His Birth.

And First, concerning his Pedigree; which tho' it be obscure, yet it is not altogether so hard to trace it, as to find out the Head of the River Nile. He was born (as I have been inform'd) at Gormanchester near Huntington, his Father a Glover and very poor; yet the meanness of his Birth would have been no Reproach to him, if his own bad Life had not made him more infamous than his Original: For as the [Page 3] ⟨x in y^e title page of [...]is Sermon [...] a fast-day before y^e H. of Com̄ons, (Nov. 17. 1640) He is stiled. Batchelour of in Divinity, Minister of ffinchingfield in Essex⟩Glory of Ancestors is a vain Boast in those whose Actions degenerate from the Nobleness of their Fa­mily, so the mean Descent of those whose Virtues have laid the Foundation of their own Honour, is no disparagement; but where a base and ignoble Extraction, is seconded by a more base and infa­mous Life, it doubles the Ignominy. That this person has more disgrac'd his Family, than their beggarly Condition, will notoriously appear in the following Character; which I dare assure you will find more Credit about Finchingfield, than in re­moter places, where he was known only by the Fame of his Preaching and his Parasites.

How his younger days were spent, I am not able to inform you, as they were more obscure, so 'tis Charity to believe they were harmless; but having got so much Grammar Learning as his po­verty and industry would attain to, he goes to Cambridge, to Emanuel Colledge (that Colledge that hath hatch'd too many such Birds) which he rather visited than continu'd in: For as I have heard, he left it without a Degree, or at most was but Batchelour of Arts, and for his first Preferment, was entertain'd in a Gentleman's House in Suffolk.

Shortly after Mr. Richard Rogers Lecturer at Wethersfield deceases, and Mr. Marshall is chosen his Successor, where they purchase him a Library at the Cost of Fifty pounds, and do many other very friendly Offices for him. He being sensible of their kindness, engages himself by a voluntary Pro­mise never to leave them.

He had not long continued there, before Mr. Pickering (a Reverend and Learned Divine) Mi­nister of Finchingfield dyeth. The Fatness of the Benefice help'd the Patron to Suitors enough; but amongst all, our Marshall was the Man whom his Affection made choice of, to bestow his Pre­sentation upon; who having unluckily married himself to Wethersfield, knows not what course to take to sue out a Bill of Divorce. The great Li­ving (worth 200 l. per annum) is a strong Temp­tation to the Holy Man's concupiscible Appetite, (for tho' our new Saints talk much of Heaven, yet 'tis the Earth they most desire to inherit) how­ever Wethersfield holds him to his promise, Never to leave them. A little Assembly of Divines (as wise almost, and as honest as the great one) is call'd; 'tis there debated how far Mr. Marshall's promise is obligatory. The Casuists knowing his mind before, conclude, that it bound him, not to leave them for a Lesser Salary; but left him at Li­berty to take a Bigger Living when he could get it: and in very deed, there is no reason why any promise, tho' never so solemnly, so deliberately made, should stand a perpetual Palizado to any Godly Man's Preferment. Well, however this Decision satisfies his Corvan: For he leaves We­thersfield, and away he goes to Finchingfield. This is the first noted Essay that he gave of his Fidelity in keeping Promise.

Mr. Marshall's Name is now up, and he may lie in Bed, which he cannot comfortably do without a Bedfellow, who seeks him; not taken with any [Page 5]Comliness of his Person, but ravish'd with the zealous delivery of his Sermons: For whatsoever good his Preaching does upon Mens Souls, it works mightily upon Womens Affections. A Gentle­woman of a considerable Fortune hears him, and con­cludes, that so warm a Preacher, could not choose but make as warm a Husband; whereupon she discovers her Meltings to some of the Sister-hood: They glad to advance their Ghostly Father, pre­sently acquaint him with the Happiness that ga­ped for him. He (a man never slow to do him­self good) accosts her, wooes her in the Lan­guage of Canaan, and at last wins her; For a Ca­stle is never hard to take, where the Gates stand open without a Centinel. But her Friends unwil­ling she should match to nothing but a Stipend, (for I think he was not then removed from Wethers­field) deny consent, unless a Jointure can be made her. What shall the Good Man now do, who was never born to one Acre of Land? Great care is taken; Prayers are put up for the Success of this Match; Endeavours are used; but the obsti­nate Kindred are resolv'd to have a Settlement of an Estate, or else no Match goes forward. And it shall be had rather than Mr. Marshall shall lose his rich Wife. One Wiltshire (whom Mr. Marshall was wont to call Father) will now shew, that it was not in vain, that he own'd him by that Title; and therefore settles an Estate of 30 or 40 l. per annum (as I have heard) upon him and her. This pretence of her Friend's unwillingness was by many suppos'd to be a Plot to get Wiltshir's Estate, who was thought to dote so much up­on [Page 6]Mr. Marshall, that he would do any thing to advance him. However it was wrought, he parts with it, and Mr. Marshall enjoys his Love; but whether she enjoy'd her Love is not altoge­ther so certain: 'Tis a common Complaint, that the Devoutest Preachers are not always the kindest Husbands, nor does the rest of their Con­versation answer that Affection, that they make shew of in a Pulpit. She finds it so.

Truly the Woman, tho' she was not of that politick reach, that some others are of, never wanted Ornaments of a meek and quiet Spirit; but her Simplicity, or something else made her to be slighted, if not scorn'd by him: For af­ter she had made him a Father of one Son and six Daughters, he grows weary of her Bed. (I will not say to go to anothers; tho' to stop the the Mouths of People that began to mutter, he was forced to frequent a Sisters House less than he had been observ'd usually to do before) insomuch that they seldom lay together. And it has been observ'd, that when he had been for many Weeks together absent, and came into the Country to take his Tithes and fresh Air, he chose rather to suck it in at Sculkins, than at the Vicaridge; and to supply the want of his Wife, her Company, he frequently read himself asleep with a Play-Book or Romance.

To his Children he was (to give him his due) a very indulgent Father, and perhaps more in­dulgent than was allowable. The most of their [Page 7]Education was going from one good House to another, to eat Chees-cakes and Custards. They were like Gentlewomen in nothing besides their Habits; and therein they exceeded persons of good Degree and Quality. They followed the height of Fashions with changeable Taffata's, and Naked Necks, insomuch that the Godly Par­ty were sorely scandaliz'd at it; but durst not complain, because it was Mr. Marshall who was concern'd. He gave them great Portions; and (as the History of Independency saith) Married one of them with the Book of Common Prayer, and a Ring; and gave this for a reason, That the Statute establishing that Liturgy was not yet repeal'd; and he was loth to have his Daughter Whored, and turn'd back upon him for want of a Legal Marriage: Nevertheless he could declare against the use of it by others. And so the Jugler plaid at fast and loose with the Service-Book, as he had done before with the People of Wethersfield.

We will view him next in his Pastoral Re­lations; where (to speak the Truth) he was for many years so well beloved of his People, that I think few Ministers could boast of a greater happiness in that kind: being not morose, but of a free and sociable Humour in his Conversation, and in his Preaching very taking with a Country Auditory: For tho' in his Sermons penn'd, there was nothing extraordinary; yet he had such a kind of Delivery, that he carried away the credit from all: besides which I think these may be some causes of his Popularity.

First, (till he began to meddle with State Af­fairs) he always preach'd Catechistical Divinity; (how happy had the man been, if he had never done otherwise?) and that in as plain and fami­liar Expressions as could be, that he might suit himself to the meanest Capacity, and gain the People, which was his great, if not his only aim and ambition.

Secondly, he had an art of commending every thing that he delivered, before he deliver'd it, as being most serious, and of highest Concernment to their Souls; which the people always took up­on his Word. Yea, he would solemnly profess, that what he preach'd to them, he had experience of the work of it upon his own Soul, which con­duced much both to the gaining of Credit to his Doctrine, and to himself.

Thirdly, Whenever he dismiss'd them, before he had finished the Text or point he was upon, 'twas his Custom to assure them, that the best was still behind, which was an invitation to come again and hear the rest.

Fourthly, He was acquainted with all the Vul­gar Proverbs, and odd Country Phrases, and By­words which he would sprinkle up and down in his Sermon; which captivated the People at a strange rate.

Fifthly, He toward his latter end, insisted much upon Notional (which he call'd Spiritual) Divi­nity, [Page 9]and the many Privileges of the Saints; and seldom or never would meddle with particular Sins (unless it were the Sin of MALIGNANCY, or not promoting the PARLIAMENT CAƲSE.) Yea, he has been heard to say, that he durst not preach against their Vices, lest they should be scar'd from his Ministry; (this is much of the same Complexion with the Jesuite's complying Divinity to gain Disciples) but if he could make them in love with Jesus Christ, they would soon grow weary of their Sins: As if any man before he knows the Evil of Sin, would see any need of Christ. Oh wise Master Builder!

Sixthly, He preach'd much abroad, and then had his Agents to give notice ten miles about, when he came to any Lecture; (this is the mode of all the Patriarchs of that Gang, by which they gather more Disciples to themselves than to Jesus Christ.) When he had well heated himself with preaching (which was much to his honour) he had a Sister or two (No Nuns) that waited upon him with Towels and a clean Shirt, which (after they had every where well wip'd him to prevent catching of cold) they put upon him with more Affection, than if it had been a Sur­plice. And having well refreshed himself with some preparatory Caudle, he is ready for his Dinner.

Tho' the Nonconformists counted him theirs, yet all this while he was wary of hazarding his Benefice, by venturing in publick any thing against [Page 10]the Establish't Government or Liturgy: Nay, he was as conformable as could be desired, reading Divine Service, wearing the Surplice, receiving and administring the Sacrament kneeling, appro­ving, commending, extolling Episcopacy and the Liturgy, observing all the Holy-days with more than ordinary Diligence, preaching upon most of them. This the man did, so long as he had any hopes of rising that way: For that his Ambi­tion was such, I have great reason to believe, being assured by a worthy Person, that he was once an earnest Suitor to the late unhappy Duke of Buck­ingham for a Deanry, which is the next step to a Bishoprick. The loss of which (as the same Mis­fortune made Arrius turn Heretick) so it made him turn Schismatick. His Son-in-law Nye was heard to say, That if they had but made his Fa­ther a Bishop, before he had been too far engaged, it might have prevented all the War; and since he cannot rise so high as a Bishop, he will pull the Bi­shops as low as himself; yea, if he can, lower than himself was at Gormanchester. Discontented Pride has made more Schismaticks than Conscience; if this has slain its thousands, that has kill'd its ten thousands.

There wants not a Conspiracy of many Me­diums to assist him in this Design. First, the too many discontented, and upon several occa­sions) dissatisfied Persons in this Nation, every where spurring one the other on, to foment Troubles and Distractions. Then follow'd the Scotish Rebellion, breaking out first at Home, and [Page 11]presently advancing it self into England; which afterward forc'd the Princely Martyr to call that Black Parliament which proved the Ruine of Him, of the Nation, and at last (by the just hand of Providence) of themselves too.

During their Session, an Assembly of Di­vines is called, not chosen by the Clergy accor­ding to Law, but selected by themselves; amongst these our Reverend Marshall (by means of Friends) is preferr'd to be one: He quickly grows to be Master, and is so call'd by all (like the the old Pharisee he affected the Name of Rabbi;) they sit, not to consult for the Reformation of Religion in things that were amiss, but to receive the Par­liaments Commands to undo and innovate Re­ligion. In which Work, or rather Drudgery of the Devil, (falsly styl'd The Cause,) our active Stephen needs neither Whip nor Spur: Tooth and Nail he bends himself to the overthrow of the Hierarchy, Root and Branch. Those few ho­nest men that were chosen either absenting them­selves (because they would not be involv'd in their pernicious and heady Suffrages) or being thrown out by them, they do all their Wicked­neses nemine contradicente, till Independency began to check, and at last Mate-Presbytery. They as­sist to their Power, if not in Voting down the Bishops, yet in keeping them down by their trepanning Covenant, (a Scotish Jig plaid and danc'd by the giddy Brethren in England.) In which I cannot but take notice of their base Hy­pocrisie, in suffering the major part of the Nati­on [Page 12](that bowed to that Dagon) to take it in the plain Grammatical Sense of it; yet to strength­en their Party, giving leave to some more pre­cious and eminent persons to take it in their own Sense. This Falsity God doth judge and will judge.

To Countenance their Proceedings, they con­sult with Foreign Divines of the Presbyterian Churches: as Johanan (Jer. 42.) and the rest con­sulted with Jeremiah concerning their going into Aegypt, resolv'd to follow his Counsel, if it a­greed with theirs, yet to go, tho' God and He said nay; if the advice of those Divines had se­conded their Intentions (which they never que­stioned) they would have heard it, and the World should have heard it. But yet they resolved to take their own Course, tho' Geneva should ad­vise the contrary; as indeed they prudently did, and therefore they bury the Foreign Letters, till time brought them to light by a strange Resur­rection. And that the Foreign Divines might trouble them no more with fresh Letters, they clap them in the Mouth with a Lye, that they intended no harm to regulate Episcopacy, but only to the Lordly and Tyrannical Regiment of it. Let their Actions be heard speaking against them, they do not only uncover the Roof, and take down the Pyramids and Battlements of E­piscopacy; but like the rough Sons of Edom, they raze it even to the Ground; and instead thereof, set up its Rival, the proud, swelling, domineer­ing Faction of Presbytery; which Mushroom-like, [Page 13]suddenly sprang up, and as suddenly disappear­ed, or at best does truckle under its younger Brother Independency. Which our Stephen obser­ving, (and as he could not be the Protomartyr, so he was resolved not to be the Deuteromartyr of that Name) quickly disowns his own sweet Babe, and (with a little of honest Ny's Assistance) puts himself into the thriving Sect of the Inde­pendents, bidding New England welcome into the Old.

And because the Church could not be destroy­ed without the King, who was more firmly wed­ded to it, than Mr. Marshall either to his Wife, or his first Living; the King and all who adhere to him and the Church must be destroyed with it: to whose Ruine Mr. Marshall contributes not a little. Witness Thundrings in all Pulpits; his Cursing all people who were backward in their engaging against him; his encouraging all those, whose Villany made them forward in the Un­dertaking that great Work, warranting them no small Preferment in Heaven, if they would lay down their Lives for the Cause: Witness his Me­naces, and private Incitations, becoming Drum­major, or Chaplain-General to the Army; praying from Regiment to Regiment at Edge-hill.

Witness his riding Post into Scotland, to treat with the Scots, in order to their coming into England; in which business he so demean'd him­self with the Kirk Party, pawning his Soul, and his Brethrens here in England (for a less Pledge [Page 14]would not be taken) in a wicked League for Conformities Sake, that the two Nations might be one in a Religious Conspiracy; that they espouse their Cause, and in it defend their own Guilt, by an Additional Conspiracy with the English Rebels. This Journey, men say, was worth 500 l. to him; I believe more.

Witness his perswading the City to lend the Parliament 50000 l. to pay their Souldiers, who were ready to mutiny in a seasonable time: then perswading the City to let the Army march through them, and possess the Tower. This he did to assure the Independents, that he is really theirs: So he is sent down a Second time into Scotlend, to lye again for his Master's Profit; and thither goes Balaam again for love of the Wa­ges of Unrighteousness. But this Voyage was not so acceptable to the dear Brethren as the former, if all be true that I have heard, viz. that in a Storm it hail'd rotten Eggs upon his Head at Edenburgh: They being cunning Juglers them­selves, soon smelt a Cheat. Besides it is suppo­sed, that tho' he rode Post, some body had out­stript him with Letters, and acquainted the Kirk, that he was become a Changeling and Apostate from Presbytery, then which a greater Crime could not there be charged upon him. So he returns to the Rump, to tell them he lost his Journey.

Having lost his Credit too in London, and his Parish at St. Margarets growing cold in their [Page 15]Affections to him, and his 300 l. per annum for preaching at the Abby failing, he returns to his old forsaken Love (I do not mean his Wife, but) Finchingfield; and there he finds neither the Wel­come nor Respect that he was wont. His Slight­of them had taught them as little to esteem him. They construe his Retreat thither but a forc'd Putt, and say openly, that if he could have bet­ter'd his Maintenance any where else, he would have sold them for two pence profit: and instead of sending Tithes, when demanded, they send him Jeers and Frumps; rate him above what he could make of his Living, over-rule him, who was wont to over-rule all men. His high Stomach not brooking this Carriage, he grows weary there, and waits the next opportunity to be gone, which offers it self thus:

The Lecturer of the great Church in Ipswich dies. He is thither invited by the Town, with this Proviso, if his Conscience could relinquish his present Cure: A Scruple that troubled him not at all; for he had often sear'd his Conscience before with the same Iron. However, being a Man of an affected Gravity, and loth to do any thing lightly or passionately, he therefore pre­tends Reasons to depart from Finchingfield; among which this was the chiefest: He found his Mini­stry ineffectual. Those who were good of Old time were good still; but in his late years teach­ing, he could not find any new Convert.

Truly the People had little reason (I confess) to credit him in any thing, who had so perfidi­ously betray'd their Souls, by leading them in­to Rebellion. But how knew he that none were converted? The Signs of Grace do not al­ways presently appear to the Convert himself, much less are they visible to the view of others. Besides, since God had forsaken his Ministry at Finch­ingfield, what assured hopes had he of doing good at Ipswich? Yet Balaam Saddles his Ass, and will go with the Men; but a few Idolizers of him, first petition him with a Scroll of hands to stay, thinking that horrible darkness must needs over­spread that Horizon, if so great a Luminary should bid a final farewell to it. This will not do; Baal will not hear; next they petition God Al­mighty. A private Fast is appointed to be kept at Mr. Mede's in Finchingfield: Three Ministers carry on the Work of the day. Mr. Daniel Rogers being the Oldest, begins the Devotions; but instead of supplicating for his Stay, he tells God Almighty a very foul Story of his Rambling. I cannot give you the very words, 'tis so long since they were spoken, and I heard them; but as I remember, they were to this purpose, That Mr. Marshall lov'd the Company of great Persona­ges, that he had a gadding Humour, before he had left his Parish to go live at London, and follow the Camp, and would now be gone to Ipswich, &c. You shall not need to wonder at this: For it is verily believed by many, that there was ne­ver any Cordial Affection between these two Grand Schismaticks; one envying another's Po­pularity: [Page 17]For they seldom met, but they hunch't at one another. Once a Dish of Apples being brought before them, and the Company, as eve­ry one liked, preferring one Apple before ano­ther, Mr. Rogers said he lov'd a Living. I think so, quoth Mr. Marshall; for you are always whi­ning for more. And you, says Mr Rogers, love a Runnet, for you can never keep at Home.

But to return from this Digression, neither Pe­titions to Man, nor Prayers to God, will stay him: For he packs up his Tools, and is gone for Ipswich, where he joys not long; for he is fol­lowed with Affliction upon Affliction: Indeed he had lost his Eldest Son before, who was drown'd at Hamburgh, which was a great vexation to him, that his Name should perish. In a short time, he buries three Daughters, and several Grand-Chil­dren, and last of all his Wife, whom he could best have spar'd; (some of his Ipswich Neighbours were bold to interpret these Losses to be the punishment of his deserting Finchingfield) soon after, himself was visited with a Consumption, which ended his Days at London. Of which af­terwards:

His Religion stood most in Externals; a Jew­ish Observation of Sabbaths, Praying, Preach­ing (especially according to the new mode) in Fasts, and Thanksgivings; under these specious shews, the Mistery of Iniquity lay hid. For to what end were their Fasts, but for Strife, and to smite with the Fist of Wickedness, and to break [Page 16] [...] [Page 17] [...] [Page 18]the Strength and Heart of the King? And where­fore were their Thanksgivings, but for Success in Rebellion? Whereas they had more reason to thank God for his Forbearance, that the Earth did not open, and swallow them up quick, as it once did their Fellow-Rebels. But this made a great Noise among the silly People, who saw no farther than a Man may look into a Mill­stone.

His Jureverence about Holy things was abomi­nable, and hardly credible; when he baptized a Child in Private, to sit in a Chair upon his Breech, while he administred that Sacrament. What Su­perstition could equalize that Rudeness? Perhaps he thought the same posture would as well be­come that Sacrament as the other: such doings have brought both into Contempt. Indeed to him and his Brethren, we owe not only the loss of our Government and Liturgy, but of the Sacraments themselves: Baptism having been re­strain'd, and the Lord's Supper in many places disus'd. Mr. Marshall himself having not had a Communion in Finchingfield for seven Years to­gether, which is far worse than Promiscuous Com­munions.

That he was of all Clergy-men, the most mis­chievous to his Sovereign, is without Controver­sie, every where robbing him of the Hearts of his Subjects, creating Jealousies in them, stirring them up to Arms and Contributions of Moneys, engaging all Persons of Quality, whom he had [Page 19]any hopes to work upon: and when he found the man backward, he plays the Devil, tempts the Woman to betray her Husband. He had al­ways a strong influence upon that Sex, and wrought that by their Importunity, which he could not ef­fect by his own reason or perswasions. By this means he became a Murderer, a Murderer of those Souls that he had seduc'd into Rebellion; a Mur­derer of those Bodies which were slain by such as he stirr'd, up to the War; a Murderer of all such as died by the Hands of the Royalists; a Mur­derer of his Prince, by taking away his good Name, by that means rendring him in the esteem of his Subjects, unworthy to govern or live; and this he did not only by his Preaching and private Ca­lumnies; but in those absurd, dins-ingenuous, and malicious Animadversions of his upon the Kings Let­ters taken at Naseby; Letters so full of Modesty, Inge­nuity, Wisdom and Piety, yet if he had not had the Heart of a — very bad man, he would never have so maliciously Commented upon them, and made them speak contrary to their own Grammatical Sense: Letters, that when Malice had done its worst, and its religious Votaries had pick'd out of the Cabinet such as they thought would best serve their turn (suppressing such Papers as might have given all the World satisfaction of his Maje­sties Love to his Subjects and the Protestant Religion,) and had discanted upon those select Papers; yet were so far from prejudicing his Ma­jesty, that they convinc'd thousands of his Inte­grity, who were before doubtful. The worst that could be laid to his Charge, was, that contrary [Page 20]to former Resolutions, he sought help from For­reigners, forc'd thereunto by their implacable Vio­lence. Besides this, he is thought to have instiga­ted them (who were forward enough) to the hastening the King's Death. He has been heard to say, That the King was too wise to be suffer'd to Rule. That he had as live see his own Death, as the King in his Throne. His revengful Spirit could not forget that Affront (as he accounted it) which the King put upon him at Holmby; when being to say Grace for his Majesty, while he was long in forming his Chaps (as his manner was) his Majesty said Grace for himself, and was fallen to his Meat, and had eaten up some part of his Dinner, before his Chaplain had ended his Bles­sing the Creature. The King then checking him, and saying, that he intended not to stay till his Meat was cold, whilst he stood whistling for the Spirit: Which Check never went out of his Sto­mach till it rotted out. That well might one of his own Gang say, He died in time, or else he might have taken a Turn with Hugh Peters at Cha­ring Cross: of which his Arrest at Cambridge was an unlucky Omen, which was a mistake and no mistake. I know, some affirm, that when the King was dead, he was much perplext, and repented of what he had done. For my part, I rather think them transient Pangs and Gripes of Conscience, than true remorse for his publick Sins.

First, because he never publickly recanted.

Secondly, he never labour'd to undeceive those whom he had seduced.

Thirdly, He still joyned himself to his old wick­ed Company, even the King's Murderers.

Lastly, He acted under the Grand Usurper; was as harsh and severe as ever to the King's Par­ty: for he was no less malicious to his Friends all along than to him; always opposing them, if they came to the Assembly for Examination, or after the Tryers at White-hall, (for he was one of those Spa­nish Inquisitors) pretending, forsooth, only Care to advance Godly and able men; and yet could prefer his Son-in-law Nye, to a Living of 400 l. a year, who never deserv'd one of 40 l. I come now to describe his Virtues.

His Charity in giving, was as little as his Chari­ty in forgiving; never so much as bestowing a penny, or piece of Bread at his Door the year throughout, tho' he had many poor Kindred, and some who lived not far from him; yet out of his abundance, never gave them the worth of Twelve pence, as themselves have said. Nay, (when he had the World flowing in upon him) he suffer'd his poor Father to beg about the Country; which shew'd he had neither Shame nor pity, nor yet any Natural Affection.

And tho' men say, the Puritan will not swear, but will lye damnably. This Impostor both swore and ly'd, having several times taken the Oaths of Allegiance, and Canonical Obedience, the Prote­station, and his own Solemn League and Cove­nant; all which for the Glory of God, and undo­ing [Page 22]this Nation, he as solemnly broke and perswa­ded others to break: that if his Soul had not load enough of his own personal Perjuries, he might sink it with the addition of other mens.

Having said this, you shall not need to question his Truth: For verily he was a man that would not deceive him who never trusted him. He is a Ly­ar in Print, of which there needs no other Proof than his own Preaching up of Rebellion for God's Cause, which is a Lye in Text; and what were all his Fasts and Thanksgivings, but Lyes in Hy­pocrisie, lying not only to men, but to the Holy Ghost? At the Funeral of Mr. Borradel Minister of Bumsted in Essex, he had this reach in his praise, That upon his knowledge, he had wept a Bushel (that's a dry measure) of Tears for the Sins of his People. If so, how many Bushels would the rest that he was not privy to have amounted to? Sure Mr. Borradel had a very moist Brain, or Mr. Marshall a slippery Tongue; for certainly without an Hy­perbole of the largest size, this must be a loud one. A Lye not inferiour to this, was that, which he had at the Funeral of Daniel Rogers (where after he had made a Lying Face or two) ‘— Manúque simul veluti Lachrymantia tersit Lumina—’ For not one Tear came; he very gravely told the People (who were no Strangers to Mr. Rogers's Infirmities) He had Grace enough for ten Men, but not for himself: He was, (as I told you) at the Fight [Page 23]at Edge-hill (when he had better have been in his Pulpit at Finching field) very sore distress'd for per­ceiving his side to run, and hearing the Cavaliers cry, Have at the Black-Coats, meaning himself and Mr. Ash, when Mr. Ash complainingly misappli'd that Scripture to the Rebels which was spoken of the People of God, What shall we say when Israel turns his back upon his Enemies? He knew not what to do; at last (if he did not by himself) to save himself, he made use of his Cousin Bass's Man's Device, who threw up his Cap, and cry'd, Hey for King Charles, Hey for King Charles, and un­der the Covert of that Lye, and the Dark, he got by Mid-night to Warwick Castle; But the Fright had such an effect upon him, and made so deep an Impression upon his Spirits, that some stuck not to say, that for the time he was beside his Wits; which he no sooner recover'd, but he comes into Essex to Lye (as a Jack-an-apes does Tricks) for his Master's Advantage. And here he tells the People strange Stories of the Fight (but not a word how va­liantly like Peter the Hermit he ran away) and that to his knowledge (tho' he was in too much haste to tell the Slain) the King's Party lost five to one of the Parliament; which in one sense was true; be­cause one of the King's Party was worth five of them; else 'tis an untruth: For the even Scales of days Fight, was too sad a presage of that lingring which follow'd.

I am now enquiring after his Humility, if I could find it: I see him among his Leathern Doub­lets, and the makers of Leather and Doublets; [Page 24]these he loves by instinct: surely I have found it now. But while I judge him by this Company (whom he makes believe are precious to him) one whispers me in the Ear, and tells me that I take a wrong measure: For these poor Christian's Backs are but Blocks to mount him high in the esteem of the round World. He would have made an excellent Judge; for he was no Respecter of Per­sons. If Knights, or Ladies, or Persons of ever so good Condition, had come where he was sitting, he would neither stir his Breech, nor his Cap; it was condescention enough to give them a gracious Nod with his Head; (for his stiff Neck did not often bend) which Carriage of his, made some of his own Party say in my hearing, That they thought there was not a prouder Parson upon Earth than Mr. Marshall. Mr Symonds will tell you e­nough of this, and how his Pride would not suffer any man to cross his irrational Dictates; and how he treated that Holy and Reverend man the World knows. Tho' I have sometimes heard, that his not answering Mr. Symonds, was because he could not answer; and in such cases he was so wise as to hold his peace: For I remember, when he boasted be­fore Mr. Fuller of Stebbing, That he had brought Burial of the Dead out of Fashion in his Town; Mr. Fuller told him, That their Directory gave leave to exhort at the Grave. His answer was, then may they have a Funeral Sermon who desire it; but when the other reply'd, the Poor would complain, that the Rich should have Christian Burial, and they, because Poor, be bury'd like Dogs. Mr. Marshall's answer was Mum.

And tho' he was a severe Censurer of Bishops and others of the Episcopal Clergy, for medling in Civil Affairs, as excentrick to their Calling; yet himself could make it his business (as well as Nye, Peters, &c.) for seven years together. And tho' he had been an earnest promoter of the King­doms Good, as he was a disturber of the publick peace, yet could he never be able to avoid the re­coil of his own supercilious judging of others. Not that I think the Ecclesiastical Function necessarily deprives his Majesty of the benefit he may have from the prudential abilities of Clergy-men; but I think it wretched impudence in him to charge that as a Crime upon them, who was doubly guilty him­self. First, in medling in the State. Secondly, In medling to do mischief, and (which is no small ag­gravation of his fault) in that he acted the Statist in the Pulpit; where, instead of promoting the Go­spel, he promoted Insurrections. I know, some ask­ing him, what Peace and Satisfaction he had in acting in Secular Affairs? His answer was (tho' not without Stomach to be asked such a question,) that he had always in his Eye the Glory of God; (of which God and the World too now judge) but if you had ask'd the Pope the same question, he would have given you the like answer, viz. In ordine ad Spiritualia. Well, tho' this, and to be bold, two Li­vings be unpardonable Crimes in an Episcopal Di­vine, yet Mr. Marshall's Godliness can qualifie him for both.

His not being scrupulous himself about State af­fairs, made him (perhaps) less solicitous about the Scruples of others in reference to the State: For when some of his Parish (and those none of the [Page 26]meanest) desired his Judgment concerning the ta­king the Engagement, he (Prevaricator-like) rea­son'd pro and con; but would not resolve what was safe for them in point of Conscience, nor what himself had practis'd: for he was loth the World should know, that he had swallowed the Engage­ment, after he had taken the Covenant, which the Hangman hath now burnt.

He was esteem'd a painful Preacher: Himself was wont to compute, from the time that he entred in­to the Ministry, to almost the end of his days, he had preach'd three times a week, setting those weeks wherein he preach'd four times against those wherein he had preach'd but twice. He preach'd indeed often, but not much; he had an art of spreading his Butter very thin; some men in one Sermon having more Pious and profitable Divinity (besides-Learning) than he usually had in four. Besides, as another allay to his painfulness, he often preach'd the same Sermon over and over a­gain; himself has boasted, that he preach'd one Ser­mon (I believe that was Curse ye Meroz,) threescore times: Yea, many of his Sermons cost him no more pains than the transcribing verbatim: And this I can assure you is no Slander.

As to his Learning (tho' he had little Greek, and no Hebrew,) yet he was competently furnish'd with Abilities for a Pastoral Charge in the Country, but no higher; of which himself was conscious: And therefore would never accept any University Pre­ferment (lest he should make himself ridiculous,) nor never Commenced Doctor: Indeed he took the Degree of Batchelor in Divinity per saltum; but it is said his Tutor Dr. Garnons made his Excellent [Page 27]Position, and that somebody else made, or help'd him to make his Clerum. His sitting so long time in the As­sembly had somewhat improv'd his Abilities; and there­fore he was judg'd fit with Mr. Vines to be a disputing Commissioner at Ʋxbridge in the point of Episcopacy. A point which they had canvass'd thred-bare in the Assembly. Indeed they did little else but beat down, and trample upon that Reverend and Apostolick Go­vernment (one Divine in a months time would have done as much as they did in seven years) and to the overthrow of which they had all of them contributed their several Mites, An insignificant Directo­ry, fit to have accompanied the Covenant. They Epito­miz d Bishop usher's Body of Divinity, which they cal­led their larger Catechism; and again epitomiz'd that Epitome, abolishing the an­cient Church Cotehcism: hence so much ignorance in the Fundamentals of Re­ligion, and the ill Conse­quences of that. which these two doughty Champions having budgetted up, carried with them to the Treaty. The Evening be­fore they were to dispute, these two Eves-droppers stole to the Chamber door of the opposite Doctors, where they over-heard them reading over their Argu­ments (this is Mr. Marshall's own Confession, as well as his Boast) which when they had done, they sate up all Night examining their reasons, and preparing answers; of all which helps they had need, having to oppose so good a Cause, and such able Defenders.

And now you have heard of his Learning, take a cast of his Wit: for he was venturous at that sport. But first stop your Nose, because the Jests smell rank. Once this Scoggin requested a Lady, (whose name it is not fit to stain by making it here publick) that he might speak his mind freely to her, which she very innocently granting, the rude Presbyter spoke (like a Pythoniss) from the hollow of his Belly, giving such a burst, as some Beast would do, that had newly eaten [Page 28]green Tares. The same reply he is said to have given another Gentlewoman, asking his Judgment concern­ing the Lord's Prayer. If the other was a clownish af­front, this was unhallow'd prophaneness. And now my hand is in the Honey-pot, take another, (provided that you read not these upon a full Stomach) It once hapned that he took Physick in an House which he much frequented, and at the same time the Mistress of the House also had taken a Purge; and having but one Easement, which stood conveniently between both their Chambers, the Gentlewoman had got possession of it, when Mr. Marshall's Physick began to wring and gripe, and desire a Writ of Ejectment; he therefore calls to his Mistress to make haste, which her own need delaying, she cries out for his patient stay; his reten­tive faculty being almost overcome, he tells her, if she does not give way, he must discharge himself in her Lap; but this being a matter ex officio, out of modesty I shall contract it with an &c. And now I have men­tioned modesty, it puts me in mind of a Sermon that I heard him preach at Saffron Walden about 15 or 16 years ago upon this Text, Hosea 13. v. 12, 13. The Iniquity of Ephraim is bound up, his sin is hid; the sorrows of a travail­ing woman shall come upon him, he is an unwise son, for he should not stay long in the place of the breaking forth of Children. Which Metaphor he did so plainly open, and so closely pursue, and so pertinently apply, that the mo­dest Women hung down their Heads blushing: And some of them in my hearing, said, they never heard such a bawdy Sermon in their lives.

His wit was not without wealth; for by a kind of Omnipotence, he created to himself out of nothing an E­state (as it has been computed) worth 10000 l. and left it to his Children; which is more than one of the last Arch-Bishops of Canterbury, out of his great Revenue [Page 29]had to bequeath to his Relations: Which his Sister Newman took an occasion to note, when at a Meeting, she told a Lady, that the World was well amended with her Brother (who was present) since the time he and she us'd to go a Gleaning together, when he would cudgel her Coat, if she did not ply her business; and thus she was even with him for saying before some Gentleman, that she look'd like a Witch in a Play.

But to let these small things pass, and draw to a Peri­od with my Subject: Honest Stephen, for all his Favour, Wit, Learning, Honour, Cunning, Wealth, must die, die of a Consumption too, who had help'd to consume so much of the Kingdom's Blood and Treasure, and of the Churches Vitals and Beauty. His Sickness was long and tedious, which made him a very Skeleton, and ghast­ly spectacle before his Death. Some report, that like Henderson, he died full of horrour and despair; they that speak most sparingly of him, say, he had not that assurance of his Salvation, that he expected to have had at his Death.

Death and Judgment are solemn things, and give a man a truer, and less flattering view of his actions, than covetous and ambitious Interests will let him see. I presume not to judge his future Estate; to his own Ma­ster he stood or fell: his Conscience being awakened, he might, and so others may find more truth and com­fort in the first sentence of our Liturgy (tho' they call it a Lye) than in all their thin notions of Divinity.

He was of a middle Stature, thick Shouldered, swar­thy Complexion, his Eyes always rowling in his Head. when he talked with any man, he never look'd in his face, but cast them this way and that way, which some interpreted as an argument of a jealous mind and su­spicious of Mischief. His Deportment was clownish, like his Breeding; his Garb slovenly (sometimes preaching [Page 30]without his Cloak) his Gate shackling, and the Furni­ture within not unlike the outside.