thoughts of going to London. I rose and
betook me to the way. The ground that appeared of that pur-
pose, was to speak with my patron sir Robert Drury, if by
occasion of the public preachership of St. Edmunds Bury, then
offered me upon good conditions, I might draw him to a willing
yieldance of that parcel of my due maintenance ', which was kept
back from my not over-deserving predecessor. Who hearing my
errand dissuaded me from so ungainful a change, which had it

additions, exposed what is infinitely rational, wise and good, to the laughter
and reproach of infidels." Twell's Life ofPocock, p. 18, prefixed to Pocock's
Theological Works, vol. i. Compare also above,Lt/e ofBilney, vol. ii. p. I7,note.

9 The change of my station.'] See Epistles, Decad. 1. Epist. 9. " I conjecture
he did not much reside here (at Hawsted) ; for during his time there are not
above two years in the register of the same hand. While he did reside, he
preached three times a week. Till within a few years, there was (as I am in-
formed by a gentleman who has seen it) in the parsonage-house, a plate of
lead with his motto, Imum nolo ; Summum nequeo ; Quiesco. Adopted, I
suppose, when he first settled here, and expressive of a mind, not totally
unambitious, yet content : and it is probable, if his situation here had been
comfortable, he would have lived and died in the same obscurity with his
predecessors and successors in this rectory." Cullum's History of Hawsted,
1784, p. 65.

1 My due maintenance.] " Upon his return, he found not that satisfaction
which he expected in this place ; his patron, sir Robert Drury, refusing to
restore to the rectory about ten pounds a year, and insisting, as tradition
reports, upon his acceptance of a modus for the herbage of the park." Cul-
lum's History of Hawsted, p. 65.

BISHOP HALL. 285

been to my sensible advantage, he should have readily given way
unto, but not offering me the expected encouragement of my con-
tinuance ; with him I stayed and preached on the Sunday fol-
lowing. That day sir Robert Drury, meeting with the lord
Denny 2, fell belike into the commendation of my sermon. That
religious and noble lord had long harboured good thoughts con-
cerning me, upon the reading of those poor pamphlets which I
had formerly published: and long wished the opportunity to
know me. To please him in this desire, sir Robert willed me
to go and tender my service to his lordship, which I modestly
and seriously deprecated ; yet upon his earnest charge went to
his lordship's gate, where I was not sorry to hear of his absence.
Being now full of cold and distemper in Drury-lane 3, I was
found out by a friend, in whom I had formerly no great interest,
one Mr. Gurrey 4, tutor to the earl of Essex. He told me how
well my Meditations were accepted at the prince's court (p.
Henry) ; and earnestly advised me to step over to Richmond, and
preach to his highness. I strongly pleaded my indisposition
of body, and my inpreparation for any such work, together with
my bashful fears, and utter unfitness for such a presence. My
averseness doubled his importunity ; in fine, he left me not till
he had my engagement to preach the Sunday following at
Richmond. He made way for me to that awful pulpit, and
encouraged me by the favour of his noble lord the earl of Essex.
I preached : through the favour of my God, that sermon was not
so well given as taken ; in so much as that sweet prince signified
his desire to hear me again the Tuesday following ; which done,
that labour gave more contentment than the former ; so as that
gracious prince, both gave me his hand and commanded me to
his service. My patron seeing me (upon my return to London)
looked after by some great persons, began to wish me at home,
and told me that some or other would be snatching me up. I
answered it was in his power to prevent. Would he be pleased
to make my maintenance but so competent as in right it should
be, I would never stir from him. Instead of condescending, it

" Lord Denny. .] Sir Edward Denny of Waltham, created lord Denny, 27th
October, 1604, and earl of Norwich, 24th October, 1626. He died without
issue, in 1630.

3 Drury-lane'] Where was the town house of the Drury family, which gave
its name to that locality.

1 Mr. Gurrey.'] Thomas Gurrey, M.A., one of the prebendaries of Wolver-
hampton.

286 BISHOP HALL.

pleased him to fall into an expostulation of the rate of com-
petencies, affirming the variableness thereof according to our own
estimation, and our either raising or moderating the causes of
our expences. I showed him the insufficiency of my means :
that I was forced to write books to buy books : shortly, some
harsh and unpleasing answer so disheartened me that I resolved
to embrace the first opportunity of my remove.

Now whilst I was taken up with these anxious thoughts, a
messenger (it was sir Robert Wingfield of Northampton's son)
came to me from the lord Denny, (now earl of Norwich) my
after most honourable patron, entreating me from his lordship to
speak with him. No sooner came I thither, than after a glad
and noble welcome, I was entertained with the earnest offer of
Waltham. The conditions were like the mover of them, free
and bountiful. I received them, as from the munificent hand of
my God ; and returned full of the cheerful acknowledgments of
a gracious providence over me. Too late now did my former
noble patron relent, and offer me those terms which had before
fastened me for ever. I returned home happy in a new master,
and in a new patron ; betwixt whom I divided myself and my
labours, with much comfort and no less acceptation.

In the second year of mine attendance on his highness, when
I came for my dismission from that monthly service, it pleased
the prince to command me a longer stay: and at last mi no
allowed departure, by the mouth of sir Thomas Challonner, his
governor, to tender unto me a motion of more honour and favour
than I was worthy of; which was, that it was his highness1 plea-
sure and purpose, to have me continually resident at the court as
a constant attendant, whilst the rest held on their wonted vicissi-
tudes ; for which purpose his highness would obtain for me such
preferments as should yield me full contentment. I returned my
humblest thanks, and my readiness to sacrifice myself to the ser-
vice of so gracious a master 5, but being conscious to myself of my
unanswerableness to so great expectation, and loth to forsake so
dear and noble a patron, who had placed much of his heart upon
me, I did modestly put it off, and held close to my \Valtham ;
where in a constant course I preached a long time, (as I had done
also at Halstead before) thrice in the week ; yet never durst I
climb into the pulpit, to preach any sermon, whereof I had not
before in my poor and plain fashion, pen n- d < very word in tin-
5 So yracious a master.] Prince Henry died (*«th November, 1612.

BISHOP HALL. 287

same order wherein I hoped to deliver it, although in the expres-
sion I listed not to be a slave to syllables.

In this while my worthy kinsman, Mr. Samuel Burton, arch-
deacon of Glocester, knowing in how good terms I stood at court,
and pitying the miserable condition of his native church of Wol-
verhampton, was very desirous to engage me in so difficult and
noble a service as the redemption of that captivated church. For
which cause he importuned me to move some of my friends, to
solicit the dean of Windsor 6, (who by an ancient annexation 7 is
patron thereof,) for the grant of a particular prebend, when it
should fall vacant in that church. Answer was returned me,
that it was fore promised to one of my fellow chaplains. I sate
down without further expectation. Some year or two after,
hearing that it was become void, and meeting with that fellow
chaplain of mine ; I wished him much joy of the prebend. He
asked me if it were void : I assured him so ; and telling him of
the former answer delivered to me in my ignorance of his engage-
ment, wished him to hasten his possession of it. He delayed not.
When he came to the dean of Windsor, for his promised dis-

(i Dean of Windsor] Most probably Anthony Maxey, who was dean from
1612 to 1618. His predecessor was Giles Thompson, who had been appointed
in 1602.

7 An ancient annexation.] The deanery of Wolverhampton is one of the most
ancient ecclesiastical foundations in England, dating from 996. It was con-
firmed by successive sovereigns. Edward II. granted to many of his free
chapels, amongst which this of Wolverhampton is named, exemption from
all ordinary jurisdiction, with many other privileges. In 1479, Edward IV.
annexed the college, or free chapel, of Wolverhampton to the chapel of Wind-
sor, so that the dean of St. George's, at Windsor, should be dean of the free
chapel of Wolverhampton and prebendary of the first prebend. This grant
was confirmed by act of parliament.

When, in the first year of Edward VI., collegiate churches, free chapels, &c.,
were dissolved, the chapel of St. George, at Windsor, was excepted, but that
of Wolverhampton was seized by the crown. On the 2nd of March, 1553,
shortly before his death, Edward VI. granted it to John Dudley, duke of
Northumberland, who was attainted in the same year, and by queen Mary it
was again annexed to St. George's chapel, at Windsor. This annexation was
confirmed by Elizabeth, and also by James in the eighteenth year of his
reign, when De Dominis was dean. In the eighth of Henry VIII., the
manor and lordship of Wolverhampton were leased by the then dean, John
Harman (or Vessey), to Richard Wrottesley, Esq., and James Leveson, gent.,
at the rent of 38/., and it has ever since been leased at the same rate. In
1801, sir William Pulteney was the lessee, and the lease now belongs to his
heirs. Until the late act for abolishing peculiars, the collegiate church was
subject to no power but that of the sovereign, and, under it, to the perpetual
visitation of the keeper of the great seal.

288 BISHOP HALL.

patch, the dean brought him forth a letter from the prince,
wherein he was desired, and charged to reverse his former engage-
ment (since that other chaplain was otherwise provided for) and
to cast that favour upon me. I was sent for, (who least thought
of it) and received the free collation of that poor dignity. It was
not the value of the place, (which was but nineteen nobles per
annum) that we aimed at, but the freedom of a goodly church,
(consisting of a dean and eight prebendaries competently endowed)
and many thousand souls lamentably swallowed up by wilful
recusants, in a pretended fee-farm8 for ever, — O God, what an
hand hadst thou in the carriage of this work ! when we set foot
in this suit (for another of the prebendaries joined with me) we
knew not wherein to insist, nor where to ground a complaint,
only we knew that a goodly patrimony was by sacrilegious con-
veyance detained from the church. But in the pursuit of it such
marvellous light opened itself unexpectedly to us, in revealing of
a counterfeit zeal, found in the ashes of that burned house of a
false register ; in the manifestation of rasures, and interpolations,
and misdates of unjustifiable evidences, that after many years suit,
the wise and honourable lord chancellor Ellesmere 9 upon a full
hearing, adjudged these two sued-for prebends, clearly to be
returned to the church, untill by common law, they could (if pos-
sibly) be revicted. Our great adversary sir Walter Leveson 10,

8 A pretended fee-farm."] " The farming of benefices was the ordinary prac-
tice in those days," (Henry VIII.) (" see Fox, Acts, &c. vol. iii. p. 167,) and
must not be confounded with fee-farming, which seems to have crept in
shortly afterwards. The latter system is explained to have been a permanent
arrangement, or commutation, and was bitterly inveighed against by Latimer.
This plain-spoken preacher did not scruple to ascribe it to the machinations
of Satan, ' What an unreasonable devil is this ? He provides a great while
beforehand for the time that is to come. He hath brought up now of late
the most monstrous kind of covetousness that ever was heard of. He hath
in vented fee-farming of benefices; and all to decay this office of preaching ;
insomuch that when any man hereafter shall have a benefice, he may go
where he will for any house he shall have to dwell upon, or any glebe land to
keep hospitality withal ; but he must take up a chamber in an ale-house, and
there sit to play at tables all the day. — A goodly curate ! " Sixth Sermon
before king Edward VI. 1549. Cranmer's Rtmaina, ed. Jenkyns, i. 57, note.

9 Lord chancellor Ellesmere.] It may be remarked here, that this judge's
family is now merged in that of the defendant, against whom bishop Hall
makes such strong charges : Lord Ellesmere's very title is now revived in the
person of a lineal descendant of sir Walter Leveson.

10 Sir Walter Leveson.'] In the twelfth year of his reign, James I. granted
the fee of the hundred of Seiston, in Staffordshire, to sir Walter Leveson, knt.

BISHOP HALL. 289

finding it but loss and trouble to struggle for litigious sheaves,
came off to a peaceable composition with me of 40£. per annum
for my part, whereof ten should be to the discharge of my stall
in that church, till the suit should by course of common law be
determined. We agreed upon fair wars. The cause was heard
at the king's bench barr : when a special verdict was given for
us. Upon the death of my partner in the suit, (in whose name
it had now been brought) it was renewed ; a jury empannelled
in the county ; the foreman (who had vowed he would carry it
for sir Walter Leveson howsoever) was before the day, stricken
mad, and so continued ; we proceeded with the same success we
formerly had ; whilst we were thus striving, a word fell from my
adversary, that gave me intimation, that a third dog would per-
haps come in, and take the bone from us both ; which I finding
to drive at a supposed concealment *, happily prevented, for I

The family of Leveson had acquired, at Wolverhampton, great riches by the
wool trade, then called the staple, and the dealers in it merchants. At the
Reformation church lands were sold at a small price, and the title being then
precarious, few persons were willing to become purchasers ; but the family of
Leveson, having money and wishing well to the Reformation, bought many
of these lands, as Trentham, Lillishul, &c. In queen Anne's time, a part of
the estates was sold by another Walter Leveson, to Newport, earl of Bradford,
which part afterwards passed to the Pulteney family. One of the Gowers of
Stittenham, in Yorkshire, married the heiress of the elder branch of the
Levesons, took the name, and seated himself at Trentham ; from him the
property has passed to his descendant, the present duke of Sutherland.

1 A supposed concealment^] "When monasteries were dissolved, and the
lands thereof, and afterwards colleges, chaunteries and fraternities were all
given to the crown, some demesnes here and there pertaining thereunto,
were still privily retained, and possessed by certain private persons, or corpo-
rations, or churches. This caused the queen (Elizabeth] when she under-
stood it, to grant commissions to some persons to search after these conceal-
ments, and to retrieve them to the crown. But it was a world to consider,
what unjust oppressions of the people, and the poor, this occasioned by
some griping men that were concerned therein. For under the pretence of
executing commissions for inquiry to be made for these lands concealed, they,
by colour thereof, and without colour of commission, contrary to all right,
and to the queen's meaning and intent, did intermeddle and challenge lands
of long time possessed by church wardens, and such-like, upon the cha-
ritable gifts of predecessors, to the common benefit of the parishes ....
Further they attempted to make titles to lands, possessions, plate, and goods,
belonging to hospitals, and such-like places, used for maintenance of poor
people ; with many such other unlawful attempts and extortions." Strype's
Annals of the Reformation, vol. ii. p. 209. See also Strype's Life of Parker,
p. 368, 69. 405. 489.

VOL. IV. U

290 BISHOP HALL.

presently addressed myself to his majesty, with a petition for the
renewing the charter of that church ; and the full establishment
of the lands, rights, liberties, thereto belonging : which I easily
obtained from those gracious hands. Now sir Walter Leveson,
seeing the patrimony of the church so fast and safely settled : and
misdoubting what issue those his crazy evidences would find at
the common law, began to incline to offers of peace, and at last
drew him so far, as that he yielded to those too many conditions,
not particularly for myself, but for the whole body of all those
prebends which pertained to the church ; first that he would be
content to cast up that fee-farm, which he had of all the patri-
mony of that church, and disclaiming it, receive that which he
held of the said church by lease, from us the several prebendaries,
for term, whether of years, or (which he rather desired) of lives.
Secondly, that he would raise the maintenance of every prebend,
(whereof some were but forty shillings, others three pounds,
others four, &c.) to the yearly value of thirty pounds to each
man, during the said term of his lease : only for a monument of
my labour and success herein, I required that my prebend might
have the addition of ten pounds per annum, above the fellows.
We were busily treating this happy match for that poor church ;
sir Walter Leveson was not only willing but forward ; the then
dean Mr. Antonius de Dominis2, archbishop of Spalata, gave both
way and furtherance to the dispatch ; all had been most happily
ended, had not the scrupulousness of one or two of the number,
deferred so advantageous a conclusion. In the mean while sir
Walter Leveson dies, leaves his young orphan ward to the king ;
all our hopes were now blown up : an office was found of all those
lands ; the very wonted payments were denied, and I called into
the court of wards, in fair likelihood to forego my former hold,
and yielded possession : but there, it was justly awarded by the
lord treasurer, then master of the wards, that the orphan could
have no more, no other right than the father. I was therefore
left in my former state, only upon public complaint of the hard
condition wherein the orphan was left, I suffered myself to be
over-intreated, to abate somewhat of that evicted composition ;
which work having once firmly settled, in a just pity of the mean
provision, if not the destitution of so many thousand souls, and a

2 De Dominis.] See p. 93, ante. He was dean of Windsor from 1618 to
1G22.

BISHOP HALL. 291

desire, and care, to have them comfortably provided for in the
future, I resigned up the said prebend to a worthy preacher,
Mr. Lee, who should constantly reside there, and painfully
instruct that great and long neglected people ; which he hath
hitherto performed with great mutual contentment and happy
success.

Now during this 22 years which I spent 3 at Waltham ; thrice

3 Which I spent.] To this period we may apply an interesting account
given of his manner of spending his time, in a letter to his patron, lord
Denny.

"Every day is a little life; and our whole life is but a day repeated:
whence it is, that old Jacob numbers his life by days ; and Moses desires to
be taught this point of holy arithmetic, ' to number ' not his years, but
' his days.' Those therefore that dare lose a day, are dangerously prodigal ;
those that dare mispend it, desperate. We can teach others by ourselves :
let me tell your lordship how I would pass my days, whether common or
sacred; and that you, or whosoever others, overhearing me, may either
approve my thriftiness, or correct my errors.

" When sleep is rather driven away than leaves me, I would ever awake
with God. My first thoughts are for him : if my heart be early seasoned
with his presence, it will savour of him all day after. While my body is
dressing, not with an effeminate curiosity, nor yet with rude neglect, my
mind addresses itself to her ensuing task, bethinking what is to be done, and
in what order ; and marshalling, as it may, my hours with my work. That
done, after some meditation, I walk up to my masters and companions, — my
books ; and sitting down amongst them, with the best contentment, I dare
not reach forth my hand to salute any of them till I have first looked up to
heaven, and craved favour of him, to whom all my studies are duly referred ;
without whom, I can neither profit nor labour. After this, out of no over
great variety, I cull forth those, which may best fit my occasions : wherein
I am not too scrupulous of age. Sometimes I put myself to school to one
of those ancients, whom the church hath honoured with the name of Fathers;
whose volumes, I confess not to open, without a secret reverence of their
holiness and sanctity : sometimes, to those later doctors, which want nothing
but age to make them classical : always, to God's Book. That day is lost,
whereof some hours are not improved in those divine monuments. Others I
turn over, out of choice ; these out of duty. Ere I can have sat unto weari-
ness, my family, having now overcome all household distractions, invites
me to our common devotions ; not without some short preparation. These
heartily performed, send me up with a more strong and cheerful appetite
to my former work, which I find made easy to me by intermission and
variety. One while mine eyes are busy; another while my hand; and some-
times my mind takes the burthen from them both. One hour is spent
in textual divinity; another in controversy; histories relieve them both.
When the mind is weary of others' labours, it begins to undertake her own.

u 2

292 BISHOP HALL.

was I commanded and employed abroad by his majesty in public
service.

First in the attendance of the right honourable earl of Carlile4,
(then lord viscount Doncaster) who was sent upon a noble
embassy 5, with a gallant retinue into France ; whose entertain-
ment there, the annals of that nation will tell to posterity. In the
midst of that service was I surprized with a miserable distemper
of body ; which ended in a diarrhoea biliosa, not without some
beginnings and further threats of a dissentery : wherewith I was
brought so low, that there seemed small hope of my recovery.

Sometimes it meditates and winds up for future use ; sometimes it lays forth
her conceits into present discourse: sometimes for itself, often for others.
Neither know I whether it works or plays in these thoughts. I am sure
no sport hath more pleasure ; no work more use : only the decay of a weak
body makes me think these delights insensibly laborious. Before my meals
and after, I let myself loose from all thoughts, and would forget that I ever
studied. Company, discourse, recreations, are now seasonable and welcome.
I rise not immediately from my trencher to my book, but after some inter-
mission. After my later meal, my thoughts are slight ; only my memory
may be charged with the task of recalling what was committed to her
custody in the day ; and my heart is busy in examining my hands and mouth,
and all other senses, of that day's behaviour. The evening is come : no
tradesman doth more carefully take in his wares, clear his shop-board, and
shut his windows, than I would shut up my thoughts, and clear my mind.
That student shall live miserably, which, like a camel, lies down under his
burthen. All this done, calling together my family, we end the day with
God. — Such are only common days.

" But God's day calls for another respect. The same sun arises on this day,
and enlightens it : yet because that Sun of Righteousness arose upon it, and
gave a new life unto the world in it, and drew the strength of God's moral
precept into it ; therefore, justly do we sing with the psalmist, This is the day
which the Lord hath made. Now, I forget the world, and in a sort, myself:
and deal, with my wonted thoughts, as great men use, who, at some times of
their privacy, forbid the access of all suitors. Prayer, meditation, reading,
hearing, preaching, singing, good conference, are the businesses of this day ;
which I dare not bestow on any work or pleasure, but heavenly; I hate
superstition on the one side, and looseness on the other : but I find it hard to
offend in too much devotion : easy, in profaneness. The whole week is
sanctified by this day : and according to my care of this, is my blessing on
the rest." Works, vol. vii. p. 254—6.

4 Earl of Carlile.'] James Hay. He was grandson of Hall's patron, the
earl of Norwich, to whose barony of Denny he succeeded in 1630. This
relationship accounts for Lord Carlisle's patronage of Hall.

' A noble embassy.'] To congratulate Louis XIII. on his marriage with
Anne of Austria.

BISHOP HALL. 293

Mr. Peter Moulin 6 (to whom I was beholden for his frequent visi-
tations) being sent by my lord ambassador, to inform him of my
estate, brought him so sad news thereof, as that he was much
afflicted therewith, well supposing his welcome to Waltham could
not but want much of the heart without me. Now the time of
his return drew on, Dr. Moulin kindly offered to remove me,
upon his lordship's departure, to his own house, promising me all
careful attendance. I thanked him, but resolved, if I could but
creep homewards to put myself upon the journey. A litter was
provided, but of so little ease, that Simeon's penitential lodging,
or a malefactor's stocks, had been less penal. I crawled down
from my close chamber into that carriage, In qua mdebaris mi/ii
efferri, tanquam in sandapila, as Mr. Moulin wrote to me after-
ward ; that misery had I endured in all the long passage from
Paris to Dieppe, being left alone to the surly muleteers, had not
the providence of my good God brought me to St. Germains,
upon the very setting out of those coaches, which had stayed
there upon that morning's entertainment of my lord ambassador.
How glad was I that I might change my seat, and my company.
In the way, beyond all expectation, I began to gather some
strength ; whether the fresh air, or the desires of my home
revived me, so much, and so sudden reparation ensued, as was
sensible to myself, and seemed strange to others. Being shipped
at Dieppe the sea used us hardly, and after a night, and a great
part of the day following, sent us back well wind-beaten, to that
bleak haven whence we set forth, forcing us to a more pleasing
land passage, through the coasts of Normandy and Picardy;
towards the end whereof, my former complaint returned upon me,
and landing with me, accompanied me to, and at my long desired
home. In this my absence it pleased his majesty, graciously, to
confer upon me the deanry of Worcester 7, which being promised
to me before my departure, was deeply hazarded whilst I was out
of sight, by the importunity and underhand working of some
great ones. Dr. Field8, the learned and worthy dean of Glocester,
was by his potent friends put into such assurances of it, that I

6 Peter Moulin.'] Pierre du Moulin, the elder.

7 Deanry of Worcester.'] In the year 16 16. Le Neve's Fasti, p. 310.

8 Dr. Field.'] Richard Field, appointed dean of Gloucester in 1609. He
died 21st November, 1616. It is sufficient to name his celebrated work " Of
the Church, four books." Fuller calls him " that learned divine, whose memory
smelleth like a Field the Lord hath blessed." See p. 101, ante.

294 BISHOP HALL.

heard where he took care for the furnishing that ample house.
But God fetched it about for me, in that absence and nescience
of mine ; and that reverend, and better deserving divine, was well
satisfied with greater hopes ; and soon after exchanged this
mortal estate, for an immortal and glorious.

Before I could go down through my continuing weakness, to
take possession of that dignity, his majesty pleased to design me
to his attendance into Scotland 9 ; where the great love, and re-
spect that I found, both from the ministers and people, wrought
me no small envy, from some of our own. Upon a commonly
received supposition, that his majesty would have no further use
of his chaplains, after his remove from Edinborough, (for as
much as the divines of the country, whereof there is great store
and worthy choice, were allotted to every station) I easily ob-
tained, through the solicitation of my ever honoured lord of Car-
lile, to return with him before my fellows. No sooner was I gone,
than suggestions were made to his majesty of my over plausible
demeanour and doctrine to that already prejudicate people, for
which his majesty, after a gracious acknowledgment of my good
service there done, called me upon his return to a favourable and
mild account ; not more freely professing what informations had
been given against me, than his own full satisfaction, with my
sincere and just answer; as whose excellent wisdom well saw
that such winning carriage of mine could be no hinderance to
those his great designs. At the same time his majesty having
secret notice, that a letter was coming to me from Mr. W.
Struther, a reverend and learned divine of Edinborough, con-
cerning the five points *, then proposed, and urged to the church
of Scotland, was pleased to impose upon me an earnest charge,
to give him a full answer in satisfaction to those his modest
doubts ; and at large to declare my judgment concerning those
required observations, which I speedily performed with so great

9 Into Scotland.] See Heylin's Life of Archbishop Laud, p. 73—5, 78—9.

1 The Jive points.'] " Afterwards called the five Articles of Perth. The
articles at large are to be found in the histories of those times : but in
short they contained (I) the kneeling at the communion; (2) private com-
munion at sick people's request; (3) private Baptism; (4) confirmation of
children; (5) observation of festivals." Memoirs of the Church of Scotland,
p. 162, A.D. 1717. See also Spotswood's Hist, of the Church of Scotland,
fol. 539. Heylin's Life of Laud, p. 78. The king's design in these mea-
sures was to bring the church of Scotland to a nearer conformity with that of
England.

BISHOP HALL. 295

approbation of his majesty, that it pleased him to command a
transcript thereof, as I was informed, publicly to be read in their
most famous university : the effect whereof his majesty vouch-
safed to signifie afterwards unto some of my best friends, with
allowance beyond my hopes.

It was not long after, that his majesty finding the exigence of
the affairs of the Netherlandish churches to require it, both
advised them to a synodical decision, and by his incomparable
wisdom promoted the work. My unworthiness was named for
one of the assistants of that honourable grave and reverend
meeting, where I failed not of my best service to that woefully
distracted church. By that time I had stayed some two months
there, the unquietness of the nights, in those garrison towns,
working upon the tender disposition of my body, brought me to
such weakness through want of rest, that it began to disable me
from attending the synod, which yet as I might, I forced myself
unto as wishing that my zeal could have discountenanced my
infirmity ; wherein the mean time, it is well worthy of my thank-
ful remembrance, that being in an afflicted and languishing con-
dition, for a fortnight together with that sleepless distemper, yet
it pleased God, the very night before I was to preach the Latin
sermon 2 to the synod to bestow upon me such a comfortable
refreshing of sufficient sleep, as whereby my spirits were revived,
and I was enabled with much vigour and vivacity to perform that
service ; which was no sooner done than my former complaint
renewed upon me, and prevailed against all the remedies that the
counsel of physicians could advise me unto ; so as after long
strife, I was compelled to yield unto a retirement (for the time)
to the Hague, to see if change of place and more careful attend-
ance, which I had in the house of our right honourable ambassa-

2 The Latin sermon.'] See Kale's Golden Remains, p. 381, &c. The best
account of the proceedings of this far-famed synod of Dort may be found
in the letters of the ever-memorable John Hales of Eton College, printed in
his Golden Remains. See particularly the Latin edition of those letters,
published by Mosheim at Hamburgh, A.D. 1724. The Canons of this synod
are inserted in the Corpus et Syntagma Confessionum ; and the Acta were
printed at Leyden 1620 in fol. : see also Limborch's Life of Episcopius,
Fuller's Church Hist, book 10, p. 77—86. Heylin's Life of Laud, p. 79, &c.
Heylin's Hist, of the Presbyterians, p. 401, &c. Hickman's Animadversions
on Dr. Heylin, p. 405 — 22. The magnificent copy of the Acta Synodi Dor-
drechtensis which belonged to James I., bound in crimson velvet, embroidered
in gold, is now preserved in the old Royal Library in the British Museum.

296 BISHOP HALL.

dor, the lord Carleton 3 (now viscount Dorchester) might recover
me. But when notwithstanding all means, my weakness increased
so far, as that there was small likelihood left of so much strength
remaining, as might bring me back into England, it pleased his
gracious majesty by our noble ambassador's solicitation, to call
me off, and to substitute a worthy divine Mr. Dr. Goade * in my
unwillingly forsaken room. Returning by Dort, I sent in my sad
farewel to that grave assembly, who by common vote sent to me
the president of the synod, and the assistants, with a respective
and gracious valediction ; neither did the deputies of my lords
the states neglect (after a very respectful compliment sent from
them to me by Daniel Heinsius) to visit me ; and after a noble
acknowledgment of more good service from me than I durst own,
dismissed me with an honourable retribution, and sent after me a
rich medal of gold, the portraiture of the synod, for a precious
monument of their respects to my poor endeavours, who failed
not whilest I was at the Hague, to impart unto them my poor
advice concerning the proceeding of that synodical meeting.
The difficulties of my return in such weakness were many and
great; wherein, if ever, God manifested his special providence
to me, in over-ruling the cross accidents of that passage, and after
many dangers and despairs, contriving my safe arrival.

After not many years settling at home, it grieved my soul, to
see our own church begin to sicken * of the same disease which
we had endeavoured to cure in our neighbours. Mr. Montague's *
tart and vehement assertions of some positions, near of kin to
the Remonstrants of Netherland, gave occasion of raising no
small broil in the church. Sides were taken, pulpits every where
rang of these opinions ; but parliament took notice of the divi-
sion, and questioned the occasioner. Now as one that desired to

8 Lord Carleton.'] Sir Dudley Carlton, created lord Carlton in 1628; vis-
count Dorchester, 25th July, 1628. He died in 1631.

4 Mr. Dr. Goade.'} Thomas Goad, S.T.P., chantor of St. Paul's in London,
prebendary of Hilton, in the collegiate church of Wolverhampton, and chap-
lain to archbishop Abbot.

* Begin to sicken.'] See Fuller's Church History, book 10, p. 119, &c.
Heylin's Life of Laud, p. 124 — 7. Also bishop Hall's Way of Peace in the

five busy Articles of Arminius. Parliamentary Hist. 6, 7.

* Mr. Montague's.] Richard Mountague, or Montagu, who was not con-
nected with the noble family of that name, was the son of Laurence Mon-
tague, minister of Dorney, in Buckinghamshire : he was bishop successively
of Chichester in 1628, and of Norwich in 1638. He died in 164 1.

BISHOP HALL. 297

do all good offices to our dear and common mother, I set my
thoughts on work, how so dangerous a quarrel might be happily
composed ; and finding that mis-taking was more guilty of this
dissention than mis-believing ; (since it plainly appeared to me,
that Mr. Montague meant to express, not Arminius 7, but bishop
Overall, a more moderate and safe author, however he sped in
delivery of him ;) I wrote a little project of pacification 8, wherein
I desired to rectify the judgment of men, concerning this misap-
prehended controversy, shewing them the true parties in this un-
seasonable plea; and because bishop Overall went a midway,

7 To express, not Arminius^] On this subject Mountague shall best speak for
himself. It would be well if his wise and noble sentiments could make
their due impression upon many shallow controversialists in our own days.

" I disavow the name and title of Arminian. I am no more Arminian
than they are Gomarians ; not so much in all probability. They delight, it
seemeth, to be called after men's names ; for anon they stick not to call
themselves Calvinists ; which title, though more honourable than Gomarian
or Arminian, I am not so fond of, or doting upon, but I can be content to
leave it unto those that affect it, and hold it reputation to be so instiled. I
am not, nor would be accounted willingly Arminian, Calvinist, or Lutheran
(names of division) but a Christian. For my faith was never taught by the
doctrine of men. I was not baptized into the belief, or assumed by grace
into the family of any of these, or of the pope. I will not pin my belief unto
any man's sleeve, carry he his head ever so high ; not unto St. Augustin, or
any ancient father, nedum unto men of lower rank. A Christian I am, and
so glory to be j only denominated of Christ Jesus my Lord and Master, by
whom I never was as yet so wronged, that I would relinquish willingly that
royal title, and exchange it for any of his menial servants. And further yet
I do profess, that I see no reason why any member of the Church of England,
a church every way so transcendant unto that of Leyden and Geneva, should
lowt so low as to denominate himself of any of the most eminent amongst
them ....

"Again for Arminianism, I must and do protest before God and his
angels, idque in verbo sacerdotis, the time is yet to come that ever I read
word in Arminius. The course of my studies was never addressed to modern
epitomizers : but from my first entrance to the study of divinity, I balked
the ordinary and accustomed by-paths of Bastingius's Catechism, Fenner's
Divinity, Bucanus' Common Places, Trelcatius, Polanus, and such-like ; and
betook myself to Scripture the rule of faith, interpreted by antiquity, the
best expositor of faith, and applier of that rule : holding it a point of dis-
cretion, to draw water, as near as I could to the well-head, and to spare
labour in vain, in running further off, to cisterns and lakes. I went to
enquire, when doubt was, of the days of old, as God himself directed me : and
hitherto I have not repented me of it." Mountague's Appello Ctssarem, p. 10.

8 A little project of pacificationJ] The way of Peace in the five busy articles
commonly known by the name of Arminius.

298 BISHOP HALL.

betwixt the two opinions which he held extreme, and must needs
therefore somewhat differ from the commonly-received tenet in
these points, I gathered out of bishop Overall on the one side,
and out of our English divines at Dort on the other, such common
propositions concerning these five busy articles, as wherein both
of them are fully agreed ; all which being put together, seemed
unto me to make up so sufficient a body of accorded truth, that
all other questions moved hereabouts, appeared merely super-
fluous, and every moderate Christian might find where to rest
himself, without hazard of contradiction. These I made bold by
the hands of Dr. Young9 the worthy dean of Winchester, to
present to his excellent majesty, together with a humble motion of
a peaceable silence to be enjoined to both parts, in those other
collateral, and needless disquisitions : which if they might befit
the schools of academical disputants, could not certainly sound
well from the pulpits of popular auditories. Those reconciliatory
papers fell under the eyes of some grave divines on both parts.
Mr. Montague professed that he had seen them, and would
subscribe to them very willingly; others that were contrarily
minded, both English, Scotish, and French divines, profered
their hands to a no less ready subscription ; so as much peace
promised to result out of that weak and poor enterprise, had
not the confused noise of the misconstructions of those who
never saw the work, (crying it down for the very name^s sake)
meeting with the royal edict of a general inhibition, buried it in
a securfe silence. I was scorched a little with this flame which I
desired to quench; yet this could not stay my hand from
thrusting itself into an hotter fire.

Some insolent Komanists (Jesuits especially) in their bold dis-
putations (which in the time of the treaty of the Spanish match ',
and the calm of that relaxation were very frequent,) pressed

• Dr. Young.] John Young, installed 8th July, 16 16.

1 The Spanish match.] " We have little news, either of the great business,
or of any other, though messengers come weekly out of Spain : and I con-
ceive that matters are yet very doubtful. The new chapel for the Infanta
goes on in building, and our London papists report that the angels descend
every niyht and build part of it. Here hath been lately a conference betwcn
one Fisher a jesuite and one Sweete on the one side ; and Dr. Whyte and
Dr. Featly on the other. The question was of the antiquity and succession of
the Church. It is said we shall have it printed." Sir Henry Bourgchier to
Abp. Ussher, then bishop of Meath, dated July U, 1623. Ussher'sLi/e and
Letters, p. 89. See also Wren's Parentalia, p. 27.

BISHOP HALL. 299

nothing so much, as a catalogue of the professors of our religion
to be deduced from the primitive times, and with the peremptory
challenge of the impossibility of this pedigree dazzled the eyes of
the simple ; whilst some of our learned men 2, undertaking to

2 Some of our learned men.'] The question which the priests and Jesuits
continually ingeminated was, " Where was your church before Luther ? "
Of " The learned men," of whose mode of reply to this interrogatory the
bishop, not without solid reason, expresses his disapprobation ; two I appre-
hend, were persons of no less dignity than the English and Irish primates of
that day : the former, Dr. George Abbot, in his book of the Visibility of the
Church, and the latter, Dr. James Ussher, in his De Ecclesiarum Christianarum
successione et statu. Abbot, as Dr. Heylin tells us, could not find any visi-
bility of the Christian church, but by tracing it, as well as he could, from the
Berengarians to the Albigenses, from the Albigenses to the Wickliffists, from
the Wickliffists unto the Hussites, and from the Hussites unto Luther and
Calvin (Life of Laud, p. 53), whereas as bishop Hall observes, "Valdus,
Wickliffe, Luther, did never go about to frame a new church, which was not,
but to cleanse, restore, reforme that church which was."

" Hence may be answered that which Rome brings as her Achilles,
touching the succession and visibility of the Protestants* church and doc-
trine in all ages since Christ : for if theirs (that of Rome) have had such
succession and visibility, it is impossible to say that the Protestants' church
has not had them also ; the former (the church of Rome) only adding more
articles for a Christian to believe, which the latter will not embrace as
needful. . . . ' Protestants ' (says Stapleton, Fortress of Faith, at the end of
Bede's Hist. fol. 47 b.) 'have many things less than papists; they have
taken away many things which papists had; they have added nothing.'
And here, therefore, to my understanding, the Romanists require of us
what lies on their part to prove. For, we, denying, in the succession of
bishops from Cranmer, and Warham, even to Augustine, and so of the
Britons, ever any one to have held the points which we differ in, to have
been points of faith, in that degree of necessity in which they are now
required ; and, for proof, citing not only the Apostles', Nicene, and Athana-
sian Creeds, but even that of Peckham, which we find so to differ from that
late one, set out by Pius IV. — as we cannot but say, it is unjust in them to
press us to a profession in religion further than our ancestors were required ;
so, they on the contrary, affirming all those holy bishops preceding, not only
to have believed those articles which themselves now do, but also that they
did require them of others with the like necessity in which they are now
required, ought certainly to prove what they thus boldly affirm : which when
they have done, truly for my part I shall think fit to yield ; but till they do
it, let them cease from proclaiming us heretics, who hold no other than the
ancient faith at first delivered unto us.

" But this, as a point rather dogmatical for divines, than historical, the
subject I undertook, I shall not here further wade into." Twisden's Histo-
rical Vindication, p. 198.

300 BISHOP HALL.

satisfy so needless and unjust a demand, gave, as I conceived,
great advantage to the adversary. In a just indignation to see
us thus wronged by mis-stating the question betwixt us, as if we,
yielding ourselves of an other church, originally and fundamentally
different, should make good our own erection upon the ruins,
yea, the nullity of theirs, and well considering the infinite and
great inconveniences, that must needs follow upon this defence 3,
I adventured to set my pen on work; desiring to rectify the
opinions of those men, whom an ignorant zeal had transported, to
the prejudice of our holy cause, laying forth the damnable cor-
ruptions of the Roman church, yet making our game of the outward
visibility thereof, and by this means putting them to the probation
of those newly obtruded corruptions which are truly guilty of the
breach betwixt us ; the drift whereof, being not well conceived,
by some spirits *, that were not so wise as fervent, I was suddenly
exposed to the rash censures of many well affected and zealous
protestants, as if I had in a remission to my wonted zeal to the
truth attributed too much to the Roman church, and strengthened
the adversaries hands and weakened our own. This envy I was

3 Upon this defence. ~\ The bishop here alludes to the practices and judg-
ment of Zanchius, Perkins, Whittaker, &c. See The Apologetical Advertise-
ment. Works, vol. ii. p. 49. 55. part 2. fol.

4 By some spirits. .] Sanderson, afterwards bishop of Lincoln, in that part
of the famous Preface to his Sermons, bearing date July 13, 1657, in which
he shews the advantages which the Puritan writers gave to the Romish party,
by the unsoundness of their reasonings, and their extreme intolerance ; and
the much greater progress which popery was making in England towards
the latter end of the commonwealth through their incapacity, than it had ever
done before, remarks that "They promoted the interest of Rome and betrayed
the Protestant Cause, partly by mistaking the question (a very common fault
among them,) but especially through the necessity of some false principle or
other, which having once imbibed, they think themselves bound to maintain.
.... Among those false principles^ it shall suffice for the present to have
named but this one, That the Church with Rome is no true Church. The dis-
advantages of which assertion to our cause in the dispute about the visibility
of the church (besides the falseness and uncharitableness of it) their zeal, or
prejudice rather, will not suffer them to consider. With what out-cries was
bishop Hall, good man, (who little dreamt of any peace with Rome) pursued
by Burton and other hot-spurs, for yielding it a church ! who had made the
same concession over and over again before he was bishop (as Junius, Rey-
nolds, and our best controversy writers generally do,) and no notice taken,
no noise made about it." P. 79, edit. 1689. Or, Christian Institutes, vol. iv.
p. 571.

BISHOP HALL. 301

fain to take off by my speedy " Apologetical Advertisement," and
after that by my " Reconciler 3," seconded with the unanimous
letters of such reverend, learned, sound divines 8, both bishops and
doctors, as whose undoubtable authority, was able to bear down
calumny itself. Which done I did by a seasonable moderation
provide for the peace of the church, in silencing both my defendants
and challengers, in this unkind and ill-raised quarrel.

Immediately before the publishing of this tractate, (which did
not a little aggravate the envy and suspicion) I was by his
majesty raised to the bishopric of Exeter 7, having formerly (with
much humble deprecation) refused the see of Gloucester earnestly
proffered unto me. How beyond all expectation it pleased God
to place me in that western charge ; which (if the duke of
Buckingham's letters, he being then in France 8, had arrived but
some hours sooner) I had been defeated of ; and by what strange
means it pleased God to make up the competency of that pro-
vision, by the unthought of addition of the rectory of St. Breok
within that diocese, if I should fully relate, the circumstances
would force the confession of an extraordinary hand of God in
the disposing of those events.

I entered upon that place, not without much prejudice and
suspicion on some hands ; for some that sate at the stern of the
church, had me in great jealousy for too much favour9 of
Puritanism. I soon had intelligence who were set over me for
espials ; my ways were curiously observed and scanned. How-
ever, I took the resolution to follow those courses which might
most conduce to the peace and happiness of my new and weighty
charge ; finding therefore some factious spirits very busy in that
diocese, I used all fair and gentle means to win them to good
order ; and therein so happily prevailed that (saving two of that
numerous clergy, who continuing in their refractoriness fled away
from censure,) they were all perfectly reclaimed ; so as I had
not one minister professedly opposite to the anciently received
orders (for I was never guilty of urging any new impositions *)

6 My " Reconciler."] See Works, vol. ii. part 2. p. 57 — 99.

6 Sound divines.] B. Morton, B. Davenant, Dr. Prideaux, Dr. Primrose.

7 The bishopric of Exeter] He was elected Nov. 5, and consecrated
Dec. 23, 1627.

8 Then in France] In the expedition to the Isle of Rhe.

9 Too much favour] See Works, vol. i. p. 294. Heylin's Life of Laud,
p. 54.

1 Any new impositions] Here is a reflexion, designed, no doubt, to point

302 BISHOP HALL.

of the church in that large diocese. Thus we went on com-
fortably together, till some persons of note in the clergy, being
guilty of their own negligence and disorderly courses, began to
envy our success ; and finding me ever ready to encourage those
whom I found conscionably forward and painful in their places,
and willingly giving way to orthodox and peaceable lectures in
several parts of my diocese, opened their mouths against me,
both obliquely in the pulpit, and directly at the court ; complain-
ing of my too much indulgence to persons disaffected, and my
too much liberty of frequent lecturings within my charge. The
billows went so high that I was three several times upon my
knee to his majesty, to answer these great criminations ; and
what contestation 1 had with some great lords concerning these
particulars, it would be too long to report ; only this ; under
how dark a cloud I was hereupon, I was so sensible, that I
plainly told the lord archbishop of Canterbury, that rather than I
would be obnoxious to those slanderous tongues of his misin-
formers, I would cast up my rochet. I knew I went right ways,
and would not endure to live under undeserved suspicions. What
messages of caution I had from some of my wary brethren, and
what expostulatory letters I had from above, I need not relate. Sure
I am I had peace, and comfort at home, in the happy sense of that
general unanimity, and loving correspondence of my clergy ; till
in the last year of my presiding there, after the synodical oath 2

against archbishop Laud. It may be but fair then, to see what the arch-
bishop had to say for himself respecting this charge of imposition, when he
had the opportunity of being heard, after being ^axed for it, in parliament,
by one of his bitterest adversaries.

" In the mean time, since I am the man so particularly shot at, I shall
answer for myself according to truth ; — and with truth which I can legally
prove, if need be. I have not commanded or enjoined any one thing, cere-
monial, or other, upon any parochial congregation in England, much less
upon all, to be either practised, or suffered, but that which is directly com-
manded by law. And if any inferior ordinary in the kingdom, or any of my
own officers have given any such command, it is either without my know-
ledge, or against my direction. And it is well known, I have sharply chid
some for this very particular. And if my lord " (lord Say) " would have
acquainted me with any such troubled thoughts of his, I would have given
him, so far as had been in my power, either satisfaction or remedy." Laud's
Answer to Lord Say's Speech. Troubles, fyc. p. 499.

2 The synodical oath.'] The oath contained in the sixth canon of 1640,
called also the etcetera oath, the object of which was to declare an approba-
tion of the doctrine and discipline of the church of England, as containing

BISHOP HALL. 303

was set on foot, (which yet I did never tender to any one
minister of my diocese) by the incitation of some busy inter-
lopers of the neighbour county, some of them began to enter
into an unkind contestation with me, about the election of clerks
of the convocation ; whom they secretly, without ever acquainting
me with their desire or purpose (as driving to that end which we
see now accomplished) would needs nominate and set up in com-
petition to those, whom I had (after the usual form) recommended
to them. That they had a right to free voices in that choice, I
denied not ; only I had reason to take it unkindly, that they
would work underhand without me, and against me ; professing
that if they had before hand made their desires known to me, I
should willingly have gone along with them in their election. It
came to the poll. Those of my nomination carried it. The
parliament began. After some hard tugging there, returning
home upon a recess I was met on the way, and cheerfully
welcomed with some hundreds. In no worse terms, I left that
my once dear diocese : when returning to Westminster, I was
soon called by his majesty (who was then in the north) to a remove
to Norwich 3 : but how I took the Tower in my way ; and how
I have been dealt with since my repair hither, I could be lavish
in the sad report, ever desiring my good God to enlarge my heart
in thankfulness to him, for the sensible experience I have had
of his fatherly hand over me, in the deepest of all my afflictions,
and to strengthen me, for whatsoever other trials he shah1 be
pleased to call me unto ; that being found faithful unto the
death, I may obtain that crown of life, which he hath ordained
for all those that overcome.

all things necessary to salvation, " and an avowal to maintain it against both
papists and puritans. But nothing raised so much noise and clamour as the
oath required by the sixth canon ; exclaimed against both from the pulpit
and the press ; reproached in printed pamphlets, and unprinted scribbles ;
and glad they were to find such an excellent advantage, as the discovering of
an Sfc. in the body of it did unhappily give them." Heylin's Life of Laud,
p. 443. The clause in which this unhappy oversight occurred, (for it was
probably nothing more) stood thus : " Nor will I ever give my consent to
alter the government of this church by archbishops, bishops, deans and
archdeacons, &c. as it stands now established, and as by right it ought to
stand ; nor yet ever to subject it to the usurpations and superstitions of the
see of Rome." Sparrow's Canons, &c. p. 359, A.D. IC75.

3 To a remove to Norwich.'] He was elected, November 15, 1641.

304 BISHOP HALL.

BISHOP HALL'S HARD MEASURE.

NOTHING could be more plain, than that upon the call of this
parliament l, and before, there was a general plot and resolution
of the faction to alter the government of the church especially.
The height and insolency of some church-governors, as was con-
ceived, and the ungrounded imposition of some innovations * upon
the churches both of Scotland and England, gave a fit hint to
the project. In the vacancy therefore before the summons, and
immediately after it, there was great working 3 secretly for the
designation and election as of knights and burgesses, so especially
(beyond all former use) of the clerks of convocation ; when now
the clergy were stirred up to contest with, and oppose their dio-
cesans, for the choice of such men as were most inclined to the
favour of an alteration. The parliament was no sooner set, than
many vehement speeches were made against established church-
government, and enforcement of extirpation both root and branch.
And because it was not fit to set upon all at once, the resolution
was to begin with those bishops which had subscribed to the
canons * then lately published upon the shutting up of the former
parliament ; whom they would first have had accused of treason ;

1 This parliament."] The Long Parliament, according to the name which it
afterwards earned to itself. It began Nov. 3, 16 10.

3 Innovations.'] See Heylin's Life of Laud, p. 443—5, edit. 1671 ; and Hist,
of Nonconformity, p. 345, or Baxter's Life, &c. p. 369.

3 There was great working.] " I was indeed sorry to hear, with what par-
tiality and popular heat elections were carried on in many places ; yet hoping
that the gravity and discretion of other gentlemen would allay and fix the
commons in a due temperament, guiding some men's well-meaning zeal by
such rules of moderation as are best both to preserve and restore the health
of all states and kingdoms, — no man was better pleased with the convening
of this parliament than myself; who knowing best the largeness of my own
heart towards my people's good and just contentment, pleased myself most
in that good and firm understanding, which would hence grow between me
and my people." — Jc6n Easilike ; the Portraiture of his sacred Majesty in his
Solitudes and Sufferings, chap. i.

4 To the canons.'] Viz. of 1640. See Sparrow's Collection of Articles, In-
junctions, Canons, &c. p. 335—74.

BISHOP HALL. 305

but that not appearing feasible, they thought best to indite them s
of very high crimes and offences against the king, the parliament,

5 To indite them.'] On the llth March, 1640-1, the commons resolved
" that for bishops or any other clergyman whatsoever to be in the commission
of the peace, or to have any judicial power in the star-chamber, or in any
civil court, is a hindrance to their spiritual function, prejudicial to the com-
monwealth, and fit to be taken away;" and, on the 1st of May following, a
bill to that effect passed the commons, and was sent up to the lords, where it
was read a first time. On that day, bishop Hall (Exeter) delivered the fol-
lowing admirable speech, which is preserved in his Works, vol. x. p. 70-2,
and in the Parliamentary History.

" My lords,

"This is the strangest bill that I ever heard of, since I was admitted to
sit under this roof: for it strikes at the very fabric and composition of this
house ; at the stile of all laws ; and therefore, were it not that it comes from
such a recommendation, it would not, I suppose, undergo any long consider-
ation : but, coming to us from such hands, it cannot but be worthy of your
best thoughts.

" And, truly, for the main scope of the bill, I shall yield it most willingly,
that ecclesiastical and sacred persons should not ordinarily be taken up with
secular affairs. The minister is called vir Dei, a man of God : he may not
be vir seculi. He may lend himself to them, upon occasion : he may not
give himself over purposely to them. Shortly, he may not 50 attend worldly
things, as that he do neglect divine things. This we gladly yield. Matters
of justice, therefore, are not proper, as an ordinary trade, for our function ;
and, by my consent, shall be, as in a generality, waved and deserted : which,
for my part, I never have meddled with, but in a charitable way ; with no
profit, but some charge to myself, whereof I shall be glad to be eased. Trac-
tentfabriliafabri j as the old word is.

" But if any man shall hence think fit to infer that some spiritual person
may not occasionally be in a special service of his king or country ; and,
when he is so required by his prince, give his advice in the urgent affairs of
the kingdom, which I suppose is the main point driven at; it is such an
inconsequence, as I dare boldly say cannot be made good, either by divinity
or reason ; by the laws either of God or man : whereas the contrary may be
proved and enforced by both.

" As for the grounds of this bill, that the minister's duty is so great, that
it is able to take up the whole man, and the apostle saith, Tu; iKavog ; who is
sufficient for these things ? and that he, who warfares to God should not entangle
himself with this world ; it is a sufficient and just conviction of those, who
would divide themselves betwixt God and the world, and bestow any main
part of their time upon secular affairs : but it hath no operation at all upon
this tenet, which we have in hand • that a man dedicate to God, may not so
much as, when he is required, cast a glance of his eye, or some minutes of
time, or some motives of his tongue, upon the public business of his king
and country. Those that expect this from us, may as well, and upon the
same reason, hold that a minister must have no family at all ; or, if he have

VOL. IV. X

306 BISHOP HALL.

and kingdom, which was prosecuted with great earnestness bysome
prime lawyers in the house of commons, and entertained with like

one, must not care for it : yea, that he must have no body to tend, but be all
tpirit.

" My lords, we are men of the same composition with others ; and our
breeding hath been accordingly. We cannot have lived in the world, without
having seen it, and observed it too : and our long experience and conversa-
tion, both in men and in books, cannot but have put something into us for
the good of others : and now, having a double capacity, qua cites, qua eccle-
siastici, as members of the commonwealth, as ministers and governors of the
church ; we are ready to do our best service in both. One of them is no way
incompatible with the other : yea, the subjects of them both are so united
with the church and commonwealth, that they cannot be severed : yea so, as
that, not the one is in the other, but the one is the other, is both : so as the
services which we do upon these occasions to the commonwealth, are insepa-
rable from our good offices to the church : so that, upon this ground, there is
no reason of our exclusion

" But, I fear it is not on some hands, the tender regard of the full scope
of our calling, that is so much here stood upon, as the conceit of too much
honour, that is done us, in taking up the room of peers, and voting in this
high court : for surely, those that are averse from our votes, yet could be
content, we should have place upon the woolsacks ; and could allow us ears,
but not tongues.

" If this be the matter, I beseech your lordships to consider that this
honour is not done to us, but to our profession ; which whatever we be in our
several persons, cannot easily be capable of too much respect from your lord-
ships. Non tibi, sed Isidi ; as he said of old.

" Neither is this any new grace, that is put upon our calling ; which, if it
were now to begin, might perhaps be justly grudged to our unworthiness :
but it is an ancient right and inheritance, inherent in our station : no less
ancient than these walls, wherein we sit : yea, more : before ever there were
parliaments, in the magna concilia of the kingdom we had our places. And
as for my own predecessors, ever since the Conqueror's time I can shew your
lordships a just catalogue of them, that have sat before me here : and, truly,
though I have just cause to be mean in mine own eyes, yet why, or wherein,
there should be more unworthiness in me than the rest, that I should be
stripped of that privilege which they so long enjoyed, though there were no
law to hold me here, I cannot see or confess.

" What respects of honour have been put upon the prime clergy of old,
both by Pagans, and Jews, and Christians, and what are still both within
Christendom and without, I shall not need to urge : it is enough to say, this
of ours is not merely arbitrary; but stands so firmly established by law and
custom, that I hope it neither will nor can be removed, except you will shake
those foundations, which 1 believe you desire to hold firm and inviolable.

-hortly, then, my lords, the church craves no new honour from you:
and justly hopes you will not be guilty of pulling down the old. As you are
the eldest sons, and next under his majesty, the honourable patrons of the

BISHOP HALL. 307

fervency by some zealous lords in the house of peers ; every of
those particular canons being pressed to the most envious and
dangerous height that was possible : the archbishop of York 6,
aggravating Mr. Maynard's criminations to the utmost, not with-
out some interspersions of his own. The counsel of the accused
bishops gave in such a demurring answer as stopped the mouth
of that heinous indictment.

When this prevailed not, it was contrived to draw petitions
accusatory from many parts of the kingdom against episcopal

church ; so she expects and beseeches you to receive her into your tenderest
care ; so to order her affairs, that you leave her to posterity in no worse case
than you found her.

" It is a true word of Damasus, Ubi mlescit nomen episcopi, omnis status
perturbatur ecclesies. If this be suffered, the misery will be the church's : the
dishonour and blur of the act in future ages will be yours.

" To shut up, therefore, let us be taken off from all ordinary trade of
secular employments : and, if you please, abridge us of intermeddling with
matters of common justice : but leave us possessed of those places and pri-
vileges in parliament, which our predecessors have so long and peaceably
enjoyed."

On the 14th of May the bill was read a second time in the lords, and the
bishops were zealously defended by Robert Pierrepont, viscount Newark (and
earl of Kingston), whose speech is given by Fuller. On the 24th the bill
was in committee, when the bishop of Lincoln (John Williams) spoke at
great length against it, lord Say and Sele in its favour, and lord Newark
again spoke on behalf of the bishops. On the 27th the lords desired a con-
ference with the commons, and on the same day sir Edward Dering brought
into the commons a bill for the utter abolishing of bishops, deans, pre-
bendaries, &c. &c., and the second reading was carried at once by 139 to 108.
On the 3rd and 4th of June further conferences took place between the two
houses, and on the 3rd of July an impeachment was ordered. Accordingly,
on the 3rd of August, sergeant Wylde, M.P. for Worcestershire, presented
articles of impeachment against the following bishops :

Walter Curie, Winchester. Matthew Wren, Ely.

Robert Wright, Coventry and Lick- William Roberts, Bangor.
field. Robert Skinner, Bristol.

Godfrey Goodman, Gloucester. John Warner, Rochester.

JOSEPH HALL, Exeter. John Towers, Peterborough.

John Owen, St. Asaph. Morgan Owen, Llandaff.

William Pierce, Bath and Wells. William Laud, Canterbury.

George Coke, Hereford.

On the 26th of October another conference took place, and on the 10th of
November the impeached bishops put in their plea.

6 Archbishop of York.~\ Meaning John Williams, who, however, at this
time, was only bishop of Lincoln : he was not translated to York till the 4th
of December following.

x 2

308 BISHOP HALL.

government, and the promoters of the petitions were entertained
with great respects ; whereas the many petitions of the opposite
part, though subscribed with many thousand hands, were slighted
and disregarded. Withal, the rabble of London, after their peti-
tions cunningly and upon other pretences procured, were stirred
up to come to the houses personally to crave justice both against
the earl of Strafford first, and then against the archbishop of
Canterbury, and lastly against the whole order of bishops ; which
coming at first unarmed were checked by some well-willers, and
easily persuaded to gird on their rusty swords, and so accoutered
came by thousands 7 to the houses, filling all the outer rooms,
offering foul abuses to the bishops as they passed, crying out, no
bishops, no bishops; and at last, after divers days assembling,
grown to that height of fury, that many of them, whereof sir
Richard Wiseman professed (though to his cost 8) to be captain,
came with resolution of some violent courses, insomuch that many
swords were drawn hereupon at Westminster, and the rout did
not stick openly to profess that they would pull the bishops in
pieces. Messages were sent down to them from the lords. They
still held firm both to the place and their bloody resolutions. It now
grew to be torch-light. One of the lords, the marquis of Hertford 9,
came up to the bishops1 form, told us that we were in great danger,
advised us to take some course for our own safety, and being desired
to tell us what he thought was the best way, counselled us to con-
tinue in the parliament house all that night ; " for " (saith he)
" these people vow they will watch you at your going out and will
search every coach for you with torches, so as you cannot escape."
Hereupon the house of lords was moved for some order for the

7 Came by thousands.'] Compare Ic6n Basilike, chap. iv. Upon the Insolency
of the Tumults.

8 To his co*/.] It was on the 28th December, 1641, that this disturbance
took place. An attempt was made to force the abbey, where the regalia, an
object of plunder, were kept. The servants of the archbishop of York, who
was still for the time dean of Westminster, drew their swords, and defended
the church and its contents. Some mounted the roof, and threw down mis-
siles on the assailants ; the following statement by Baxter is very remark-
able : — " Sir Richard Wiseman leading them [the apprentices and other
rabble assailants] there was some fray about Westminster Abbey between the
cavaliers and them, and sir Richard Wiseman was slain by a stone from off the
abbey walls." — Baxter's Life and Times, p. 27.

9 Marquis of Hertford.] William Seymour, created marquis of Hertford in
1640 (afterwards, in 1CCO, restored as duke of Somerset); who, when young,
had married lady Arabella Stuart; see p. 15, ante.

BISHOP HALL. 309

preventing their mutinous and riotous meetings. Messages were
sent down to the house of commons to this purpose more than
once. Nothing was effected : but for the present (for so much
as all the danger was at the rising of the house) it was earnestly
desired of the lords that some care might be taken of our safety.
The motion was received by some lords with a smile. Some other
lords, as the earl of Manchester *, undertook the protection of the
archbishop of York and his company (whose shelter I went under)
to their lodgings ; the rest, some of them by their long stay,
others by secret and far-fetched passages escaped home.

It was not for us to venture any more to the house without
some better assurance. Upon our resolved forbearance, there-
fore, the archbishop of York sent for us to his lodging at West-
minster ; lays before us the perilous condition we were in : ad-
vises for remedy (except we meant utterly to abandon our right,
and to desert our station in parliament) to petition both his
majesty and the parliament, that since we were legally called by
his majesty's writ to give our attendance in parliament, we might
be secured in the performance of our duty and service against
those dangers that threatened us ; and withal to protest against 3
any such acts as should be made during the time of our forced
absence ; for which he assured us there were many precedents in

1 Earl of Manchester.'] Henry Montagu, first earl of Manchester, Lord
Privy Seal. He died November 7, 1642. His son was the well-known par-
liamentarian general,

2 To protest against.'] The protest was presented on the 30th of December,
1641. It was signed by

John Williams, Archbishop of William Pierce, Bath and Wells.

York. John Coke, Hereford.

Thomas Morton, Durham. Matthew Wren, Ely.

Joseph Hall, Norwich. Robert Skinner, Oxford.

Robert Wright, Coventry and Lich- George Goodwin, Gloucester,
field. John Warner, Peterborough.

John Owen, St. Asaph. Morgan Owen, Llandaff.

At this time five sees were vacant, viz. —

Worcester, by the death of John Thornborough.
Lincoln, by the translation of Williams to York.
Exeter, „ „ Hall to Norwich.

Bristol, „ „ Skinner to Oxford.

Chichester, „ „ Duppa to Sarum.

And on the day of the protest a motion was made that they should not be
filled up.

310 BISHOP HALL.

former parliaments, and which if we did not, we should betray the
trust committed to us by his majesty, and shamefully betray and
abdicate the due right 3 both of ourselves and successors. To this
purpose in our presence he drew up the said petition and protes-
tation, avowing it to be legal, just and agreeable to all former
proceedings ; and being fair written sent it to our several lodgings
for our hands ; which we accordingly subscribed, intending yet to
have had some further consultation concerning the delivering and
whole carriage of it. But ere we could suppose it to be in any
hand but his own, the first news we heard was, that there were
messengers addressed to fetch us into the parliament upon an
accusation of high treason. For whereas this paper was to have
been delivered, first to his majesty's secretary, and after perusal

3 The due right.'] " This is on the hypothesis, that there are three estates,
lords spiritual and temporal, and commons. Two of them sit in one
house, and (together] compose one body; the third sit in one house, and
compose another body. The lords spiritual are excluded : they remonstrate,
and say a force being put upon a part of the body, the acts of the other part
are void. This is good reasoning, on the hypothesis : but the hypothesis is
false. The bishops do not make a third estate, but are part of the general
baronage which composes the house of lords." — Warburton's Remarks on
Neal's Hist, of the Puritans; Works, vol. xii. p. 393, 4.

This, no doubt, is correct, according to the views and language of one
class of constitutional writers : but the authorities are quite as numerous,
and perhaps (to say the least) quite of as much value, which speak of the
king as the head, and of three other distinct estates in parliament, (viz. lords
spiritual, lords temporal, and commons), as constituting the body of the
realm.

Thus Lord Coke, Institutes, vol. iv. cap. 1. "The court of parliament con-
sisteth of the king's majesty, sitting there as in his royal politic capacity, and
of the three estates of the realm : one of which," he adds, " represents all the
commons of the whole realm." Secondly, we may take the title of the form
of prayer in the liturgy, " to be used yearly upon the fifth day of November ;
for the happy deliverance of King James I and the three estates of England."
Thirdly, the conjoint authority in one, of the lord keeper Pickering, and the
lord treasurer Burghley (A.D. 1 593). " Therefore," says the latter, addressing
the house of peers, " as was delivered by the lord keeper, her majesty hath
summarily imparted the same to this assembly, referring the consideration
thereof to the whole three estates, whereof two are in this place." — Cobbett'a
Parl. Hist., vol. i. p. 806. These may suffice as a specimen. It would be
easy to cite a great many more. I will not however omit to mention that the
whole question has been admirably discussed on all its grounds of authority
and reason by bishop Stillingfleet, in his Ecclesiastical Cases, vol. ii. pp. 373
—410.

BISHOP HALL. 311

by him to his majesty, and after from his majesty to the parlia-
ment, and for that purpose to the lord keeper, the lord Littleton *,
who was the speaker of the house of peers ; all these professed
not to have perused it at all, but the said lord keeper, willing enough
to take this advantage of ingratiating himself with the house of
commons and the faction, to which he knew himself sufficiently
obnoxious, finding what use might be made of it by prejudicate
minds, reads the same openly in the house of the lords : and when
he found some of the faction apprehensive enough of misconstruc-
tion, aggravates the matter as highly offensive, and of dangerous
consequence ; and thereupon not without much heat and vehe-
mence, and with an ill preface, it is sent down to the house of
commons ; where it was entertained hainously, Glynne with a full
mouth crying it up for no less than an high treason ; and some
comparing, yea preferring it to the powder plot.

We poor souls (who little thought that we had done any thing
that might deserve a chiding) are now called to our knees at the
bar and charged severally with high treason, being not a little
astonished at the suddenness of this crimination, compared with
the perfect innocence of our own intentions, which were only to
bring us to our due places in parliament with safety and speed
without the least purpose of any man's offence. But now traitors
we are in all the haste, and must be dealt with accordingly. For
on January 5 30, in all the extremity of frost, at eight o'clock in
the dark evening, are we voted to the Tower ; only two of our
number 6 had the favour of the Black Rod by reason of their age ;
which though desired by a noble lord on my behalf, would not be
yielded, wherein I acknowledge, and bless the gracious providence
of God ; for had I been gratified, I had been undone both in
body and purse ; the rooms being strait, and the expence beyond
the reach of my estate. The news of this our crime and impri-

4 Lord Littleton.'] Sir Edward Lyttleton, descended from Thomas Lyttleton,
the youngest son of Sir Thomas Lyttleton, the celebrated judge, and author of
the "Tenures." He was created Lord Lyttleton of Mounslow, February 18,
1640. His title became extinct at his death in 1645. The present lord
Lyttleton (or Lyttelton) is descended from sir William Lyttleton, the eldest
son of the judge.

5 January ] An error, probably of a transcriber, for December : it will have
been seen that the committal took place on December 30, and that bishop
Hall's letter from the Tower is dated January 24.

6 Two of our number.'] Morton, of Durham, and Wright, of Coventry and
Lichfield.

312 BISHOP HALL.

sonment soon flew over the city, and was entertained by our well-
willers with ringing of bells and bonfires ; who now gave us up
(not without great triumph) for lost men, railing on our perfi-
diousness, and adjudging us to what foul deaths they pleased.
And what scurrile and malicious pamphlets were scattered abroad
throughout the kingdom, and in foreign parts, blazoning our in-
famy and exaggerating our treasonable practices ! what insulta-
tions of our adversaries was here !

[A LETTER7 SENT FROM THE TOWER TO A PRIVATE FRIEND;
AND BY HIM THOUGHT FIT TO BE PUBLISHED.

" To my much respected good friend, Mr. H. S.

" Worthy Sir,

" You think it strange, that I should salute you from hence ;
how can you choose, when I do yet still wonder to see myself
here ? My intentions, and this place are such strangers that I
cannot enough marvel how they met. But, howsoever, I do in
all humility kiss the rod wherewith I smart, as well knowing
whose hand it is that wields it. To that infinite justice who can
be innocent? but to my king and country never heart was or
can be more clear ; and I shall beshrew my hand if it shall have
(against my thoughts) justly offended either ; and if either say
so, I reply not ; as having learned not to contest with those that
can command legions.

u In the mean time it is a kind, but cold compliment, that
you pity me ; an affection well placed where a man deserves to
be miserable ; for me I am not conscious of such merit. You
tell me in what fair terms I stood not long since with the world ;
how large room I had in the hearts of the best men : but can
you tell me how I lost it ? Truly I have in the presence of God
narrowly searched my own bosom ; I have unpartially ransacked
this fag-end of my life, and curiously examined every step of my
ways, and I cannot by the most exact scrutiny of my saddest
thoughts, find what it is that I have done to forfeit that good
estimation wherewith you say I was once blessed.

" I can secretly arraign and condemn myself of infinite trans-

1 A letter.'] This letter is now inserted according to its date. In
Mr. Pratt's edition of Bishop Hall it is prefixed to the Hard Measure.

BISHOP HALL. 313

gressions before the tribunal of heaven. Who that dwells in a
house of clay can be pure in his sight, who charged his angels
with folly ? 0 ! God, when I look upon the reckonings betwixt
thee and my soul, and find my shameful arrears, I can be most
vile in my own sight, because I have deserved to be so in thine ;
yet even then, in thy most pure eyes, give me leave the whiles,
not to abdicate my sincerity. Thou knowest my heart desires to
be right with thee, whatever my failings may have been ; and I
know what value thou puttest upon those sincere desires, not-
withstanding all the intermixtures of our miserable infirmities.
These I can penitently bewail to thee ; but in the mean time,
what have I done to men ? Let them not spare to shame me
with the late sinful declinations of my age ; and fetch blushes
(if they can) from a wrinkled face.

" Let mine enemies (for such I perceive I have, and those are
the surest monitors) say what I have offended. For their better
irritation, my conscience bids me boldly to take up the challenge
of good Samuel, ' Behold here I am, witness against me before the
Lord, and before his anointed : Whose oxe have I taken ? or whose
ass have I taken ? or whom have I defrauded ? whom have I
oppressed? or of whose hand have I received any bribe to blind
mine eyes therewith ? and I will restore it to you.''

" Can they say, that I bore up the reins of government too
hard, and exercised my jurisdiction in a rigorous and tyrannical
way, insolently lording it over my charge ? — Malice itself, perhaps,
would, but dare not speak it ; or if it should, the attestation of
so numerous and grave a clergy would choak such impudence.
Let them witness, whether they were not still entertained, with an
equal return of reverence, as if they had been all bishops with
me, or I only a presbyter with them ; according to the old rule
of Egbert archbishop of York, Infra domum, episcopus collegam
se presbyterorum esse cognoscat. Let them say whether aught here
looked like despotical ; or sounded rather of imperious command,
than of brotherly complying ; whether I have not rather from
some beholders undergone the censure of a too humble remissness,
as, perhaps, stooping too low beneath the eminence of episcopal
dignity ; whether I have not suffered as much in some opinions,
for the winning mildness of my administration, as some others for
a rough severity ?

" Can they say (for this aspersion is likewise common) that I
barred the free course of religious exercises, by the suppression of

314 BISHOP HALL.

painful and peaceable preachers ? — If shame will suffer any man
to object it, let me challenge him to instance but in one name.
Nay the contrary is so famously known in the western parts, that
every mouth will herein justify me. What free admission and
encouragement, have I always given to all the sons of peace, that
came with God's message in their mouths? What mis-sug-
gestions have I waved ! What blows have I borne off in the
behalf of some of them, from some gain-sayers ? How have I
often and publicly professed, that as well might we complain of
too many stars in the sky, as too many orthodox preachers in the
church ?

" Can they complain, that I fretted the necks of my clergy,
with the uneasy yoke of new and illegal impositions ? — Let them
whom I have thus hurt blazon my unjust severity, and write their
wrongs in marble ; but if, disliking all novel devices, I have held
close to those ancient rules which limited the audience of our
godly predecessors ; if I have grated upon no man's conscience
by the pressure (no not by the tender) of the late oath 8, or any
unprescribed ceremony ; if I have freely in the committee, ap-
pointed by the honourable house of peers, declared my open
dislike in all innovations, both in doctrine and rites ; — why doth
my innocence suffer ?

" Can they challenge me as a close and backstair friend to
Popery or Arminianism, who have in so many pulpits, and so
many presses, cried down both. — Surely the very paper that I
have spent in the refutation of both these, is enough to stop more
mouths than can be guilty of this calumny.

u Can they check me with a lazy silence in my place, with in-
frequence of preaching ? — Let all the populous auditories where I
have lived witness, whether having furnished all the churches near
me with able preachers, I took not all opportunities of supplying
such courses as I could get in my cathedral, and when my tongue
was silent, let the world say whether my hand were idle.

" Lastly, since no man can offer to upbraid me with too much
pomp, which is wont to be the common eye-sore of our envinl
profession ; can any man pretend to a ground of taxing me (as I
perceive one of late hath most unjustly done) of too much world-
lint .>3 ?

" Surely of all the vices forbidden in the decalogue, there is no
8 The tale oathJ] The etcetera oath. See note above, p. 302.

BISHOP HALL. 315

one which my heart upon due examination can less fasten upon
me than this. He that made it, knows, that he hath put into it
a true disregard (save only for necessary use) of the world, and all
that it can boast of, whether for profit, pleasure, or glory. No,
no ; I know the world too well to doat upon it. Whilst I am in
it, how can I but use it ? but I never care, never yield to enjoy it.
It were too great a shame for a philosopher, a Christian, a divine,
a bishop, to have his thoughts groveling here upon earth ; for
mine, they scorn the employment, and look upon all these sublu-
nary distractions (as upon this man's false censure) with no other
eyes than contempt.

" And now, sir, since I cannot (how secretly faulty soever)
guess at my own public exorbitances, I beseech you, where you
hear my name traduced, learn of my accusers (whose lyncean eyes
would seem to see farther into me than my own) what singular
offence I have committed.

" If, perhaps, my calling be my crime ; it is no other than the
most holy fathers of the church in the primitive and succeeding
ages, ever since the apostles, (many of them also blessed martyrs)
have been guilty of: it is no other than all the holy doctors of the
church in all generations ever since have celebrated, as most
reverend, sacred, inviolable : it is no other than all the whole
Christian world, excepting one small handful of our neighbours
(whose condition denied them 9 the opportunity of this govern-
ment) is known to enjoy without contradiction. — How safe is it
erring in such company !

" If my offence be in my pen, which hath (as it could) under-
taken the defence l of that apostolical institution (though with all
modesty and fair respects to the churches differing from us) I
cannot deprecate a truth : and such I know this to be : which is
since so cleared by better hands 2, that I well hope the better
informed world cannot but sit down convinced ; neither doubt I
but that as metals receive the more lustre with often rubbing, this
truth, the more agitation it undergoes, shall appear every day
more glorious. Only, may the good Spirit of the Almighty speedily

9 Condition denied them.'] See Hooker's Preface, chap. ii. § 4, or Christian
Institutes, vol. iv. p. 369.

1 Undertaken the defence.] viz. in his Episcopacy by divine right, asserted ;
the Humble Remonstrance ; Defence of the Humble Remonstrance ; Answer to
Smectymnus, &c. Works, vol. ix. 8vo.

2 By better hands] Dr. Hammond, archbishop Ussher, &c.

316 BISHOP HALL.

dispel all those dusky prejudices from the minds of men, which
may hinder them from discerning so clear a light !

" Shortly then, knowing nothing by myself, whereby I have
deserved to alienate any good heart from me, I shall resolve to
rest securely upon the acquitting testimony of a good conscience,
and the secret approbation of my gracious God ; who shall one day
cause mine innocence to break forth as the morning light, and shall
give me beauty for bonds ; and for a light and momentaiy afflic-
tion, an eternal weight of glory. — To shut up all, and to surcease
your trouble ; I write not this, as one that would pump for favour
and reputation from the disaffected multitude (for I charge you,
that what passes privately betwixt us, may not fall under common
eyes) but only with this desire and intention, to give you true
grounds, where you shall hear my name mentioned with a cause-
less offence, to yield me a just and charitable vindication. Go
you on still to do the office of a true friend, yea, the duty of a
just man ; in speaking in the cause of the dumb, in righting the
innocent, in rectifying the misguided ; and lastly, the service of a
faithful and Christian patriot, in helping the times with the best
of your prayers ; which is the daily task of your much devoted
and thankful friend,

" Jos. NORVIC."

From the Tower,
Jan. 24, 1641'.]

Being caged * sure enough in the Tower, the faction had now
fair opportunities to work their own designs. They therefore
taking the advantage of our restraint, renew the bill of theirs,
(which had been twice before rejected since the beginning of
this session) for taking away the votes of bishops 5 in parliament,

» 1641.] That is, 1641-2.

4 Being caged.'] On January 17, 1641-2, the twelve bishops had sent in
their answer to the charges against them.

6 The votes of bishops.'] " How oft was the business of the bishops' enjoying
their ancient places and undoubted privileges in the house of peers carried
for them by far the major part of the lords ! Yet, after five repulses, con-
trary to all order and custom, it was by tumultuary instigations obtruded
again, and by a few carried when most of the peers were forced to absent
themselves."— Icdn Basilike, chap. ix. Upon the listing and raising armies
against the king.

BISHOP HALL. 317

and in a very thin house easily passed it : which once conde-
scended unto, Iknownot by what strong importunity 6, his majesty's
assent 7 was drawn from him thereunto. We now, instead of
looking after our wonted honour must bend our thoughts upon
the guarding of our lives, which were with no small eagerness,
pursued by the violent agents of the faction. Their sharpest wits
and greatest lawyers were employed to advance our impeachment
to the height ; but the more they looked into the business, the
less crime could they find to fasten upon us : insomuch as one of
their oracles, being demanded his judgment concerning the fact,
professed to them, they might with as good reason accuse us of
adultery. Yet still there are we fast, only upon petition to the
lords obtaining this favour, that we might have counsel assigned
us ; which after much reluctation, many menaces from the com-
mons, against any man of all the commoners of England that
should dare to be seen to plead in this case against the represen-
tative body of the commons, was granted us. The lords assigned
us five very worthy lawyers, which were nominated to them by us.
What trouble and charge it was to procure those eminent and
much employed counsellors to come to the Tower to us, and to
observe the strict laws of the place, for the time of their ingress,
regress, and stay, it is not hard to judge. After we had lien
some weeks there, however, the house of commons, upon the first
tender of our impeachment had desired we might be brought to
a speedy trial, yet now finding belike how little ground they had
for so high an accusation, they began to slack their pace, and
suffered us rather to languish under the fear of so dreadful
arraignment. In so much as now we are fain to petition the
lords that we might be brought to our trial. The day was set ;
several summons were sent unto us : the lieutenant had his war-
rant to bring us to the bar; our impeachment was severally
read ; we pleaded not guilty, modo et forma, and desired speedy
proceedings, which were accordingly promised, but not too hastily
performed. After long expectation, another day was appointed
for the prosecution of this high charge. The lieutenant brought
us again to the bar ; but with what shoutings and exclamations

6 Strong importunity^] This proceeded from the ill-advised judgment of
some of the king's most confidential friends, and from the queen. — See
Clarendon's History of the Rebellion, b. iv.

7 Assent.'] The king gave his assent to the bill on February 14, 1641-2.

318 BISHOP HALL.

and furious expressions of the enraged multitudes, it is not easy
to apprehend. Being thither brought and severally charged
upon our knees, and having given our negative answers to every
particular, two bishops, London and Winchester8, were called in
as witnesses against us, as in that point, whether they appre-
hended any such case of fears in the tumults assembled, as that we
were in any danger of our lives in coming to the parliament ;
who seemed to incline to a favourable report of the perils threat-
ened, though one of them was convinced out of his own mouth,
from the relations himself had made at the archbishop of York's
lodging. After this Wild and Glyn made fearful declamations at
the bar against us, aggravating all the circumstances of our pre-
tended treason to the highest pitch. Our counsel were all ready
at the bar to plead for us in answer of their clamorous and
envious suggestions ; but it was answered, that it was now too
late, we should have another day, which day to this day never
came 9.

The circumstances of that day's hearing were more grievous to
us than the substance ; for we were all thronged so miserably in
that strait room before the bar, by reason that the whole house
of commons would be there to see the prizes of their champions
played, that we stood the whole afternoon in no small torture ;
sweating and struggling with a merciless multitude, till being
dismissed we were exposed to a new and greater danger. For
now in the dark we must to the Tower, by barge as we came,
and must shoot the bridge l with no small peril. That God,
under whose merciful protection we are, returned us to our
safe custody.

There now we lay some weeks longer, expecting the summons
for our counsel's answer ; but instead thereof our merciful adver-
saries, well finding how sure they would be foiled in that unjust
charge of treason, now under pretences of remitting the height of
rigour, waive their former impeachment of treason against us, and
fall upon an accusation of high misdemeanors in that our protes-

8 London and Winchester.] William Juxon, and Walter Curll.

9 Never came.'] The time began on February 19, 1641-2. See "Pro-
ceedings against the twelve bishops upon an accusation of high treason,"
vol. iv. State Trials, p. 63—82.

1 Shoot the bridgeJ] i. e., pass under London-bridge, with the ebbing tide,
when the fall of water was great. See Life of Wolsey, in vol. i. p. 492.

BISHOP HALL. 319

tation, and will have us prosecuted as guilty of a premunire :
although as we conceive the law hath ever been in the parliamen-
tary proceedings, that if a man were impeached, as of treason
being the highest crime, the accusant must hold him to the proof
of the charge, and may not fall to any meaner impeachment upon
failing of the higher. But in this case of ours it fell out other-
wise; for although the lords had openly promised us, that
nothing should be done against us, till we and our counsel
were heard in our defence, yet the next news we heard was, the
house of commons had drawn up a bill against us, wherein they
declared us to be delinquents of a very high nature, and had
thereupon desired to have it enacted that all our spiritual means
should be taken away : only there should be a yearly allowance
to every bishop for his maintenance, according to a proportion
by them set down ; wherein they were pleased that my share
should come to 400£. per annum. This bill was sent up to
the lords and by them also passed, and there hath ever since
lain.

This being done, after some weeks more, finding the Tower
besides the restraint, chargeable, we petitioned the lords that
we might be admitted to bail ; and have liberty to return to
our homes. The earl of Essex moved, the lords assented, took
our bail, sent to the lieutenant of the Tower for our discharge.
How glad were we to fly out of our cage ! No sooner was I got
to my lodging, than I thought to take a little fresh air, in St.
James's park ; and in my return to my lodging in the Dean's
yard, passing through Westminster-hall, was saluted by divers
of my parliament acquaintance, and welcomed to my liberty.
Whereupon some that looked upon me with an evil eye ran into
the house, and complained that the bishops were let loose ;
which it seems was not well taken by the house of commons,
who presently sent a kind of expostulation to the lords, that they
had dismissed so heinous offenders without their knowledge and
consent. Scarce had I rested me in my lodging when there
comes a messenger to me with the sad news of sending me and
the rest of my brethren the bishops back to the Tower again ;
from whence we came, thither we must go ; and thither I went
with an heavy (but I thank God not impatient) heart. After we
had continued there some six weeks longer, and earnestly peti-
tioned to return to our several charges, we were upon 5000£.
bond dismissed, with a clause of revocation at a short warning,

320 BISHOP HALL.

if occasion should require. Thus having spent the time betwixt
new-year's eve and Whitsuntide in those safe walls, where we
by turns preached every Lord's day to a large auditory of
citizens, we disposed of ourselves to the places of our several
abode.

For myself, addressing myself to Norwich, whither it was his
majesty's pleasure to remove me, I was at the first received with
more respect, than in such times I could have expected. There
I preached the day after my arrival to a numerous and attentive
people ; neither was sparing of my pains in this kind ever since,
till the times growing every day more impatient of a bishop,
threatened my silencing. There, though with some secret mur-
murs of disaffected persons, I enjoyed peace till the ordinance of
sequestration came forth, which was in the latter end of March
following. Then, when I was in hope of receiving the profits of
the foregoing half year, for the maintenance of my family, were
all my rents stopped and diverted, and in the April following came
the sequestrators, viz. Mr. Sotherton, Mr. Tooly, Mr. Rawley,
Mr. Greenewood, &c. to the palace, and told me that by virtue of
an ordinance of parliament they must seize upon the palace, and
all the estate I had, both real and personal ; and accordingly sent
certain men appointed by them (whereof one had been burned in
the hand for the mark of his truth,) to apprize all the goods
that were in the house, which they accordingly executed with all
diligent severity, not leaving so much as a dozen of trenchers, or
my children's pictures out of their curious inventory. Yea they
would have apprized our very wearing clothes, had not alderman
Tooly and sheriff Rawley (to whom I sent to require their judg-
ment concerning the ordinance in this point) declared their
opinion to the contrary.

These goods, both library and houshold stuff of all kinds, were
appointed to be exposed to public sale. Much inquiry there was
when the goods should be brought to the market ; but in the mean
time Mrs. Goodwin, a religious good gentlewoman, whom yet we
had never known or seen, being moved with compassion, very
kindly offered to lay down to the sequestrators that whole sum
which the goods were valued at ; and was pleased to leave thorn
in our hands for our use, till we might be able to repurchase
them ; which she did accordingly, and had the goods formally
delivered to her by Mr. Smith, and Mr. Greenewood, two seques-
trators. As for the books, several stationers looked on them,

BISHOP HALL. 321

but were not forward to buy them ; at last Mr. Cook, a worthy
divine of this diocese, gave bond to the sequestrators, to pay to
them the whole sum whereat they were set, which was afterwards
satisfied out of that poor pittance that was allowed me for my
maintenance. As for my evidences they required them from me.
I denied them, as not holding myself bound to deliver them.
They nailed, and sealed up the door, and took such as they found
with me.

But before this, the first noise that I heard of my trouble was,
that one morning, before my servants were up, there came to my
gates one Wright, a London trooper, attended with others,
requiring entrance, threatening if they were not admitted, to
break open the gates ; whom I found at my first sight struggling
with one of my servants for a pistol, which he had in his hand.
I demanded his business at that unseasonable time ; he told me,
he came to search for arms and ammunition, of which I must be
disarmed. I told him I had only two muskets in the house, and
no other military provision. He not resting upon my word
searched round about the house, looked into the chests and
trunks, examined the vessels in the cellar ; finding no other war-
like furniture, he asked me what horses I had, for his commission
was to take them also. I told him how poorly I was stored, and
that my age would not allow me to travel on foot. In conclusion
he took one horse for the present, and such account of another,
that he did highly expostulate with me afterwards, that I had
otherwise disposed of him.

Now not only my rents present, but the arrearages of the
former years, which I had in favour forborne to some tenants,
being treacherously confessed to the sequestrators, were by them
called for, and taken from me ; neither was there any course at
all taken for my maintenance. I therefore addressed myself to
the committee sitting here at Norwich, and desired them to give
order for some means, out of that large patrimony of the church,
to be allowed me. They all thought it very just, and there being
present sir Thomas Woodhouse 2, and sir John Potts3, parliament
men, it was moved and held fit by them and the rest, that the

2 Sir Thomas Woodhouse.] Of Kemberley, M.P. for Thetford. He was
the second baronet of the name. The present lord Wodehouse is his lineal
descendant.

8 Sir John Potts.'] Of Mannington, M.P. for Norfolk. He was the first
baronet of his family.

VOL. IV. Y

322 BISHOP HALL.

proportion which the votes of the parliament had pitched upon,
viz. 4:001. per annum, should be allowed to me. My lord of Man-
chester, who was then conceived to have great power in matter of
these sequestrations, was moved herewith. He apprehended it
very just and reasonable, and wrote to the committee here to set
out so many of the manors belonging to this bishopric as should
amount to the said sum of 400£. annually ; which was answerably
done under the hands of the whole table. And now I well hoped,
I should yet have a good competency of maintenance out of that
plentiful estate which I might have had : but those hopes were
no sooner conceived than dashed ; for before I could gather up
one quarterns rent, there comes down an order from the commit-
tee for sequestrations above, under the hand of serjeant Wild4 the
chairman, procured by Mr. Miles Corbet 5, to inhibit any such
allowance ; and telling our committee here, that neither they,
nor any other had power to allow me any thing at all : but if my
wife found herself to need a maintenance, upon her suit to the
committee of lords and commons, it might be granted that she
should have a fifth part according to the ordinance, allowed for
the sustentation of herself, and her family. Hereupon she sends
a petition up to that committee, which after a long delay was
admitted to be read, and an order granted for the fifth part. But
still the rents and revenues both of my spiritual and temporal
lands were taken up by the sequestrators both in Norfolk, and
Suffolk, and Essex, and we kept off from either allowance or
account. At last upon much pressing, Beadle the solicitor, and
Rust the collector, brought in an account to the committee, such
as it was ; but so confused and perplexed, and so utterly imper-
fect, that we could never come to know what a fifth part meant :
but they were content that I should eat my books by setting off
the sum engaged for them out of the fifth part. Mean time the
synodals both in Norfolk and Suffolk, and all the spiritual profits
of the diocese were also kept back, only ordinations and institu-
tions continued a while. But after the covenant 6 was appointed
to be taken, and was generally swallowed of both clergy and laity,
my power of ordination was with some strange violence restrained.
For when I was going on in my wonted course (which no law or

* Serjeant Wild.'] John Wild, or Wylde, M.P. for Worcestershire.
6 Miles Corbet.'] M.P. for Yarmouth.

c After the covenant.'] See lord Clarendon's Hist, nf the Rebellion, b. vii.
Fuller, Church History, book x. p. 201—7.

BTSHOP HALL. 323

ordinance had inhibited) certain forward volunteers in the city,
banding together, stir up the mayor and aldermen and sheriffs to
call me to an account for an open violation of their Covenant.
To this purpose divers of them came to my gates at a very unsea-
sonable time, and knocking very vehemently, required to speak
with the bishop ! Messages were sent to them to know their
business. Nothing would satisfy them but the bishop's presence ;
at last I came down to them, and demanded what the matter
was ; they would have the gate opened, and then they would tell
me ; I answered that I would know them better first : if they
had any thing to say to me I was ready to hear them. They
told me they had a writing to me from Mr. Mayor, and some
other of their magistrates. The paper contained both a challenge
of me for breaking the Covenant, in ordaining ministers ; and
withal required me to give in the names of those which were
ordained by me both then and formerly since the Covenant. My
answer was that Mr. Mayor was much abused by those who had
misinformed him, and drawn that paper from him ; that I would
the next day give a full answer to the writing. They moved that
my answer might be by my personal appearance at the Guildhall.
I asked them when they ever heard of a bishop of Norwich ap-
pearing before a mayor. I knew mine own place, and would take
that way of answer which I thought fit ; and so dismissed them,
who had given out that day, that had they known before of mine
ordaining, they would have pulled me and those whom I ordained
out of the chapel by the ears.

Whiles I received nothing, yet something was required of me.
They were not ashamed after they had taken away, and sold all
my goods and personal estate, to come to me for assessments,
and monthly payments for that estate which they had taken, and
took distresses from me upon my most just denial, and vehe-
mently required me to find the wonted arms of my predecessors,
when they had left me nothing. Many insolences and affronts
were in all this time put upon us. One while a whole rabble of
volunteers come to my gates late, when they were locked up, and
called for the porter to give them entrance, which being not
yielded, they threatened to make by force, and had not the said
gates been very strong they had done it. Others of them
clambered over the walls, and would come into mine house ;
their errand (they said) was to search for delinquents. What
they would have done I know not, had not we by a secret way

Y 2

324 BISHOP HALL.

sent to raise the officers for our rescue. Another while the sheriff
Toftes, and alderman Linsey, attended with many zealous fol-
lowers, came into my chapel to look for superstitious pictures,
and relics of idolatry, and sent for me, to let me know they found
those windows full of images, which were very offensive, and must
be demolished ! I told them they were the pictures of some
antient and worthy bishops, as St. Ambrose, Austin, &c. It
was answered me, that they were so many popes; and one
younger man amongst the rest (Townsend as I perceived after-
wards) would take upon him to defend that every diocesan bishop
was pope. I answered him with some scorn, and obtained leave
that I might with the least loss and defacing of the windows, give
order for taking off that offence, which I did by causing the
heads of those pictures to be taken off, since I knew the bodies
could not offend.

There was not that care and moderation used in reforming
the cathedral church bordering upon my palace. It is no other
than tragical to relate the carriage of that furious sacrilege,
whereof our eyes and ears were the sad witnesses, under the
authority and presence of Linsey, Toftes the sheriff, and Greene-
wood. Lord, what work was here, what clattering of glasses,
what beating down of walls, what tearing up of monuments, what
pulling down of seats, what wresting out of irons and brass from
the windows and graves ! what defacing of arms, what demo-
lishing of curious stone- work, that had not any representation in
the world, but only of the cost of the founder, and skill of the
mason ; what tooting and piping upon the destroyed organ pipes,
and what a hideous triumph on the market day before all the
country, when in a kind of sacrilegious and profane procession,
all the organ pipes, vestments, both copes and surplices, together
with the leaden cross 7, which had been newly sawn down from

7 Leaden cross.'] In the church-warden's accounts of the parish of Lam-
beth, fol. 288, A.D. 1642, is the following entry :

" Paid for taking downe the crosse off the steeple ...016"
And in fol. 293, is a further payment of 2*. In a subsequent year we find
how the cross was disposed of; fol. 296, A.D. 1644 :

" Rec. for the crosse that was upon the steeple, and other

ouldeiron 136"

The following extracts are also given from the same book, as further illus-
trative of the proceedings of those times : fol. 293, A.D. 1643 :
" Paide to John Pickerskill for taking downe the railes that

were about the communion table 010"

[Fol.

BISHOP HALL. 325

over the green-yard pulpit, and the service books and singing
books that could be had, were carried to the fire in the public
market place : a lewd wretch walking before the train, in his
cope trailing in the dirt, with a service book in his hand, imitating
in an impious scorn the tune, and usurping the words of the
litany used formerly in the church ! Near the public cross, all
these monuments of idolatry must be sacrificed to the fire, not
without much ostentation of a zealous joy in discharging ordnance
to the cost of some who professed how much they had longed to
see that day. Neither was it any news upon this guild-day to have
the cathedral now open on all sides to be filled with musketeers,
waiting for the mayor's return, drinking and tobacconing as freely
as if it had turned alehouse.

Still yet I remained in my palace though with but a poor
retinue and means ; but the house was held too good for me :
many messages were sent by Mr. Corbet to remove me thence.
The first pretence was, that the committee, who now was at
charge for an house to sit in, might make their daily session there,
being a place both more public, roomy, and chargeless. The
committee after many consultations resolved it convenient to
remove thither, though many overtures and offers were made to
the contrary. Mr. Corbet was impatient of my stay there, and
procures and sends peremptory messages for my present dis-
lodging. We desired to have some time allowed for providing
some other mansion, if we must needs be cast out of this, which
my wife was so willing to hold, that she offered, (if the charge of
the present committee house were the things stood upon) she
would be content to defray the sum of the rent of that house
of her fifth part ; but that might not be yielded : out we must,
and that in three weeks warning, by midsummer-day then
approaching, so as we might have lain in the street for ought I
know, had not the providence of God so ordered it that a
neighbour in the close, one Mr. Gostlin, a widower, was content
to void his house for us.

Fol. 296, A.D. 1644:

"Paid to the carpenters for worke in taking downe the

skreenes betweene the church and the chancel .... 0 13 0
" Paid to Ed. Marshall for two dayes worke in levelling the

chancell 040

Fol. 300, A.D. 1645:
" Paid for a basen to baptize in, and for the frame ... 0 5 0

326 BISHOP HALL.

This hath been my measure ; wherefore, I know not ; Lord, thou
knowest, who only canst remedy, and end, and forgive or avenge
this horribU oppression.

Jos. NORVIC.

Scripsi, May 29, 1647.

SHORTLY after 8, this excellent bishop retired to a little estate,
which he rented at Higham near Norwich ; where, notwith-
standing the narrowness of his circumstances, he distributed a
weekly charity to a certain number of poor widows. In this
retirement he ended his life, September 8, 1656, aged 82 years;
and was buried in the church-yard of that parish, without any
memorial ; observing in his will, " I do not hold God's house a
meet repository for the dead bodies of the greatest saints."

He is universally allowed to have been a man of incomparable
piety, meekness, and modesty, having a thorough knowledge of
the world, and of great wit and learning.

A writer" observes of him that " he may be said to have died
with the pen in his hand. He was commonly called our English
Seneca, for his pure, plain and full stile. Not ill at contro-
versies, more happy at comments, very good in his characters,
better in his sermons, best of all in his meditations"

8 Shortly after.~\ This conclusion is transcribed from the notes to an
edition of this life, &c. prefixed to an edition of bishop Hall's Contemplations,
published AD. 1759, by the Rev. Wra. Dodd.

c England's Worthies, p. 441.

DR. HENRY HAMMOND.

In these things we also have been but too like the sons of Israel ; for when
we sinned as greatly, we also have groaned under as great and sad a calamity.
For we have not only felt the evils of an intestine war, but God hath smitten
us in our spirit, and laid the scene of his judgments especially in religion. —
But I delight not to observe the correspondencies of such sad accidents :
they do but help to vex the offending part, and relieve the afflicted but with
a fantastic and groundless comfort. I will therefore deny leave to my own
affections to ease themselves by complaining of others. I shall only crave
leave, that I may remember Jerusalem, and call to mind the pleasures of the
temple, the order of her services, the beauty of her buildings, the sweetness
of her songs, the decency of her ministrations, the assiduity and oeconomy of
her priests and levites, the daily sacrifice, and that eternal fire of devotion,
that went not out by day nor by night. These were the pleasures of our
peace : and there is a remanent felicity in the very memory of those spiritual
delights, which we then enjoyed as antepasts of heaven, and consignations to
an immortality of joys. And it may be so again, when it shall please God, who
hath the hearts of all princes in his hand, and turneth them as the rivers of
waters ; and when men will consider the invaluable loss that is consequent,
and the danger of sin that is append ant to the destroying of such forms of
discipline and devotion, in which God was purely worshipped, and the church
was edified, and the people instructed to great degrees of piety, knowledge,
and devotion.

BISHOP TAYLOR.

ADVERTISEMENT.

THE following account of Dr. Henry Hammond is a republication
of The Life of the most learned, reverend and pious Dr. II. Ham-
mond, written by John Fell, D.D. Dean of Christ Church in
Oxford; the second edition; London, 1662; of which the first
edition came out in the year preceding.

DR. HENRY HAMMOND.

DOCTOR HENRY HAMMOND, whose life is now attempted to be
written, was born upon the eighteenth of August in the year
1 605, at Chertsey in Surrey, a place formerly of remark for Julius
Caesar's supposed passing his army there over the Thames, in his
enterprise upon this island; as also for the entertainment of
devotion in its earliest reception by our Saxon ancestors ; and of
later years, for the charity of having given burial to the equally
pious and unfortunate prince king Henry VI.

He was the youngest son of Dr. John Hammond physician to
prince Henry ; and from that great favourer of meriting servants
and their relations, had the honour at the font to receive his
Christian name.

Nor had he an hereditary interest in learning only from his
father ; by his mother's side he was allied both unto it and the
profession of theology, being descended1 from Dr. Alexander
Nowel, the reverend dean of St. Paul's, that great and happy
instrument of the reformation, and eminent light of the English
church.

Being yet in his long coats, (which heretofore were usually
worn beyond the years of infancy 2,) he was sent to Eton school ;
where his pregnancy, having been advantaged by the more than

1 Being descended.] But see Churton's Life of Nowell, pp. 362, 3.

2 The years of infancy. ~] " When about seven years old" (it is related of
Williams, afterward archbishop of York, the antagonist and rival of arch-
bishop Laud, that) " He took a leap, being then in long coats, from the walls
of Conway town to the sea shore, looking that the wind, which was then very
strong, would fill his coats like a sail, and bear him up, as it did with his

play fellows : but he found it otherwise ." Hacket's Life of Williams,

p. 8. This was about the year 1590.

332 DOCTOR HENRY HAMMOND.

paternal care and industry of his father (who was an exact critic
in the learned languages, especially the Greek), became the ob-
servation of those that knew him : for in that tenderness of age
he was not only a proficient in Greek and Latin, but had also
some knowledge in the elements of Hebrew: in the latter of
which tongues, it being then rarely heard of even out of grammar
schools, he grew the tutor of those who began to write themselves
men, but thought it no shame to learn of one whose knowledge
seemed rather infused than acquired ; or in whom the learned
languages might be thought to be the mother tongue. His skill
in the Greek was particularly advantaged by the conversation and
kindness of Mr. Allen, one of the fellows of the college, excel-
lently seen in that language, and a great assistance of sir Henry
Savile in his magnificent edition of St. Chrysostom.

His sweetness of carriage is very particularly remembered by
his contemporaries, who observed that he was never engaged
(upon any occasion) into fights or quarrels ; as also that at times
allowed for play, he would steal from his fellows* into places

3 Steal from his fellows] The place, and the engagements of this school-
boy remind us of the narrative given by the pious and amiable Dr. Henry
More of his own early years. " Being bred up, to the almost fourteenth
year of my age, under parents, and a master, that were great Calvinists, but
withal, very pious and good ones ; at that time, by the order of my parents,
persuaded to it by my uncle, I immediately went to Eton school ; not to
learn any new precepts or institutes of religion, but for the perfecting of the
Greek and Latin tongue. But neither there, not yet any where else, could I
ever swallow down that hard doctrine concerning Fate. On the contrary, I
remember that upon those words of Epictetus, "Aye /x? w Zfi), cat <rr >'/
7r£7rpa>/^»»7, Lead me, O Jupiter, and thou Fate, I did, with my eldest brother,
who then, as it happened, had accompanied my uncle thither, very stoutly
and earnestly for my years, dispute against this fate or Calvinistical predesti-
nation, as it is usually called : and that my uncle, when he came to know it,
chid me severely ; adding menaces withal of correction, and a rod for my
immature forwardness in philosophizing concerning such matters. Moreover,
that I had such a deep aversion in my temper to this opinion, and so firm and
unshaken a persuasion of the divine justice and goodness ; that, on a certain
day, in a ground belonging to Eton College, where the boys used to play and
exercise themselves, musing concerning these things with myself, and recalling
to my mind the doctrine of Calvin, I did thus seriously and deliberately con-
clude within myself, namely, If I am one of those that are predestinated unto
hell, where all things are full of nothing but cursing and blasphemy, yet will I
behave myself there patiently and submissively towards God : and if there be
any one thing more than another, that is acceptable to him, that will I set myself
to do, with a sincere heart, and to the utmost of my power. . . . which medita-

DOCTOR HENRY HAMMOND. 333

of privacy, there to say his prayers : omens of his future pacific
temper and eminent devotion.

Which softness of temper his schoolmaster Mr. Bush, who
upon his father's account had a tender kindness for him, looked
upon with some jealousy ; for he building upon the general obser-
vation, that gravity and passiveness in children is not from dis-
cretion but phlegm, suspected that his scholar's faculties would
desert his industry, and end only in a laborious well-read non-
proficiency : but the event gave full and speedy defeat to those
well-meant misgivings ; for he so improved, that at thirteen years
old he was thought, and (what is much more rare) was indeed
ripe for the university, and accordingly sent to Magdalen college
in Oxford, where not long after he was chosen demy; and though
he stood low upon the roll, by a very unusual concurrence of pro-
vidential events, happened to be sped : and though, having then
lost his father, he became destitute of the advantage which potent
recommendation might have given, yet his merit voting for him,
as soon as capable he was chosen fellow.

Being to proceed master of arts, he was made reader of the
natural philosophy lecture in the college, and also was employed
in making the funeral oration on the highly meriting president
Dr. Langton.

tion of mine is as firmly fixed in my memory, and the very place where I
stood, as if the thing had been transacted but a day or two ago.

" And as to what concerns the existence of God, though in that ground
mentioned, walking, as my manner was, slowly, and with my head on one side,
and kicking now and then the stones with my feet, I was wont sometimes,
with a sort of musical and melancholick manner, to repeat, or rather humm
to myself those verses of Claudian :

* Ssepe mihi dubiam traxit sententia mentem,
Curarent Superi terras ; an nullus inesset
Rector, et incerto fluerent mortalia casu :'

' Oft hath my anxious mind divided stood,

Whether the gods did mind this lower world ;
Or whether no such Ruler, wise and good,
We had ; and all things here by chance were hurled ;'

yet that exceeding hale and intire sense of God, which nature herself had
planted deeply in me, very easily silenced all such slight and poetical dubita-
tions as these. Yea, even in my just childhood, an inward sense of the
divine presence was so strong upon my mind, that I did then believe, there
could no deed, word or thought be hidden from him." — Life of the learned
and pious Dr. Henry More, by Richard Ward, A.M. London, 1710. 8vo, p. 5.

334 DOCTOR HENRY HAMMOND.

Having taken his degree, he presently bought a system of
divinity, with a design to apply himself straightway to that
study : but upon second thoughts he returned for a time to
human learning, and afterwards when he resumed his purpose
for theology, took a quite different course of reading from the
other too much usual *, beginning that science at the upper end,
as conceiving it most reasonable to search for primitive truth in
the primitive writers, and not to suffer his understanding to be
prepossest by the contrived and interested schemes of modern
and withal obnoxious authors.

Anno 1 629, being twenty-four years of age, the statutes of his
house directing, and the canons of the church then regularly per-
mitting it, he entered into holy orders : and upon the same
grounds not long after took the degree of bachelor in divinity,
giving as happy proof of his proficiency in sacred, as before he
had done in secular knowledge.

During the whole time of his abode in the university he gene-
rally spent thirteen hours of the day in study ; by which assiduity
besides an exact dispatch of the whole course of philosophy, ho

4 Too much usual.'] " To such an absolute authority were the names and
writings of some men advanced by their diligent followers, that not to yield
obedience to their ipse dixits, was a crime unpardonable.

" It is true king James observed the inconvenience, and prescribed a
remedy, sending Instructions to the Universities, bearing date Jan. 18, anno
1616, wherein it was directed amongst other things, that young students in
divinity should be excited to study such books as were most agreeable in doctrine
and discipline to the Church of England ; and to bestow their time in the
Fathers and Councils, Schoolmen, Histories, and Controversies; and not to
insist too long upon Compendiums and Abbreviators, making them the grounds
of their study. And I conceive that from that time forwards the names and
reputations of some leading men of the Foreign Churches, which till then
carried all before them, did begin to lessen; divines growing daily more
willing to free themselves from that servitude and vassalage, to which the
authority of those names had enslaved their judgments. — About those times
it was, that I began my studies in divinity; and thought no course so
proper and expedient for me, as the way commended by king James ....
For though I had a good respect both to the memory of Luther, and the name
of Calvin ; as those whose writings had awakened all these parts of Europe
out of the ignorance and superstition under which they suffered ; yet I
always took them to be men : men as obnoxious unto error, as subject unto
human frailty, and as indulgent too to their own opinions, as any others
whatsoever." Heylin's Sum of Christian Theology, in the address to the
reader. 1673. folio. Compare also above, Life of Bishop Hall, p. 297,
note.

DOCTOR HENRY HAMMOND. 335

read over in a manner all classic authors that are extant ; and
upon the more considerable wrote, as he passed, scholia and
critical emendations, and drew up indexes for his private use at
the beginning and end of each book : all which remain at this
time, and testify his indefatigable pains to as many as have
perused his library.

In the year 1633, the reverend Dr. Frewen 5, the then president
of his college, now lord arch-bishop of York, gave him the honour
to supply one of his courses at the court ; where the right
honourable the earl of Leicester 6 happened to be an auditor. He
was so deeply affected with the sermon, and took so just a mea-
sure of the merit of the preacher thence, that the rectory of
Penshurst 7 being at that time void, and in his gift, he imme-
diately offered him the presentation : which being accepted, he
was inducted on the 22 of A ugust in the same year ; and thence-
forth from the scholastic retirements of an university life, applied
himself to the more busy entertainments of a rural privacy, and
what some have called the being buried in a living : and being to
leave the house, he thought not fit to take that advantage of his
place, which from sacrilege, or selling of the founder's charity,
was by custom grown to be prudence and good husbandry.

In the discharge of his ministerial function, he satisfied not
himself in diligent and constant preaching only ; (a performance
wherein some of late have fancied all religion to consist) but
much more conceived himself obliged to the offering up the
solemn daily sacrifice of prayer for his people, administering
the sacraments, relieving the poor, keeping hospitality, recon-
ciling of differences amongst neighbours, visiting the sick, cate-
chizing the youth.

As to the first of these, his preaching \ it was not at the ordi-
nary rate of the times 8, an unpremeditated, undigested effusion

5 Frewen.~\ Accepted Frewen, dean of Gloucester, bishop of Lichfield and
Coventry, August 17, 1643 ; archbishop of York, September 22, 1660 ; died,
March 28, 1664.

0 Leicester.'] Robert Sydney, second earl of Leicester.

: Penshurst.'] In Kent : the well-known seat of the Sydneys.

8 Rate of the times.'] Of Hammond's friend the learned Dr. Edward
Pocock, the ornament and pride of his country, especially as an orien-
talist, we are told by his biographer, that as he avoided in his preaching
" The shews and ostentations of learning ; so he would not, by any means,
indulge himself in the practice of those arts, which at that time were very
common, and much admired by ordinary people. Such were distortions of

336 DOCTOR HENRY HAMMOND.

of shallow and crude conceptions; but a rational and just dis-
course, that was to teach the priest as well as the lay-hearer.
His method was (which likewise he recommended to his friends)
after every sermon to resolve upon the ensuing subject ; that
being done, to pursue the course of study which he was then in
hand with, reserving the close of the week for the provision for
the next LordVday. Whereby not only a constant progress was
made in science, but materials unawares were gained unto the
immediate future work : for, he said, be the subjects treated of
never so distant, somewhat will infallibly fall in conducible unto
the present purpose.

The offices of prayer he had in his church, not only upon the
Sundays and festivals and their eves, as also Wednesdays and
Fridays, according to the appointment of the rubric : (which
strict duty and administration when it is examined to the bottom
will prove the greatest objection against the liturgy; as that
which, besides its own trouble and austerity, leaves no leisure for
factious and licentious meetings at fairs and markets) but every
day 9 in the week, and twice on Saturdays, and holy-day eves :
for his assistance wherein he kept a curate, and allowed him a
comfortable salary. And at those devotions he took order that
his family should give diligent and exemplary attendance : which
was the easilier performed, it being guided by his mother a
woman of ancient virtue, and one to whom he paid a more than
filial obedience.

As to the administration of the Sacrament, he reduced it to an
imitation, though a distant one, of primitive frequency, to once a
month, and therewith its anciently inseparable appendant, the
offertory : wherein his instruction and happily-insinuating exain-

the countenance and strange gestures, a violent and unnatural way of speak-
ing, and affected words and phrases, which being out of the ordinary way,
were therefore supposed to express somewhat very mysterious, and in a high
degree spiritual . . .

" His care not to amuse his hearers, with things which they could not
understand, gave some of them occasion to entertain very contemptible
thoughts of his learning, and to speak of him accordingly. So that one of
his Oxford friends, as he travelled through Childry, enquiring, for his diver-
sion, of some people, who was their minister, and how they liked him,
received from them this answer, Our parson is one Mr. Pocock, a plain,
honest man ; but Master, said they, he is no Latiner." Trail's Life of Dr.
Edward Pocock, prefixed to Pocock's Theological Works, p. 22.

9 But every dayJ] Compare above, Life of Herbert, vol. iv. p. 38.

DOCTOR HENRY HAMMOND. 337

pie so far prevailed, that there was thenceforth little need of ever
making any tax for the poor. Nay, (if the report of a sober
person, born and bred up in that parish, be to be believed) in
short time a stock was raised to be always ready for the appren-
ticing of young children, whose parents'* condition made the pro-
vision for them an equal charity to both the child and parent.
And after this there yet remained a surplusage for the assistance
of the neighbour parishes.

For the relief of the poor, besides the forementioned expedient,
wherein others were sharers with him, unto his private charity,
the dedicating the tenth of all receipts, and the alms daily given
at the door, he constantly set apart over and above every week a
certain rate in money : and however rarely his own rent-days
occurred, the indigent had two and fifty quarter-days returning
in his year. Yet farther, another act of charity he had, the
selling corn to his poor neighbours at a rate below the market-
price : which though, as he said, he had reason to do, gaining
thereby the charge of portage, was a great benefit to them, who
besides the abatement of price, and possibly forbearance, saved
thereby a day's work.

He that was thus liberal to the necessitous poor, was no less
hospitable to those of better quality : and as at other times he
frequently invited his neighbours to his table, so more especially
on Sundays ; which seldom past at any time without bringing
some of them his guests : but here beyond the weekly treatments,
the Christmas festival had a peculiar allowance to support it.
He knew well how much the application at the table inforced the
doctrines of the pulpit, and how subservient the endearing of his
person was to the recommending his instructions ; how far upon
these motives our Saviour thought fit to eat with publicans and
sinners ; and how effectual the loaves were to the procuring of
disciples.

In accordance to which his generous freedom in alms and
hospitality, he farther obliged his parishioners in the setting of
their tithes and dues belonging to him ; for though he very well
understood how prone men are to give complaints in payment,
and how little obligation there is on him that lets a bargain to
consider the casual loss, who is sure never to share in a like sur-
plusage of gain ; yet herein he frequently departed from his right
insomuch that having set the tithe of a large meadow, and upon
agreement received part of the money at the beginning of the

VOL. iv. z

338 DOCTOR HENRY HAMMOND.

year ; it happening that the profits were afterwards spoiled and
carried away by a flood, he, when the tenant came to make his
last payment, not only refused it, but returned the former sum,
saying to the poor man, " God forbid I should take the tenth
where you have not the nine parts.'1

As by public admonition he most diligently instilled that great
and fundamental doctrine of peace and love, so did he likewise in
his private address and conversation, being never at peace in him-
self, till he had procured it amongst his neighbours; wherein
God so blest him, that he not only attained his purpose of uniting
distant parties unto each other, but, contrary to the usual fate of
reconcilers, gained them to himself: there having been no person
of his function any where better beloved than he when present, or
lamented more when absent, by his flock. Of which tender and
very filial affection, instead of more we may take two instances :
the one, that he being driven away, and his books plundered, one
of his neighbours bought them * in his behalf, and preserved them
for him till the end of the war ; the other, that during his abode
at Penshurst he never had any vexatious law dispute about his
dues, but had his tithes fully paid, and not of the most refuse
parts, but generally the very best.

Though he judged the time of sickness an improper season for
the great work of repentance ; yet he esteemed it a most useful
preparative, the voice of God himself exhorting to it : and there-
fore not only when desired made his visits to all such as stood in
need of those his charities, but prevented their requests by early
and frequent coming to them. And this he was so careful of,
that after his remove from Penshurst, being at Oxford, and
hearing of the sickness of one of his parishioners, he from thence
sent to him those instructions which he judged useful in that
exigent, and which he could not give at nearer distance.

For the institution of youth in the rudiments of piety, his
custom was during the warmer season of the year, to spend an
hour before evening-prayer in catechising, whereat the parents
and older sort were wont to be present, and from whence (as he
with comfort was used to say) they reaped more benefit than
from his sermons. Where it may not be superfluous to observe
that he introduced no new form of catechism *, but adhered to

1 Bought them.'] Compare Life of Bishop Hall, above, p. 320.

2 No new form of catechism.'] The later years of queen Elizabeth, and tbe
reign of king James, and, though in a less degree, that of king Charles, pro-

DOCTOR HENRY HAMMOND. 339

that of the church ; rendering it fully intelligible to the meanest
capacities by his explanations. It may be useful withal to advert,

duced a vast multitude of catechisms, written by independent and unautho-
rized individuals, which, for the most part, were composed upon very narrow,
and Calvinistical principles. In reference to some of these Dr. Thomas
Jackson says, " In the mean time, I shall every day bless my Lord God, as
for all others, so in particular for the great blessing bestowed upon me, that
I was in a convenient age, in a happy time and place, presented by my sure-
ties in baptism, to ratify the vow which they made for me, and to receive the
benediction of the bishop of the diocese : being first instructed in the Church's
Catechism, by the curate of the parish, from whose lips (though but a mere
grammar scholar, and one that knew better how to read an Homily, or to
understand Hemingius, or the Latin Postills, than to make a sermon, in
English) I learned more good lessons, than I did from many popular ser-
mons : and to this day remember more, than men of this time of greater
years shall find in many late applauded Catechisms." And a little afterwards :
"Albeit the reverend fathers of our church, and their suffragans, should use
all possible care and diligence for performing of all that is on their parts
required, yet without some better conformity of Catechisms, and reformation
of such as write them, or preach doctrines conformable to them, there is small
hope, that in such plenty of preachers, as now there are, this work of the
Lord should prosper half so well, as it did in those times and in those
dioceses, wherein there were scarce ten able preachers, besides the preben-
daries of the cathedral church, under whose tuition in a manner the rest of
the clergy were .... The writers then in most esteem were Melancthon,
Bullinger, Hemingius (especially in Postills, and other opuscula of his,) or
other writers, who were most conformable to the book of Homilies, which
were weekly read upon severe penalty." Jackson's Works, vol. iii. p. 273.
In like manner Wren, bishop of Ely, in his Answer to the Articles of Impeach-
ment, exhibited against him [see p. 307, ante] in the year 1641, by the house
of commons, for some alleged crimes and misdemeanours, saith, " That he did
direct that the said catechizing should be according to the catechism of the
church of England only, which catechism is by the law of the land in the
rubrics of the service-book proposed as the rule of examination for the bishop
to go by, and is the best form that ever was compiled for laying the founda-
tion and grounds of religion in the hearts and minds of unlearned Christians.
He considered also, that the great variety of catechisms which every man did in
former time thrust out at his pleasure, did distract and corrupt the minds of
the people, more than any thing else, sowing in them the seeds both of error
and faction. And he conceived it an unreasonable thing, that in the church
any catechizing should be publicly practised, but according to the catechism
which the church of England in her liturgy alloweth. The due observation
whereof was so far from suppressing knowledge, or introducing ignorance, that
the defendant is humbly confident it produced the quite contrary effects. For
some godly and laborious ministers (by name, as he remembereth, one Mr.
Crackenthoym [Crackenthorpe ?], then parson of Burton Magna in Suffolk, and
another of his diocese neighbour, with him, men otherwise unknown to this

z 2

340 DOCTOR HENRY HAMMOND.

that if in those times catechetical institution were very season-
able it will now be much more ; when principles have been ex-
changed for dreams of words and notions 2 ; if not for a worse
season of profane contempt of Christian truth. But to return ;
besides all this, that there might be no imaginable assistance
wanting, he took care for the providing an able schoolmaster in
the parish, which he continued during the whole time of his
abode.

And as he thus laboured in the spiritual building up of souls,
he was not negligent of the material fabric committed to his
trust : but repaired with a very great expence (the annual charge
of 100£.) his parsonage-house ; till from an incommodious ruin he
had rendered it a fair and pleasant dwelling, with the adherent
conveniences of gardens and orchards.

While he was thus busy on his charge, though he so prodigally
laid out himself upon the interests of his flock, as he might seem
to have nothing left for other purposes ; and his humility recom-
mended above all things privacy and retirement to him : yet
when the uses of the public called him forth, he readily obeyed
the summons, and frequently preached both at St. Paul's Cross,
and the visitations of his brethren the clergy, (a specimen whereof
appears in print,) as also at the cathedral church of Chichester,
where by the unsought-for favour of the reverend father in God,
Brian 4, then lord bishop of that see, since of Winchester, he had
an interest, and had the dignity of arch-deacon : which at the
beginning of the late troubles falling to him \ he managed with
great zeal and prudence ; not only by all the charms of Christian

defendant) came to visit him, and told him, that they blessed God for the good,
which upon half a year's experience they had found therein, professing that their
people had sensibly profited more by this catechizing within that short space,
for the true apprehending and understanding the grounds of religion, than
they had done by their great and constant labours in preaching to them for
some years before." Wren's Parent alia, p. 85.

8 Words and notions."] " 17 Sept. (1655.) On Sunday afternoon, I fre-
quently stay'd at home to catechise and instruct my familie, those exercises
universally ceasing in the parish churches, so as people had no principles,
and grew very ignorant of even the common points of Christianity, all devo-
tion being now placed in hearing sermons and discourses of speculative and
notional things." Evelyn's Memoirs, vol. i. p. 287. 1818.

4 Brian.']. Brian Duppa, dean of Christ Church; bishop of Chichester,
June 12, 1638; bishop of Salisbury, 1641 ; bishop of Winchester, Sept. 10,
1660; died March 26, 1662.

6 Falling to him.] In the year 1643. Le Neve's Fasti, p. 66.

DOCTOR HENRY HAMMOND. 341

rhetoric persuading to obedience and union, but by the force of
demonstration charging it as most indispensable duty, and (what
was then not so readily believed) the greatest temporal interest
of the inferior clergy : wherein the eminent importance of the
truths he would inforce so far prevailed over his otherwise insu-
perable modesty, that in a full assembly of the clergy, as he
afterwards confessed, he broke off from what he had preme-
ditated, and out of the abundance of his heart spoke to his
auditory ; and by the blessing of God, to which he attributed it,
found a very signal reception.

In the year 1 639 he proceeded doctor in divinity ; his seniority
in the university and employment in the church and (what per-
chance was a more importunate motive) the desire of eleven of
his friends and contemporaries in the same house, whom not to
accompany might be interpreted an affected pride and singularity,
at least an unkindness, jointly persuading him to it.

His performance in the act, where he answered the doctors,
was to the equal satisfaction and wonder of his hearers; a
country-life usually contracting at the least an unreadiness to
the dexterous management of those exercises, which was an
effect undiscernible in him.

About this time he became a member of the convocation called
with the short parliament in 1 640 ; as after this he was named
to be of the assembly of divines ; his invincible loyalty to his
prince and obedience to his mother the church not being so valid
arguments against his nomination, as the repute of his learning
and virtue were on the other part, to have some title to him.

And now that conformity became a crime, and tumults
improving into hostility and war, such a crime as had chastise-
ments severe enough; though the committee of the country
summoned him before them, and used those their best arguments
of persuasion, threatenings and reproaches, he still went on in
his regular practice, and continued it till the middle of July 1 643.
At which time there being in his neighbourhood about Tunbridge
an attempt in behalf of the king, and his doctrine and example
having had that good influence, as it was supposed, to have made
many more ready to the discharge of their duty ; it being defeated,
the good doctor (the malice of one who designed to succeed in
his living being withal assistant) was forced to secure himself by
retirement ; which he did, withdrawing himself to his old tutor
Dr. Buckner ; to whom he came about the 25th of July, early in

342 DOCTOR HENRY HAMMOND.

the morning, in such an habit as that exigence made necessary
for him ; and whither not many days before his old friend and
fellow-pupil Dr. Oliver came upon the same errand. Which
accident, and the necessity to leave his flock, as the doctor after-
wards frequently acknowledged, was that which did most affect
him of any that he felt in his whole life : amidst which, though
he was no valuer of trifles, or any thing that looked like such,
he had so extraordinary a dream, that he could not then despise,
nor ever afterwards forget it.

It was thus. He thought himself and a multitude of others to
have been abroad in a bright and cheerful day, when on a sudden
there seemed a separation to be made, and he with the far less
number to be placed at a distance from the rest ; and then the
clouds gathering, a most tempestuous storm arose, with thun-
dering and lightnings, with spouts of impetuous rain, and violent
gusts of wind, and whatever else might add unto a scene of
horror ; particularly balls of fire that shot themselves among the
ranks of those that stood in the lesser party ; when a gentle whisper
seemed to interrupt those other louder noises, saying, " Be still,
and ye shall receive no harm." Amidst these terrors the doctor
falling to his prayers, soon after the tempest ceased, and that
known cathedral anthem began, Come, Lord Jesus, come away ;
with which he awoke. The correspondent event of all which he
found verified signally in the preservation both of himself and his
friends, in doing of their duties ; the which with much content he
was used to mention. Beside, being himself taken to the quires of
angels at the close of that land hurricane of ours, whereof that
dismal apparition was only a faint emblem, he gave thereby too
literal a completion to his dream, and the unhappy credit of
bordering upon prophecy.

In this retirement the two doctors remained about three
weeks, till an alarm was brought that a strict enquiry was made
for doctor Hammond, and 100?. promised as a reward for him
that should produce him. Which suggestion though they easily
apprehended to have a possibility of being false, yet they con-
cluded a necessary ground for their remove.

Upon this they resolve to be gone ; and Dr. Oliver having an
interest in Winchester, which was then in the king^s quarters,
they chose that as the next place of their retreat. But being on
the way thither, Dr. Oliver, who had sent his servant befor.
make provision for them, was met and saluted with the news that

DOCTOR HENRY HAMMOND. 343

doctor Frewen, president of Magdalen college, was made bishop
of Litchfield, and that the college had pitched upon him as suc-
cessor. This unlooked-for accident -(as justly it might) put
doctor Oliver to new counsels ; and since Providence had found
out so seasonable a relief, inclined him not to desert it, but fly
rather to his preferments and advantage, than merely to his
refuge, and so to divert to Oxford. To this Dr. Hammond made
much difficulty to assent, thinking that too public a place, and,
what he more considered, too far from his living, whither (his
desires strongly inclining him) he had hopes (when the present
fury was allayed) to return again ; and to that purpose had
written to such friends of his as were in power, to use their in-
terest for the procuring his security. But his letters meeting a
cold reception, and the company of his friend on one hand, and
the appearance of deserting him on the other hand, charming
him to it, he was at last persuaded ; and encompassing Hamp-
shire, with some difficulty came to Oxford ; where procuring an .
apartment in his old college, he sought that peace in his retire-
ment and study which was no where else to be met withal ;
taking no other diversion than what the giving encouragement
and instruction to ingenious young students yielded him, (a thing
wherein he peculiarly delighted) and the satisfaction which he
received from the conversation of learned men, who, besides the
usual store, in great number at that time for their security
resorted thither.

Among the many eminent persons with whom he here con-
versed, he had particular intimacy with Dr. Potter, provost of
Queen's college, to whom, among other fruits of his studies, he
communicated his Practical Catechism, which for his private use
he had drawn up. The provost, much taken with the design,
and no less with the performance, importuned him to make it
public ; alleging, in that lawless age the great use of supplanting
the empty form of godliness which so prevailed, by substituting
of its real power and sober duties ; of silencing prophaneness,
which then usurped the names of wit and gallantry, by enforcing
the more eligible acts of the Christian's reasonable service ;
which was not any other way so happily to be done as by begin-
ning at the foundation by sound, and yet not trivial, catechetic
institution.

It was not hard to convince Dr. Hammond that it were well
if some such thing were done ; but that his writing would do this

344 DOCTOR HENRY HAMMOND.

in any measure, or that he should suffer his name to become
public, it was impossible to persuade him. The utmost he could
be brought to allow of was, that his treatise was not likely to do
harm, but had possibilities of doing (it might be) some good, and
that it would not become him to deny that service to the world ;
especially if his modesty might be secured from pressure by the
concealing of him to be the author. And this doctor Potter,
that he might leave no subterfuge, undertook, and withal the
whole care of, and besides the whole charge of the edition. Upon
these terms, only with this difference, that doctor Hammond
would not suffer the provost to be at the entire charge, but went
an equal share with him, the Practical Catechism saw the light,
and likewise the author remained in his desired obscurity.

But in the mean time the book finding the reception which it
merited8, the good doctor was by the same arguments con-
strained to give way to the publishing of several other tracts
which he had written upon heads that were then most perverted
by popular error, as of Conscience, of Scandal, of Will-worship, of
Resisting the lawful Magistrate, and of the Change of Church
Government ; his name all this while concealed, and so preserved,
till curiosity improving its guesses into confident asseverations,
he was rumoured for the author, and as such published to the
world by the London and Cambridge stationers, who without his
knowledge reprinted those and other of his works.

In the interim a treaty being laboured by his majesty, to com-
pose (if it were possible) the unhappy differences in church and
state, and in order thereunto the duke of Richmond and earl of
Southampton being sent to London, doctor Hammond went along

6 Which it merited.'} " King Charles I. in his last instructions to his
children, recommended this among other eminent books, as a most safe and
sound guide in religion : and his choice has been fully approved by his sub-
jects. We see that while other institutions of Christian religion are in vogue
for a time, and afterwards become antiquated and neglected, this rather grows
than decays in its reputation, being composed with such solid learning, judg-
ment, and piety, as will always endear it to serious persons of every rank and
condition." — Life of Dr. Hammond, prefixed to the Practical Catechism.
" I also remember," (says Whiston, in the Memoirs of his own Life, vol. i.
p. 10) " what my father told me; that after the restoration, almost all pro-
fession of seriousness in religion would have been laughed out of counte-
nance, under pretence of the hypocrisy of the former times, had not two very
excellent and serious books, written by eminent royalists, put some stop to
it : I mean The whole Duty of Man ; and Dr. Hammond's Practical Catechism.'1

DOCTOR HENRY HAMMOND. 345

as chaplain to them, where with great zeal and prudence he
laboured to undeceive those seduced persons whom he had oppor-
tunity to converse with : and when the treaty was solemnly ap-
pointed at Uxbridge7, several divines being sent thither in
behalf of the different parties, he, among other excellent men
that adhered to the king, was made choice of to assist in that
employment. And there (not to mention the debates between
the commissioners, which were long since published by an honour-
able hand) doctor Steward and master Henderson were at first
only admitted to dispute ; though at the second meeting the
other divines were called in : which thing was a surprize, and
designed for such, to those of the king's part, who came as chap-
lains and private attendants on the lords, but was before projected
and prepared for by those of the presbyterian way. And in this
conflict it was the lot of doctor Hammond to have master Vines
for his antagonist, who, instead of tendering a scholastic disputa-
tion, read from a paper a long divinity lecture, wherein were
interwoven several little cavils and exceptions, which were meant
for arguments. Doctor Hammond perceiving this, drew forth
his pen and ink, and as the other was reading, took notes of what
was said, and then immediately returned in order an answer to
the several suggestions, which were about forty in number:
which he did with that readiness and sufficiency as at once gave
testimony to his ability, and to the evidence of the truth he
asserted ; which, amidst the disadvantage of extempore against
premeditation, dispelled with ease and perfect clearness all the
sophisms that had been brought against him.

It is not the present work to give an account of that whole
dispute, or character the merits of those worthy persons who
were engaged in it, either in that or the succeeding meetings ;
especially since it was resolved by both parties that the trans-
actions of neither side should be made public. But notwithstand-
ing this, since divers persons addicted to the defence of a side,
without any further consideration of truth or common honesty,
have in this particular wounded the doctor's reputation, I shall
take leave to say, that had the victories in the field, which were
managed by the sword, been like this of the chamber and the
tongue, a very easy act of oblivion must have atoned for them ;
since what never was, without much industry might be secured
from being remembered. The impudent falsity raised upon the
7 At Uxbridge.] See Clarendon's Hist, of the Rebellion, book viii.

346 DOCTOR HENRY HAMMOND.

doctor was this, that Mr. Vines utterly silenced him ; insomuch
that he was fain to use this unheard-of stratagem to avoid his
adversary^ demonstration, to swear by God and the holy angels,
that though at present a solution did not occur to him, he could
answer it. Concerning this we have the doctor's own account in
a letter of his, bearing date Jan. 22, ann. 1655, directed to a
friend who had advertised him of this report.

" I have formerly been told within these few years that there
went about a story much to my disparagement, concerning the
dispute at Uxbridge (for there it was, not at Holdenby) with
Mr. Vines ; but what it was I could never hear before : now I do,
I can, I think, truly affirm, that no one part of it hath any degree
of truth, save only that Mr. Vines did dispute against, and I
defend, episcopacy. For as to the argument mentioned, I did
never then, nor at any time of my life, (that I can remember)
ever hear it urged by any. And for my pretended answer, I am
both sure that I never called God and his holy angels to witness
any thing in my life, nor ever swore one voluntary oath that I
know of, (and sure there was then none imposed on me) and that
I was not at that meeting conscious to myself of wanting ability
to express my thoughts, or pressed with any considerable diffi-
culty, or forced by any consideration to wave the answer of any
thing objected. A story of that whole affair I am yet able to tell
you, but I cannot think it necessary. Only this I may add, that
after it I went to Mr. Marshall in my own and brethren's name,
to demand three things : 1. Whether any argument proposed by
them remained unanswered, to which we might yield farther
answer ? 2. Whether they intended to make any report of the
past disputation ; offering, if they would, to join with them in it,
and to perfect a conference by mutual consent, after the manner
of that between Dr. Reynolds and Mr. Hart 8 ? both which being
rejected, the 3d was, to promise each other that nothing should
be afterwards published by either without the consent or know-
ledge of the other party. And that last he promised for himself
and his brethren, and so we parted.11

But while these things were in doing, a canonry in Cli
church in Oxford became vacant, which the king immediately
bestowed 9 on doctor Hammond, though then absent ; whom like-

8 And Mr. Hart.] See above, L\fe of Hooker, vol. iii. ji. 406, note.

9 Immediately bestowed.] This was in the year 1044. Le Neve's Fasti,
p. 234.

DOCTOR HENRY HAMMOND. 347

wise the university chose their public orator : which preferments,
though collated so freely, and in a time of exigence, he was with
much difficulty wrought upon by his friends to accept, as minding
nothing so much as a return to his old charge at Penshurst.
But the impossibility of a sudden opportunity of going thither
being evident unto him, he at last accepted ; and was soon after
made chaplain in ordinary to his majesty.

But these new employments no way diverted him from his
former tasks ; for, according to his wonted method, he continued
to address remedies to the increasing mischiefs of the times, and
published the tracts of Superstition, Idolatry, Sins of Weakness
and Wilfulness, Death-led Repentance, View of the Directory ; as
also in answer to a Komanist, who, taking advantage of the pub-
lic ruin, hoped to erect thereon trophies to the Capitol, his Vin-
dication of the Lord Falkland, who was not long before fallen in
another kind of war.

But now the king's affairs declining every where, and Oxford
being forced upon articles to surrender to the enemy, where after
the expiration of six months all things were to be left to the lust
and fury of a servile, and therefore insolent, conqueror ; though
he foresaw a second and more fatal siege approaching, a leaguer
of encamped inevitable mischiefs, yet he remitted nothing of his
wonted industry, writing his tracts of Fraternal Correction, and
Power of the Keys, and Apologies by Letter against the pulpit
calumnies of Mr. Cheynel, and the exceptions taken at his Prac-
tical Catechism.

In the mean time his sacred majesty, sold by his Scottish into
the hands of his English subjects, and brought a prisoner to
Holdenby, where, stripped of all his royal attendants, and denied
that common charity which is afforded the worst of malefactors,
the assistance of divines *, though he with importunity desired it,
he being taken from the parliament commissioners into the pos-
session of the army, at last obtained that kindness from them 2,

1 The assistance of divines.] Compare Icon Basilikd, chap. xxiv. Upon their
denying his majesty the attendance of his chaplains.

2 That kindness from them.'] See Baxter's Life and Times, part i. p. 60.
" While the king was at Hampton Court the mutable hypocrites first pre-
tended an extraordinary care of his honour, liberty, safety, and conscience.
They blamed the austerity of the parliament, who had denied him the attendance
of his own chaplains, and of bis friends in whom he took most pleasure.
They gave liberty for his friends and chaplains to come to him : they pre-

348 DOCTOR HENRY HAMMOND.

(who were to be cruel at another rate) which was withheld by the
two houses, and was permitted the service of some few of his
chaplains, whom he by name had sent for, and among them of
doctor Hammond.

Accordingly the good doctor attended on his master in the
several removes of Woburn, Caversham, and Hampton Court, as
also thence into the Isle of Wight, where he continued till Christ-
mas 1647; at which time his majesty's attendants were again
put from him, and he amongst the rest.

Sequestered from this his melancholic but most desired employ-
ment, he returned again to Oxford ; where being chosen sub-
dean, an office to which belongs much of the scholastic govern-
ment of the college, and soon after proved to be the whole, (the
dean 3, for the guilt of asserting the rights of his majesty and the
university in his station of vice-chancellor, being made a prisoner,)
he undertook the entire management of all affairs, and discharged
it with great sufficiency and admirable diligence, leaving his
beloved studies to interest himself not only in moderating at divi-
nity disputations, which was then an immediate part of his task,
but in presiding at the more youthful exercises of sophistry,
themes, and declamations ; redeeming still at night these vacui-
ties of the day, scarce ever going to bed till after midnight, some-
times not till three in the morning, and yet certainly rising to
prayers at five.

Nor did his inspection content itself in looking to the general
performances of duty, but descended to an accurate survey of

tended that they would save him from the incivilities of the parliament and
Presbyterians. Whether this were while they tried what terms they could
make with him for themselves, or while they acted any other part : it is cer-
tain that the king's old adherents began to extol the army, and to speak
against the Presbyterians more distastefully than before. When the parlia-
ment offered the king propositions for concord, (which Vane's faction made
as high and unreasonable as they could, that they might come to nothing)
the army forsooth offer him proposals of their own, which the king liked
better : but which of them to treat with he did not know. At last, on the
sudden the judgment of the army changed, and they began to cry for justice
against the king ; and with vile hypocrisy, to publish their repentance, and
to cry God mercy for their kindness to the king, and confess that they were
under a temptation : but in all this, Cromwell and Ireton, and the rest of the
council of war appeared not : the instruments of all this work must be the
common soldiers."

3 The dean.] Dr. Samuel Fell, father of bishop Fell, the author of this Life
of Dr. Hammond. See Walker's Sufferings of the Clergy, p. 102.

DOCTOR HENRY HAMMOND. 349

every one's both practice and ability ; so that this large society
of scholars appeared his private family, he scarce leaving any
single person without some mark or other of both his charity and
care, relieving the necessitous in their several wants of money and
of books, shaming the vicious to sobriety, encouraging the inge-
nuous to diligence, and finding stratagems to ensnare the idle to
a love of study. But above all he endeavoured to prepare his
charge for the reception of the impending persecution, that they
might adorn their profession, and not at the same time suffer for
a cause of righteousness, and as evil-doers.

To this end he both admitted and solemnly invited all sober
persons to his familiarity and converse ; and besides that, received
them to his weekly private office of fasting and humiliation.

But now the long-expected ruin breaking in with its full weight
and torrent, the visitors 4 chafed with their former disappointments
and delays, coming with hunters' stomachs, and design to boot,
for to seize first and then devour the prey, by a new method of
judicature being to kill and then take possession, the excellent
doctor became involved in the general calamity. And whereas
the then usual law of expulsion was immediately to banish into
the wide world by beat of drum enjoining to quit the town within
24 hours, upon pain of being taken and used as spies, and not to
allow the unhappy exiles time for the dispose either of their pri-
vate affairs, or stating the accounts of their respective colleges or
pupils ; the reverend doctor Sheldon 5, now lord bishop of London,
and dean of his majesty's chapel royal, and doctor Hammond,
were submitted to a contrary fate, and by an order from a com-
mittee of parliament were restrained and voted to be prisoners in
that place, from which all else were so severely driven. But such
was the authority and command of exemplary virtue, that the
person designed to succeed in the canonry of Christ church,
though he had accepted of the place at London, and done his
exercise for it at Oxford, acting as public orator in flattering there
the then-pretending chancellor, yet he had not courage to pursue

4 The visitors.'] For a full account of the Oxford Visitation, see Walker's
Sufferings of the Clergy, part i. p. 122 — 44. Wood's Hist, and Antiquities,
&c. vol. ii. p. 501 — 618. 4to. edit. Ayliffe's Antient and present state of the
University of Oxford, vol. i. p. 21 3 — 39.

5 Sheldon.'] Gilbert Sheldon, prebendary of Gloucester; bishop of London,
October 23, 1660; archbishop of Canterbury July 14, 1663; died November
9, 1677.

350 DOCTOR HENRY HAMMOND.

his undertaking, but voluntarily relinquished that infamous rob-
bery, and adhered to a less scandalous one in the country. And
then the officer who was commanded to take doctor Sheldon and
him into custody upon their designed removal, colonel Evelin, then
governor of Wallingford-castle, (though a man of as opposite
principles to church and churchmen as any of the adverse party)
wholly declined the employment, solemnly protesting, that if they
came to him they should be entertained as friends, and not as
prisoners.

But these remorses proved but of little effect ; the prebend of
Christ Church being suddenly supplied by a second choice, and
Oxford itself being continued the place of their confinement:
where accordingly the good doctor remained, though he were de-
manded by his majesty to attend him in the Isle of Wight at the
treaty there, which then was again reinforced. The pretence
upon which both he and the reverend doctor Sheldon were refused
was, that they were prisoners ; and probably the gaining that was
the cause why they were so. But notwithstanding the denial of a
personal attendance, the excellent prince required that assistance
which might consist with absence, and at this time sent for a
copy of that sermon which almost a year before he had heard
preached in that place. The which sermon his majesty, and
thereby the public, received with the accession of several others
delivered upon various occasions.

Doctor Hammond having continued about ten weeks in his
restraint in Oxford, where he began to actuate his design of writ-
ing Annotations on the New Testament, (nor was it dispropor-
tionate that those sacred volumes, a great part of which was
written in bonds, should be first commented upon by the very
parallel suffering, and that the work itself should be so dedicated,
and the expositor fitted for his task by being made like the author)
by the interposition of his brother-in-law, sir John Temple, he had
licence granted to be removed to a more acceptable confinement,
to Clapham in Bedfordshire, the house in which his worthy friend
sir Philip Warwick lived. Where soon after his arrival, that
horrid mockery of justice, the rape and violence of all that is
sacred, made more abominable by pretending to right and piety,
the trial of the king, drew on ; and he being in no other capacity
to interpose than by writing, drew up an Address to the general
and council of officers, and transmitted it to them. And when
that unexampled VILLAINY found this excuse, that it was such

DOCTOR HENRY HAMMOND. 351

as could be pleaded for, and men in cool blood would dare to own
and justify, he affixed his Reply to the suggestions of Ascham
and Goodwin. And now, although he indulged to his just and
almost infinite griefs, which were transported to the utmost
bounds of sober passion, the affectionate personal respect he bore
unto that glorious victim being added to the detestation due unto
the guilt itself, of which no man was more sensible than he, who
had strange antipathies to all sin, he gave not up himself to an
unactive dull amazement, but with the redoubled use of fasting,
tears, and solemn prayer, he resumed his wonted studies ; and
besides his fitting the Annotations for the press, and his little
tract of the Reasonableness of Christian Beligion, he now composed
his Latin one against Blondel in the behalf of episcopacy. As to
the first of which, (his Annotations,) the manner of its birth and
growth was thus :

Having written in Latin two large volumes in quarto of the
way of interpreting the New Testament, with reference to the
customs of the Jews and of the first heretics in the Christian
church, and of the heathens, especially in the Grecian games, and
above all the importance of the Hellenistical dialect, into which
he had made the exactest search (by which means in a manner he
happened to take in all the difficulties of that sacred book :) he
began to consider that it might be more useful to the English
reader, who was to be his immediate care, to write in our vulgar
language and set every observation in its natural order, according
to the guidance of the text. And having some years before col-
lated several Greek copies of the New Testament, observed the
variation of our English from the original, and made an entire
translation of the whole for his private use ; being thus prepared,
he cast his work into that form in which it now appears. The
reasons of it need not to be here inserted, being set down by his
own pen in his preface to his Annotations.

The tractate against Blondel grew to its last form and constitu-
tion by not unlike degrees, having a very different occasion from
the last performance. The immediate antecedent cause is owned,
and long ago presented to the world in that writing ; the more
remote original is as follows. The late most learned primate of
Armagh having received from David Blondel a letter of exception
against his edition of Ignatius, he communicated it to doctor
Hammond, desiring his sense of several passages therein con-
tained, relating to the Valentinian heresy, episcopal and chor-

352 DOCTOR HENRY HAMMOND.

episcopal power, and some emergent difficulties concerning them,
from the canons of several Eastern councils. To all this the
doctor wrote a peculiar answer, promising a fuller account if it
would be useful. Upon the receipt whereof the archbishop being
highly satisfied, returned his thanks, and laid hold of the promise ;
which being accordingly discharged, became the provision (and
gave materials) to a great part of the dissertations. The primate's
letter ran in these words :

" I have read with great delight and content your accurate
Answer to the Objections made against the credit of Ignatius's
Epistles, for which T do most heartily thank you, and am moved
thereby farther to intreat you to publish to the world in Latin
what you have already written in English against this objector,
and that other, who for your pains hath rudely requitted you
with the base appellation of Nebulo for the assertion of epis-
copacy : to the end it may no longer be credited abroad that
these two have so beaten down this calling, that the defence
thereof is now deserted by all men, as by Lud. Capellus is inti-
mated in his thesis of church government, at Sedan lately pub-
lished ; which I leave unto your serious consideration, and all
your godly labours to the blessing of our good God, in whom I
evermore rest,

" Your very loving friend

and brother,

" Eeygate in Surrey* " JA. ARMACHANUS."

July 21, 1649."

Now in this request the archbishop was so concerned, that he
reinforced it by another letter of Aug. 30, and congratulated the
performance by a third of Jan. 14. Both which, though very
worthy to see the public light, are yet forborne, as several of the
like kind from the reverend fathers and bishops of this, and our
sister churches, as also from the most eminent for piety and
learning of our own and the neighbouring nations : which course
is taken not only in accordance to the desires and sentiments of
the excellent doctor, who hated every thing that looked like
ostentation ; but likewise to avoid the very unpleasing choice,
either to take the trouble of recounting all the doctor's cor-
respondencies, or bear the envy of omitting some.

But to return to the present task and that of the good doctor,
which now was to perfect his Commentaries on the New Testa-

DOCTOR HENRY HAMMOND. 353

ment, and finish the Dissertations : amidst which cares he met
with another of a more importunate nature, the loss of his dear
mother, which had this unhappy accession, that in her sickness
he could not be permitted, by reason of his being concerned in
the proclamation that banished those that adhered to the king
twenty miles from London, to visit her ; nor while she paid her
latest debt to nature, to pay his earlier one of filial homage and
attendance.

A few months after, the rigour of that restraint with the
declining of the year (a season judged less commodious for enter-
prise) being taken off, he removed into Worcestershire, to West-
wood, the house of the eminently loyal sir John Pakington ; where
being settled and proceeding in the edition of those his labours
which he had begun at Clapham, his majesty coming to Wor-
cester, by his neighbourhood to that place, the good doctor, as he
had the satisfaction personally to attend his sovereign, and the
honour to receive a letter from his own hand of great importance,
for the satisfaction of his loyal subjects concerning his adherence
to the established religion of the church of England, wherein his
royal father lived a saint and died a martyr ; so likewise had he
on the other part the most immediate agonies for his defeat ; to
which was added the calamity which fell upon the family where
he dwelt, from the persecution and danger of the generous master
of it. But it pleased God to give an issue out of both those
difficulties, especially in the miraculous deliverance 6 of his sacred
majesty : a dispensation of so signal an importance, that he
allowed it a solemn recognition in his constant offices during his
whole life, receiving that unusual interposition of Providence as a
pledge from heaven of an arrier of mercies ; to use his own
words, " That God who had thus powerfully rescued him from
Egypt, would not suffer him to perish in the wilderness ; but
though his passage be through the Red Sea, he would at last
bring him into Canaan ; that he should come out of his tribula-
tions as gold out of the fire, purified, but not consumed."

But notwithstanding these reflexions, bottomed upon piety and
reliance upon heaven, the present state of things had a quite
different prospect in common eyes ; and the generality of men
thinking their religion as troublesome a burthen as their loyalty,

6 Miraculous deliverance.'] See True Narrative and Relation of his most
Sacred Majesty's Escape from Worcester, on the 3d Sept. 1651, till his Arrival
at Paris. Harleian Miscellany, fyc.

VOL. iv. A a

354 DOCTOR HENRY HAMMOND.

with the same prudence by which they changed their mild and
gracious sovereign for a bloody TYRANT, began to seek a pompous
and imperious church abroad, instead of a pious and afflicted one
at home. To which event the Roman missionaries 7 gave their
liberal contribution, affording their preposterous charity to make
them proselytes who had no mind to be confessors or martyrs.

7 Roman missionaries.'] It seems a fact beyond dispute, that the evils of
these unhappy times were inflamed and aggravated by the machinations of
many Romish incendiaries ; and that especially under the disguise of fanatics
and agitators. In Foxes and Firebrands, or a Specimen of the Danger and
Harmony of Popery and Separation, the following anecdote is related, in which
Dr. Hammond bore a part.

" Mr. John Crooke, sometime bookseller in St. Paul's church-yard, at
the Ship, in London, and since stationer and printer to his most serene
majesty in Dublin, told this story following unto Sir James Ware, knight,
now deceased.

"Anno 1656, the reverend divine Dr. Henry Hammond, being one day in
the next shop to this said John Crooke's, and there reading the works of
St. Ambrose, a red-coat casually came in, and looked over this divine's
shoulder, and there read the Latin as perfect as himself, which caused the
doctor to admire that a red-coat should attain to that learning. Then speak-
ing unto him, he demanded how he came to that science ? The red-coat
replied, * By the Holy Spirit.' The doctor hereupon replied, * I will try
thee further :' and so called for a Greek author, which this red-coat not only
read, but construed. The doctor to try him further called for the Hebrew
Bible; and so for several other books, in which this red-coat was very
expert. At last the doctor, recollecting with himself, called for a Welsh
Bible, and said, ' If thou beest inspired, read me this book, and construe
it.' But the red-coat being at last catched, replied, * I have given thee
satisfaction enough : I will not satisfy thee further ; for thou wilt not believe,
though an angel came from heaven.' The doctor smelling out the deceit,
caused the apprentice to go for a constable ; who being brought to the shop,
the doctor told the constable he had something to say against this red-
coat ; and bade him bring him before Oliver Cromwell, then called the lord
protector. The red-coat being brought to White Hall, and examined, he,
after a rustic manner, thoued and theed Oliver : but being suspected, it was
demanded, where he quartered. It being found out, at the Devil Tavern,
the doctor intreated his chamber might be searched : where they found an
old chest filled partly with his wearing apparel, as also with several papers,
and seditious popish books ; amongst which there being a pair of boots, and
papers stuck in one of them, they found a parchment bull of licence to this
impostor, granted under several names, to assume what function or calling he
pleased. These being brought before Oliver ; for what reasons it is unknown,
yet the red-coat escaped ; bringing several proofs of what great service he
had done : and the greatest affliction which was laid on him, was banishment :
and what proceeded further we know not." Foxes, &c., part ii. p. 101, edit.
1682. See also, in vol. iii. of this work, Life of Jewel, p. 366.

DOCTOR HENRY HAMMOND. 355

Hereupon the doctor thought it highly seasonable to write his
tract of Schism, and oppose it to that most popular topic whereby
they amused and charmed their fond disciples. And whereas
the love of novelty prevailed in several other instances, as in
controlling the use and authority of the Scripture, defending
incestuous marriages, polygamy, divorce, the anabaptizing of
infants, the schismatical ordination of ministers by mere pres-
byters, and the disuse of the festivals of the church ; he applied
his antidotes to each: by which means he made himself the
common mark of opposition to all parties. For (besides the
assaults from a whole class of antagonists which the Disserta-
tions had engaged against him, and to which he was preparing
his defence,) upon the Romanists' part he was charged by the
Catholic Gentleman and his armour-bearer S. W. ; on the pres-
byterian account by Mr. Gawdry and Mr. Jeanes ; and in the
behalf of the independents and anabaptists by master Owen and
master Tombs : not to mention several others that sought them-
selves a name by being his gainsayers, but failed of their purpose
by bringing only spite and passion into the quarrel, and so were
to be answered only by pity and silence.

Nor did he only stand and keep at bay this multiplied
contest, but (as if this had not been task enough) besides the
intercurrent offices of life, his reception of visits, answering of
letters, his constant preaching and catechising, he found leisure
to write his tract of Fundamentals, his Parcenesis, his Review of
the Annotations ; and amidst all, to be in debt to his importunate
antagonists for nothing but their railing, leaving that the only
thing unanswered. Nay more than so, brought several of them
even under their own hands to recognize their sense of their undue
procedure used by them unto him : which their acknowledgments
yet remain, and are producible upon occasion.

And would to God he had met no other opposition ; for in
entrance on these conflicts that strength of body which before
had faithfully attended his indefatigable mind began to fail him,
and those four torments of disease, which single have been
judged a competent trial of human sufferance, the stone, the
gout, the cholic, and the cramp, (the last of which was to him as
tyrannous as any of the former) became in a manner the con-
stant exercise of his Christian fortitude and patience ; affording
him from this time to the end of his life very rare and short
intervals of vigorous health.

Aa2

356 DOCTOR HENRY HAMMOND.

But among all his labours, although polemic discourses were
otherwise most uneasy, as engaging to converse with men in
passion, a thing he naturally abhorred, his Parcenesis, a per-
suasive and practical tract (which now he wrote, and which upon
that account was exceeding agreeable to his desires) cost him
most throes and pangs of birth, as having been penned first in
tears, and then in ink. For however with great serenity he
entertained all other accidents, having habituated himself to his
beloved doctrine of submitting not to the will of God alone, but
to his wisdom, both which he was used to say were perfectly one
thing in that blest agent (and accordingly in the most dismal
appearance of event made this his constant motto, rOltO1? IT D3
Even this for good) ; yet in this instance the tenderness of his
soul seemed to have melted his resolution : the occasion of that
treatise being the interdict8 of Jan. 1655, which disabled the

8 The interdict."] That declaration, so far as it concerned the clergy, was in
these words.

" His highness, by the advice of his council, doth also publish, declare,
and order, that as no person, or persons aforesaid, do, from and after the
first day of January, 1655, keep in their houses or families, as chaplains, or
school-masters, for the education of their children, any sequestered or ejected
minister, fellow of a college, or schoolmaster : nor permit any of their chil-
dren to be taught by such, upon pain of being proceeded against, &c. And
that no person, who for delinquency or scandal, hath been sequestered or
ejected, shall, from and after the first day of January aforesaid, preach in any
public place, or at any private meeting of any other persons than those of
his own family : nor shall administer baptism, or the Lord's supper, or marry
any persons, or use the book of Common Prayer, or the forms of prayer
therein contained, upon pain that every person so offending, in any of the
premises shall be proceeded against as by the said orders is provided and
directed." But the extreme cruelty of this declaration seems to have pre-
vented its being long and generally inforced. See Walker's Sufferings of the
Clergy, part i. p. 1 94. In reference to this interdict the following anecdote
is told in Parr's Life of Archbishop Ussher, p. 75. " According to the desires
of many of the episcopal clergy, he went, and used his utmost endeavours
with Cromwell, for the taking off this restraint, which was at last promised
(though with some difficulty), that they should not be molested, provided
they meddled not with any matters relating to his government. But when
the lord primate went to him a second time, to get this promise ratified, and
put into writing, he found him under his chirurgeon's hands, who was
dressing a great boil which he had on his breast. So Cromwell prayed the
lord primate to sit down a little ; and that, when he was dressed, he would
speak with him. Whilst this was a doing, Cromwell said to the lord primate,
If this core (pointing to the boil) were once out I sh<>nld quickly be well. I"
which the good bishop replied, / dnuht the core lies deeper. There is a core

DOCTOR HENRY HAMMOND. 357

loyal suffering clergy from doing any ministerial act ; which he
resented with the highest passion ; not only upon the general
account of God's more immediate displeasure to the nation
legible therein, but (what he had much less reason to do) in
reference to his own particular ; he looking on this dispensation
of Providence as God's pronouncing him unworthy to do him
service, " the reproaching " (to use his own words) " his former
unprofitableness, by casting him out as straw to the dunghill."
Nor should any consideration that terminated on himself have
persuaded him at all to regard that tyrannous injunction, had
not charity to the family where he was, made him content to
admit of an expedient that secured all real duties, whilst he for
some short time forbore that attendance on the altar which was
the very joy of his life.

And now, though his physicians had earnestly forbidden his
accustomed fastings, and his own weaknesses gave forcible suf-
frages to their advice, yet he resumed his rigours, esteeming this
calamity such a one as admitted no exception, which should not
be outlived, but that it became men to be martyrs too, and
deprecate even in death.

While he thus earnestly implored the aids of heaven, and
exhorted unto present duty, he omitted not a third expedient, by
securing a succession to the church, thereby to preserve its future
being. And this he did not only in reference to the superior
order of episcopacy, which it has pleased God now to secure by
another more gracious method of his favour, and even miraculous
goodness ; but also in the inferior attendance on the altar : the
latter of which as it was an enterprise suiting well with his heroic
mind, so was it no way answering his narrow fortunes. The thing
in his design was this. Whereas the ancient stock of clergymen
were by this edict in a manner rendered useless, and the church
was at best like the Roman state in its first beginning, res unius
cetatis populus virorum, a nation of ancient persons hastening to

at the heart that must be taken out, or else it will not be well. Ah ! replied
he, seeming unconcerned, so there is indeed, and sighed. But when the
lord primate began to speak with him concerning the business he came
about, he answered him to this effect ; that he had since better considered it,
having advised with his council about it, and that they thought it not safe
for him to grant liberty of conscience to those sort of men, who are restless
and implacable enemies to him and his government; and so he took his
leave of him, though with good words and outward civility."

358 DOCTOR HENRY HAMMOND.

their graves, who must in a few years be wasted ; he projected
by pensions unto hopeful persons in either university, to maintain
a seminary of youth, instituted in piety and learning, upon the
sober principles and old establishment of the Anglican Church.
In which work, though the assistances he presumed on failed in a
great measure, yet somewhat not inconsiderable 9 in this kind by
himself and friends he did achieve, and kept on foot until his
death. In his instructions to them whom he employed in this
affair, he gave in charge " carefully to seek out such as were
piously inclined, and to prefer that qualification before unsancti-
fied good parts ;" adding this as a certain maxim, " that exem-
plary virtue must restore the church."

And whereas that black defeat at Worcester, raising the inso-
lent tyrant here unto that greatness which almost outwent the
impudence of his hopes, made him to be feared by foreign na-
tions almost as much as hated by his own, the loyal sufferers
abroad became subjected to the worst effect of banishment, and
were even there expelled and driven from their flights : so paral-
leling in their exigencies the most immediate objects of that
monster's fury. The excellent doctor, to whose diffusive virtue
the limits of the nation were too straight a circle, thought this
a season to exert his charity : accordingly, though this greatest

9 Not inconsiderable.'] One of the persons upon whom a portion of this
bounty was most deservedly bestowed was Isaac Barrow, afterwards the great
precursor of Sir Isaac Newton, and the pride of the English pulpit ; and another
was the Rev. Clement Ellis, a divine whose writings in practical theology, for
their eminent and fervent piety, for soundness of doctrine, and for a vigorous,
unaffected, and manly style, have been very rarely surpassed ; and deserve to
be much more extensively known, than it is apprehended they now are, or
ever have been.

" He received several donations towards his subsistence at Oxford from
unknown hands ; with anonymous letters to certify, that those sums were in
consideration of his father's sufferings, and to encourage his progress in his
studies. Several such presents and letters he had, both before and after his
being in holy orders, without his knowing from whence they came : but after
the restoration of the church and royal family, he had some reason to believe
that they came from Dr. (Jeremy) Taylor and Dr. Hammond, being part of
those collections of money, put into their hands by charitable and well-
disposed persons, for the support and encouragement of suffering loyalty."
Veneer's Account of the Life and Writings of Clement Ellis, M.A. prefixed
to the work entitled, The Scripture Catechist ; or the whole Religion of a
Christian, 1738, 8vo. See also the Life of Dr. Isaac Barrow, prefixed to his
Theological Works.

DOCTOR HEiNRY HAMMOND. 359

duty were solemnly declared treason, he then continued to send
over several sums for their relief.

Which practice of his, by the surprise of the person entrusted,
being discovered to the tyrant, he was alarmed with the expec-
tation of that usage which was then a certain consequent of such
meritorious acts. But this adventure brought nothing of amaze-
ment or disturbance to the doctor, his most importunate reflec-
tion being only this, that he seemed to have gained an opportu-
nity of saying something very home to that fierce monster con-
cerning his foul deeds, and to discourse the appropriate ways
remaining to alleviate at least, if not to expiate for them ; which
he purposed within himself to press to the highest advantage :
and indeed this was the only issue of that so threatening accident,
God's restraining power interposing here, and exemplifying upon
him what in others he was wont to observe, " that they who least
considered hazard in the doing of their duties fared still best."

And this success as it was indeed, and accordingly he frequently
acknowledged it for, an eminent act of the Divine Providence ; so
we may likewise take it as a signal testimony of the commanding
worth the doctor had, which extorted a reverence to his person
from that worst of men, and rendered him a sanctuary, perhaps
the only one this architect of mischief stood in awe of, and even
his sacrilege preserved inviolate.

Nor did this danger being over, as with others in all likelihood
it would have done, persuade to caution for the future ; but with
the wonted diligence that formerly he used, he immediately pro-
ceeded, and cheerfully went on in the pursuit of his heroic
charity.

Amidst these diversions grew up the labours of this hero, the
issue of his brain, being not only midwifed into the world like
natural births with torment and disease, but written, like Csesar's
Commentaries, in dangers and in war. And now besides the
replies which the importunities of master Owen, master Jeanes,
and master Tombs drew from him, W. S. continuing his loud
clamours and impudent triumph at his own folly, the good doctor
suffered himself to be engaged on that long answer, which proved
the last of that kind he made, excepting that single sheet put out
a few months before his death, as a specimen to what desperate
shifts the patrons of the Roman cause were driven : for though
some of his friends advised him to remit that divinity buffoon to
be answered in his own way by a slighter pen, he by no means

360 DOCTOR HENRY HAMMOND.

would admit of the proposal, resolving it unfit that another should
do in his behalf what was indecent for himself to do ; and though
there was no respect to be had of W. S. yet was the sacred cause
to be managed with reverence and awful regard. While this was
in hand the second Review of the Annotations came to light, as
also the Exposition on the Book of Psalms, and soon after the pa-
cific Discourse of God? s Grace and Decrees, ventilated between him
and his dear friend the reverend and most learned Dr. Sanderson,
now lord bishop of Lincoln, occasioned by some letters which
had passed on that subject between the said doctor and the reve-
rend Dr. Pierce. To this immediately succeeded the Latin tract
of Confirmation, in answer to the exceptions of Mr. Daille, which
was then prepared for the press, though detained much longer
upon prudential or rather charitative considerations, a respect to
which was strictly had in ah1 the doctor's writings ; it being his
care not only to publish sober and convincing, but withal season-
able, useful truths.

He was likewise enterprizing a farther Comnwn[ary on the Old
Testament, and began on the Book of Proverbs, and finished a
third part of it : but the completion of this and all other the
great intendments of the equally learned, pious, and indefatigable
author, received here a full period : it pleasing the Divine Provi-
dence to take to himself this high example of all moral and
Christian excellencies in a season when the church and nation
would least have been deprived of his aids towards the cementing
of those breaches which then began to offer at a closure.

It is easily to be presumed the reader will not be disobliged, if
we a while divert from this remaining sadder part of the under-
taken narrative, and entertain him with a survey of the personal
accomplishments of the excellent doctor. The particulars where-
of would not readily have fallen into the thread of history, or at
least had been disjointed there, and under disadvantage; but
will be made to stand in a much fairer light, when represented to
the view by way of character and picture.

And therefore to this prospect we cheerfully invite all eyes in
whose esteem virtue itself is lovely.

. TIOX 'I UK SK( ONI).

Tin. frame of his body was such as suited with the noble use
to which it was designed, the* entertaining a most pun- and active

DOCTOR HENRY HAMMOND. 361

soul, but equally to the advantages of strength and comeliness.
His stature was of just height and all proportionate dimensions,
avoiding the extremes of gross and meagre, advantaged by a
graceful carriage, at once most grave, and yet as much obliging.
His face carried dignity and attractives in it, scarce ever clouded
with a frown, or so much as darkened by reservedness. His eye
was quick and sprightful, his complexion clear and florid, so that
(especially in his youth) he had the esteem of a very beauteous
person ; which was lessened only by the colour of his hair :
though if the sentence of other ages and climates be of value,
that reasonably might be vouched as an accession to it.

To this outward structure was joined that strength of consti-
tution, patient of severest toil and hardship ; insomuch that for
the most part of his life, in the fiercest extremity of cold, he took
no other advantage of a fire, than at the greatest distance that
he could, to look upon it. As to diseases (till immoderate study
had wrought a change) he was in a manner only liable to fevers,
which a too constant temperance did in a great measure prevent,
and still assisted to relieve and cure.

Next to his frame of body, if we survey his inward faculties,
we shall find them just unto the promises of his outward shape.
His sight was quick to an unusual degree ; insomuch that if by
chance he saw a knot of men, a flock of sheep, or herd of cattle,
being engaged in discourse, and not at all thinking of it, he would
involuntary cast up their number, which others after long delays
could hardly reckon. His ear was accurate and tuned to his
harmonious soul, so that having never learned to sing by book or
study, he would exactly perform his part of many things to a
harpsicon or theorbo, and frequently did so in his more vigorous
years after the toil and labour of the day, and before the remain-
ing studies of the night. His elocution was free and graceful,
prepared at once to charm and to command his audience : and
when with preaching at his country charge he had in some degree
lost the due manage of his voice, his late sacred majesty, by
taking notice of the change, became his master of music, and
reduced him to his ancient decent modulation ; a kindness which
the doctor very gratefully acknowledged to his dying day, and
reported not only as an instance of the meek and tender conde-
scensions of that gracious prince, but improved to persuade others
by so great an example to that most friendly office of telling per-
sons of their faults, without which very commonly (as here it

362 DOCTOR HENRY HAMMOND.

happened) men must be so far from amending their errors, that
it is morally impossible they should ever know them.

As to his more inferior faculties, we must allow the first place
to his invention, his richest, altogether unexhausted treasure,
whose Sowings were with that full torrent, that for several years
after his choice of subject, which generally he had in prospect
beforehand, a little meditation on the Saturday night made up his
sermon : but in the last twelve of his life, finding the recollection
of his thoughts disturb his sleep, he remitted the particular care
of the composition and method of his future discourse to the
Sunday morning, wherein an hour's consideration fitted him to
the office of the day. With the like swiftness he dispatched his
writings, usually composing faster than his amanuensis, though a
very dexterous person, could transcribe after him. His Consi-
derations of present Necessity concerning Episcopacy were drawn
up * after ten of clock at night in a friend's chamber, who pro-
fesses, that sitting by all the while, he remembers not that he
took off pen from paper till he had done; and the very next
morning, it being fully approved by the bishop of Salisbury, he
sent it to the press : to which work he could have no premedita-
tion or second thoughts, he being that very night after supper
employed by the before-mentioned lord bishop of Salisbury, iu>\\
of Winchester 3, on that task. So likewise he began his tract of
Scandal at eleven at night, and finished it before he went to bed.
Nor was this a peculiar or extraordinary thing with him, but
most customary ; five sheets having amidst his other diversions
been sundry times his one day's work ; adding to it so much of
the night as he frequently borrowed from sleep and supper. And
indeed such were his diversions, so many and so importunate,
that notwithstanding this incredible ease of writing, it is hardly
imaginable how he could compass the tithe of what he did. For
he that shall consider his laborious way, immersed in almost infi-
nite quotations, to which the turning over books and consulting
several editions were absolutely needful ; his obligation to read
not only classic authors, but the more recent abortions of the
press, wherein he proved frequently concerned; his perusal of
the writings of his friends and strangers intended to be public ;

1 Were drawn upJ] They consisted of fourteen pages in quarto of close and
small printing.
3 Winchester J] Brian Duppa.

DOCTOR HENRY HAMMOND. 363

his review of his own works, and correcting them with his own
hand sheet by sheet as they came forth, which he did to all his
latter tracts ; his reception of visits, whether of civility, or for
resolution of conscience, or information in points of difficulty,
which were numerous, and great devourers of his time ; his
agency for men of quality, providing them schoolmasters for their
children, and chaplains in their houses, in which affair he had set
up a kind of office of address ; his general correspondencies by
letter, whereof some cost him ten, others twenty, thirty, forty,
nay sixty sheets of paper, and ever took up two days of the week
entirely to themselves ; the time exhausted by his sicknesses,
which in the later years of his life gave him but short and seldom
truce, and always made it necessary for him not to stir from his
chair or so much as read a letter for two hours after every meal,
failance wherein being certainly revenged by a fit of the gout ;
his not only constant preaching and instructing the family where
he was, and his visiting the sick both there and in the neighbour-
hood ; but amidst all, his sure returns of prayer, so frequent and
so constant as certainly to challenge to themselves a great por-
tion of the day : he, I say, that shall compute and sum up this,
the particulars whereof are nakedly set down without any strain-
ing of the truth or flourish of expression, must be to seek what
point of vacant time remained yet undisposed ; I do not say to
write books, but even to breathe and rest a little in.

After a serious reflection on the premises, and full debate
thereon, the account given by that excellent person who had the
happiness of being the nearest and most constant witness of the
before recited severals, seems the best and chiefly satisfactory
that possibly can be made ; that he gained time for his writing
books by the time he spent in prayer, whilst (a more than ordi-
nary assistance attending his devotions) his closet proved his
library, and he studied most upon his knees.

As to his memory, it was serviceable, but not officious ; faith-
ful to things and business, but unwillingly retaining the contex-
ture and punctualities of words : which defect he frequently
lamented, it being harder with him to get one sermon by heart
than to pen twenty.

His way of speech and faculty of communicating notions was
sufficiently happy, having only this best kind of defect, exuberance
and surplusage of plenty, the tide and torrent of his matter being
not easily confined by periods ; whereby his style, though round

364 DOCTOR HENRY HAMMOND.

and comprehensive, was incumbered sometimes by parentheses,
and became difficult to vulgar understandings : but by the use of
writing, and his desire to accommodate himself to all capacities,
he in his latter years had mastered that defect, which was so
slight, that notwithstanding it, he deserved from the most accu-
rate judge and greatest master of English rhetoric which this age
hath given, his late sacred majesty, this character and testimony,
" That he was the most natural orator he ever heard."

His judgment, as in itself the highest faculty, so was it the
most eminent among his natural endowments : for though the
finding out of the similitudes of different things, wherein the
fancy is conversant, is usually a bar to the discerning the dispa-
rities of similar appearances, which is the business of discretion,
and that store of notions which is laid up in memory assists
rather confusion than choice, upon which grounds the greatest
clerks are frequently not the wisest men ; he had, to his sufficient
memory and incomparable invention, a clear and discerning judg-
ment ; and that not only in scholastical affairs and points of
learning, which the arguings, and besides them the designment
of his writings manifest beyond dispute, but in the concerns of
public nature both of church and state, wherein his guess was
usually as near to prophecy as any man's ; as also in the little
mysteries of private manage, by which upon occasion he has un-
ravelled the studied cheats of great artificers in that liberal
science, wherein particularly he vindicated a person of honour
for whom he was entrusted, and assisted frequently his friends in
their domestic intercurrent difficulties.

As to acquired habits and abilities in learning, his writings
having given the world sufficient account of them, there remains
only to observe, that the range and compass of his knowledge
filled the whole circle of the arts, and reached those sevcrals.
which single do exact an entire man unto themselves, and full
age. To be accurate in the grammar and idioms of the tongues,
and then as a rhetorician to make all their graces serve his elo-
quence ; to have traversed ancient, and yet be no stranuvr in
modern writers ; to be studied in philosophy, and familiarly
versed in all the politer classic authors ; to be learned in school-
divinity, and a master in church antiquity. perfect and ready in
the sense of fathers, councils, ecclesiastical historians and lit ur<_
to have devoured so much and yet digested it, is a rarity in nature
and in diligence which has but few examples.

DOCTOR HENRY HAMMOND. 365

But after all we must take leave to say, and do it upon sober
recollection, that the doctor's learning was the least thing in him :
the scholar was here less eminent then the Christian. His specu-
lative knowledge, that gave light to the most dark and difficult
proposals, became eclipsed by the more dazzling lustre of his
practick. In the catalogue of his virtues, his chastity and tempe-
rance may claim the earliest place, as being the sacrists to the
rest, and in him were therefore only not the greatest of his excel-
lencies, because every thing else was so.

And first, his chaste thoughts, words and carriage so disciplined
his lower faculties, as not only restrained through all the heats of
youth, made more than usually importunate by the full vigour
of a high and sanguine constitution, (which his escape he grate-
fully referred unto the only mercy of almighty God,) but gave a
detestation of all those verbal follies, that have not only the allow-
ance of being harmless mirth, but the repute of wit and gaiety of
humour ; so that the scurrilous jest could sooner obtain his tears
in penance for it, than the approbation of a smile ; and all ap-
proaches to this sin he looked upon not only with an utter disal-
lowance in his will, but a kind of natural abhorrence and antipathy
in his lower outward faculties.

In his first remove to Penshurst he was persuaded by his
friends that the matrimonial state was needful to the bearing off
those houshold cares and other intercurrent troubles which his
condition then brought with it ; and on this ground he gave some
ear to their advices : which he did then more readily, for that
there was a person represented to him, of whose virtue, as well as
other more-usually-desired accomplishments, he had been long
before well satisfied. But being hindered several times by little
unexpected accidents, he finally laid down all his pretensions,
upon a ground of perfect self-denial ; being informed that one of
a fairer fortune and higher quality than his was, or else was like
to be, and consequently one who in common account would prove
the better match, had kindness for her. Having thus resolved,
the charity of his mother, who undertook the manage of his
family, became a seasonable assistant and expedient in this single
state ; till after several years her age making those cares too
great a burthen for her shoulders, he again was induced to resume
his thoughts of marriage. But the national disturbances (that
afterwards brake out in war and ruin) appearing then in ferment,
he was again diverted by recollecting the apostle's advice, (1 Cor.

366 DOCTOR HENRY HAMMOND.

vii. 26.) enforced upon his thoughts by the reading of St. Jerom's
epistle to Agereuchia, where after glorious elogies of marriage,
the father concluded in an earnest dehortation from it, upon a
representation of a like face of things ; the Goths then breaking
into Italy, as they before had done into the other near parts of
the Roman empire, and filling all with slaughter, cruelty, and ruin.
Upon which prospect the good doctor casting a serious eye, and
with prophetic sorrows and misgivings fearing a parallel in this
our nation, the second time deposited his conjugal intendments,
and thencefore courted and espoused (what he preserved invio-
late) unto his death, the more eminent perfection of spotless
virgin chastity.

His appetite was good, but the restraint of it was very eminent
and extraordinary ; for his diet was of the plainest meats, and
commonly not only his dishes, but the parts of them were such as
most others would refuse. Sauces he scarce ever tasted of, but
often expressed it his wonder how rational creatures should eat
for any thing but health, since he that did eat or drink that which
might cause a fit of the stone or gout, though a year after, therein
unmanned himself, and acted as a beast. So that his self-denials
were quite contrary to the usual ones ; for considering the time
lost in eating, and the vacancy succeeding it, his meals were the
greatest pressure, and his fasting-day the most sensual part of
his week.

In the time of his full and more vigorous health he seldom did
eat or drink more than once in twenty-four hours, and some fruit
towards night ; and two days in every week, and in Lent and
Ember-week three days, he eat but once in thirty-six. Nor did
he ever with so much regret submit unto any prescript, as whon
his physicians, after his great fever that he had in Oxford,
required him to eat suppers. Which severity of injunction he
soon shook off, and returned to his beloved abstinence, until n-
newed infirmities brought him back unto the penance of more
indulgence to himself.

As he had the greatest indifference to what he eat, so had he
the greatest observation too, especially when it came to be made
point of diet and prescription ; for in this case he was most exact,
never tasting of any prohibited meats, though some of them had
before the advantage of being customary towards their seeming
necessary. And herein his palate was so tractable and subduod
to the dictates of an higher choice, that ho really thought no

DOCTOR HENRY HAMMOND. 367

meat pleasant, but in proportion to its wholesomeness : even his
beloved apples he would oft say he would totally abandon, as soon
as they should appear to be no more than barely innocent, and not
of use. And if by chance or inadvertency he had at any time
tasted of an interdicted dish, as soon as he perceived it, he
discovered a dislike both with himself and what he had been
surprized with.

The carving at the table he always made his province, which
he said he did as a diversion to keep him from eating over-much :
but certainly that practice had another more immediate cause, a
natural distributiveness of humour, and a desire to be employed
in the relief of every kind of want of every person. The report,
and much more the sight, of a luxurious feeder would turn his
stomach, so that he was in more danger to be sick with others1
surfeits than his own ; charity seeming a part of his com-
plexion, while he performed a natural spontaneous penance for
his neighbour's vice, as well as a deliberate one in sorrowing
for it.

His temperance in sleep resembled that of his meats, midnight
being the usual time of his going to rest, and four or five, and
very rarely six, the hour of his rising. There was scarce any
thing he resented so much in his infirmities and multiplied dis-
eases as their having abridged him of his night-studies, professing
thereby he lost not only his greatest pleasure, but highest advan-
tage in reference to business. And in his later time of weakness,
when to take benefit of a gentle breathing sweat, which usually
came in the morning, he had been engaged by his physician to
continue in bed till it was over ; and upon complaint of costive-
ness he was on the other side directed to rise somewhat early in
the morning ; this latter injunction he looked upon as a mere
rescue and deliverance, often mentioning it with thanks, as if it
had been an eminent favour done him.

His disposal of himself in the other parts of time was to per-
petual industry and diligence: he not only avoided, but bore a
perfect hate, and seemed to have a forcible antipathy to idleness,
and scarcely recommended any thing in his advices with that con-
cern and vigour, as to be furnished always with somewhat to do.
This he proposed as the best expedient both for innocence and
pleasure ; assuring that no burthen is more heavy or temptation
more dangerous, than to have time lye on one's hand ; the idle
man's brain being not only (as he worded it) the Devil's shop.

368 DOCTOR HENRY HAMMOND.

but his kingdom too, a model of and an appendage unto hell, a
place given up to torment and to mischief. Besides those portions
of time which the necessities of nature and of civil life extorted
from him, there was not a minute of the day which he left vacant.
When he walked abroad, which he did not so much to recreate
himself, as to obey the prescripts of his physician, he never failed
to take a book with him, and read all the while: and in his
chamber also he had one lay constantly open, out of which his
servant read to him while he was dressing and undressing ; by
which one piece of husbandry in short space he dispatched several
considerable volumes.

His way was still to cast into paper all his observations, and
direct them to his present purposes ; wherein he had an incre-
dible dexterity, scarce ever reading any thing which he did not
make subservient in one kind or other. He was used to say,
" he could not abide to talk with himself,1'' and therefore was so
diligently provided of that which he called " better company."
In his sicknesses, if they were not so violent to make the recol-
lection of thoughts impossible, he never intermitted study, but
rather re-inforced it then as the most appropriate revulsive and
diversion of pain. The gout by its most frequent and importu-
nate returns exceeded his other maladies ; in which although the
first most furious assaults were sure to beat him from his study,
and for a time confine him to his bed, yet as soon as he had reco-
vered his chair, he resumed his pen too, and plyed it as hard as
though he had ailed nothing.

Next to downright idleness he disliked slow and dilatory under-
takings, thinking it a great folly to spend that time in gazing
upon business which should have served for the doing of it. In
his own practice he never considered longer than till he could
discern whether the thing proposed was fit or not : when that
was seen, he immediately set to work. When he had perfected
one business, he could not endure to have his thoughts lie fallow,
but was presently consulting what next to set about.

But when we reckon up and audit the expences of the doctor's
time, we cannot pass his constant tribute of it paid by him to
heaven in the offices of prayer; which took up so liberal propor-
tions of each day unto itself for the ten last years of his life, ,-m<l
probably the preceding. Besides occasional and supernumerary
addresses, his certain perpetual returns exceeded David's seven
times a day. As MM.M .is he was ready (which was usually early)

DOCTOR HENRY HAMMOND. 369

he prayed in his chamber with his servant, in a peculiar form
composed for that purpose. After this he retired to his own more
secret devotions in his closet. Betwixt ten and eleven in the
morning he had a solemn intercession in reference to the national
calamities : to this after a