THE LIFE OF Dr. Robert Sanderson, LATE Lord Bishop of Lincoln.

DOctor Robert Sanderson, the late learned Bishop of Lincoln, whose Life I intend to write with all truth [Page] and equal plainness, was born the nineteenth day of September, in the year of our Redemption 1587. The place of his birth was Rotheram in the County of York; a Town of good note, and the more for that Thomas Rotheram, sometime Archbishop of that Sea was born in it; a man, whose great wisdom, and boun­ty, and sanctity of life, have made it the more memorable; as in­deed it ought also to be, for be­ing the birth place of our Ro­bert Sanderson. And the Read­er will be of my belief, if this humble Relation of his Life can hold any proportion with his great Piety, his useful Learning, [Page] and his many other extraordina­ry endowments.

He was the second and young­est Son of Robert Sanderson of Gilthwait-hall in the said Parish and County, Esq by Elizabeth one of the Daughters of Richard Carr of Buterthwate-hall, in the Parish of Ecclesfield in the said County of York, Gentleman.

This Robert Sanderson the Fa­ther, was descended from a nu­merous, ancient, and honoura­ble Family of his own Name: for the search of which truth, I refer my Reader, that inclines to it, to Dr. Thoriton's History of the Antiquities of Nottinghamshire, and other Records; not think­ing [Page] it necessary here to ingage him into a search for bare Titles, which are noted to have in them nothing of reality: For Titles not acquir'd, but deriv'd only, do but shew us who of our An­cestors have, and how they have atchiev'd that honour which their Descendants claim, and may not be worthy to enjoy. For if those Titles descend to persons that degenerate into Vice, and break off the conti­nued line of Learning, or Va­lour, or that Vertue that ac­quir'd them, they destroy the very foundation upon which that Honour was built; and all the Rubbish of their Vices ought [Page] to fall heavy on such dishonou­rable Heads; ought to fall so heavy, as to degrade them of their Titles, and blast their Me­mories with reproach and shame.

But our Robert Sanderson li­ved worthy of his Name and Fa­mily: Of which one testimony may be, That Gilbert, call'd the Great Earl of Shrewsbury, thought him not unworthy to be joyn'd with him as a God-father to Gilbert Sheldon, the late Lord Archbishop of Canterbury; to whose Merits and Memory Po­sterity (the Clergy especially) ought to pay a Reverence.

[Page]But I return to my intended Relation of Robert the Son, who began in his Youth to make the Laws of God, and Obedience to his Parents, the rules of his life; seeming even then to dedicate himself, and all his Studies, to Piety and Vertue.

And, as he was inclin'd to this by that native goodness, with which the wise Disposer of all hearts had endow'd his: So this calm, this quiet and happy temper of mind (his being mild, and averse to oppositions) made the whole course of his life easie and grateful both to himself and others: And this blessed temper, was maintain'd [Page] and improv'd by his prudent Fathers good Example, and by frequent conversing with him; and scattering short Apothegms and little pleasant Stories, and making useful applications of them, his Son was in his In­fancy taught to abhor Vanity and Vice as Monsters, and to discern the loveliness of Wis­dom and Vertue; and by these means, and God's concurring Grace, his knowledge was so augmented, and his native good­ness so confirm'd, that all be­came so habitual, as 'twas not easie to determine whether Na­ture or Education were his Teachers.

[Page]And here let me tell the Rea­der, That these early beginnings of Vertue were by God's assisting grace blest with what St. Paul seem'd to beg for his Philippians, namely,Phil. 1.6. That he that had begun a good work in them, would finish it. And Almighty God did: For his whole life was so regular and innocent, that he might have said at his death (and with truth and comfort) what the same St. Paul said after to the same Philippians, Chap. 3.17. when he advis'd them to walk as they had him for an Example.

And this goodness, of which I have spoken, seem'd to increase as his years did; and with his [Page] goodness his learning, the foun­dation of which was laid in the Grammer School of Rotheram (that being one of those three that were founded and liberally endow'd by the said great and good Bishop of that Name.) And in this time of his being a Scholar there, he was observ'd to use an unwearied diligence to attain learning, and to have a seriousness beyond his age, and with it a more than common modesty; and to be of so calm and obliging a behaviour, that the Master and whole number of Scholars lov'd him, as one man.

[Page]And in this love and amity he continued at that School till about the thirteenth year of his age; at which time his Father design'd to improve his Gram­mer learning, by removing him from Rotheram to one of the more noted Schools of Eaton or Westminster: and after a years stay there, then to remove him thence to Oxford. But, as he went with him, he call'd on an old Friend, a Minister of noted learning, and told him his in­tentions; and he, after many questions with his Son, receiv'd such Answers from him, that he assur'd his Father, his Son was so perfect a Grammarian, that [Page] he had laid a good foundation to build any, or all the Arts up­on; and therefore advis'd him to shorten his journey, and leave him at Oxford. And his Father did so.

His father left him there to the sole care and manage of Dr. Kilbie, who was then Rector of Lincoln Colledge: And he, after some time and trial of his man­ners and learning, thought fit to enter him of that Colledge, and after to matriculate him in the University, which he did the first of Iuly 1603. but he was not chosen Fellow till the third of May 1606. at which time he had taken his Degree of Batche­lor [Page] of Arts; at the taking of which Degree, his Tutor told the Rector, That his Pupil Sander­son had a metaphysical brain, and a matchless memory: and that he thought he had improv'd, or made the last so by an Art of his own in­vention. And all the future im­ployments of his life prov'd that his Tutor was not mistaken. I must here stop my Reader, and tell him, that this Dr. Kilbie was a man of so great learning and wisdom, and so excellent a Critick in the Hebrew Tongue, that he was made Professor of it in this University; and was also so perfect a Grecian, that he was by King Iames appointed to be [Page] one of the Translators of the Bible: And that this Doctor and Mr. Sanderson had frequent Discourses, and lov'd as Father and Son. The Doctor was to ride a Journey into Darbyshire, and took Mr. Sanderson to bear him company: and they going together on a Sunday with the Doctor's Friend to that Parish Church where they then were, found the young Preacher to have no more discretion, than to waste a great part of the hour allotted for his Sermon in ex­ceptions against the late Trans­lation of several words (not ex­pecting such a hearer as Dr. Kil­bie) and shew'd three Reasons [Page] why a particular word should have been otherwise translated. When Evening Prayer was end­ed, the Preacher was invited to the Doctor's Friends house; where, after some other Confe­rence, the Doctor told him, He might have preach'd more useful Doctrine, and not fill'd his Audi­tors ears with needless Exceptions against the late Translation; and for that word, for which he offered to that poor Congregation three Rea­sons, why it ought to have been translated, as he said; he and o­thers had considered all them, and found thirteen more considerable Reasons, why it was translated as now printed: and told him, If his [Page] Friend, then attending him, should prove guilty of such indiscre­tion, he should forfeit his favour. To which Mr. Sanderson said, He hop'd he should not. And the Preacher was so ingenious as to say, He would not justifie himself. And so I return to Oxford. In the year 1608. (Iuly the 11th.) Mr. Sanderson was compleated Master of Arts. I am not ig­norant, that for the attaining these Dignities, the time was shorter than was then, or is now required; but either his birth, or the well performance of some extraordinary exercise, or some other merit, made him so: and the Reader is requested to be­lieve [Page] that 'twas the last; and re­quested to believe also, that, if I be mistaken in the time, the Col­ledge Records have mis-inform­ed me: But I hope they have not.

In that year of 1608. he was (November the 7th.) by his Col­ledge chosen Reader of Logick in the House, which he perform­ed so well, that he was chosen a­gain the sixth of November, 1609. In the year 1613. he was chosen Sub-rector of the Colledge, and the like for the year 1614. and chose again to the same Dignity and Trust for the year 1616.

In all which time and im­ployments, his abilities and be­haviour [Page] were such, as procur'd him both love and reverence from the whole Society; there being no exception against him for any faults, but a sorrow for the infirmities of his being too timorous and bashful; both which were, God knows, so connatural, as they never left him. And I know not whether his lovers ought to wish they had; for they prov'd so like the Radical moisture in man's body, that they preserv'd the life of Vertue in his Soul, which by God's assisting grace never left him, till this life put on immor­tality. Of which happy infir­mities (if they may be so [Page] call'd) more hereafter.

In the year 1614. he stood to be elected one of the Proctors for the University. And 'twas not to satisfie any ambition of his own, but to comply with the desire of the Rector and whole Society, of which he was a Mem­ber; who had not had a Pro­ctor chosen out of their Colledge for the space of sixty years (namely, not from the year 1554. unto his standing;) and they perswaded him, that if he would but stand for Proctor, his merits were so generally known, and he so well beloved, that 'twas but appearing, and he would infallibly carry it against any [Page] Opposers; and told him, That he would by that means recover a right or reputation that was seem­ingly dead to his Colledge. By these and other like perswasions he yielded up his own reason to theirs, and appear'd to stand for Proctor. But that Election was carried on by so sudden and se­cret, and by so powerful a Fa­ction, that he mist it. Which when he understood, he profest seriously to his Friends, That if he were troubled at the disappoint­ment, 'twas for theirs, and not for his own sake: For he was far from any desire of such an Imployment, as must be managed with charge and trouble, and was too usually re­warded [Page] with hard censures, or ha­tred, or both.

In the year following he was earnestly perswaded by Dr. Kil­bie and others, to renew the Lo­gick Lectures which he had read some years past in his Colledge: and that done, to methodize and print them, for the ease and pub­lick good of Posterity. But though he had an aversness to appear publickly in print; yet after many serious solicitations, and some second thoughts of his own, he laid aside his modesty, and promised he would; and he did so in that year of 1615. And the Book prov'd, as his Friends seem'd to prophecy, [Page] that is, of great and general use, whether we respect the Art or the Author. For Logick may be said to be an Art of right rea­soning: an Art that undeceives men who take falshood for truth; enables men to pass a true Judg­ment, and detect those fallacies which in some mens Understand­ings usurp the place of right reason. And how great a Master our Author was in this Art, will quickly appear from that clear­ness of method, argument, and demonstration, which is so con­spicuous in all his other Wri­tings. He who had attained to so great a dexterity in the use of reason himself, was best quali­fied [Page] to prescribe rules and di­rections for the instruction of o­thers. And I am the more sa­tisfied of the excellency and use­fulness of this his first publick Undertaking, by hearing that most Tutors in both Universi­ties teach Dr. Sanderson's Lo­gick to their Pupils, as a Foun­dation upon which they are to build their future Studies in Philosophy. And for a further confirmation of my belief, the Reader may note, That since his Book of Logick was first print­ed, there has not been less than ten thousand sold: And that 'tis like to continue both to dis­cover truth, and to clear and [Page] confirm the reason of the unborn World.

It will easily be believed that his former standing for a Pro­ctors place, and being disap­pointed, must prove much dis­pleasing to a man of his great wisdom and modesty, and create in him an aversness to run a se­cond hazard of his credit and content; and yet he was assured by Dr. Kilbie, and the Fellows of his own Colledge, and most of those that had oppos'd him in the former Election, that his Book of Logick had purchas'd for him such a belief of his Learning and Prudence, and his behavi­our at the former Election had [Page] got for him so great and so ge­neral a love, that all his former Opposers repented what they had done; and therefore per­swaded him to venture to stand a second time. And upon these and other like incouragements, he did again, but not without an inward unwillingness, yield up his own reason to theirs, and promis'd to stand. And he did so; and was the tenth of April, 1616. chosen Senior Proctor for the year following, Mr. Charles Crooke of Christ-Church being then chosen the Junior.

In this year of his being Pro­ctor there happened many me­morable accidents; namely, Dr. [Page] Robert Abbot, Master of Balial Colledge, and Regius Professor of Divinity (who being elected or consecrated Bishop of Sarum some months before) was so­lemnly conducted out of Oxford towards his Diocese, by the Heads of all Houses, and the chief of all the University. And Dr. Pridiaux succeeded him in the Professorship, in which he con­tinued till the year 1642. (being then elected Bishop of Worcester) and then our now Proctor Mr. Sanderson succeeded him in the Regius Professorship.

And in this year Dr. Arthur Lake (then Warden of New Colledge) was advanced to the [Page] Bishoprick of Bath and Wells: A man of whom I take my self bound in Justice to say, That he made the great trust committed to him, the chief care and whole business of his life. And one testimony of this truth may be, That he sate usually with his Chancellor in his Consistory, and at least advis'd, if not assist­ed in most sentences for the pu­nishing of such Offenders as de­served Church Censures. And it may be noted, That after a Sentence for Penance was pro­nounced, he did very warily or never allow of any Commutation for the Offence, but did usually see the Sentence for Penance [Page] executed; and then as usually preach'd a Sermon of Mortifica­tion and Repentance, and so apply them to the Offenders, that then stood before him, as begot in them then a devout con­trition, and at least resolutions to amend their lives; and ha­ving done that, he would take them (though never so poor) to dinner with him, and use them friendly, and dismiss them with his blessing, and perswasions to a vertuous life, and beg them to believe him: And his Humility, and Charity, and other Christi­an Excellencies were all like this. Of all which the Reader may inform himself in his Life, truly [Page] writ and printed before his Ser­mons.

And in this year also, the very prudent and very wise Lord Elsmere, who was so very long Lord Chancellor of England, and then of Oxford, resigning up the last, the right Honoura­ble, and as magnificent, William Herbert Earl of Pembroke, was chose to succeed him.

And in this year our late King Charles the First (then Prince of Wales) came honourably at­tended to Oxford; and having deliberately visited the Univer­sity, the Schools, Colledges, and Libraries, He and his At­tendants were entertained with [Page] Ceremonies and Feasting sutable to their Dignity and Merirs.

And this year King Iames sent Letters to the University for the regulating their Studies; espe­cially of the young Divines: Advising they should not rely on modern Sums and Systemes, but study the Fathers and Coun­cils, and the more Primitive Learning. And this advice was occasioned by the indiscreet in­ferences made by very many Preachers out of Mr. Calvin's Doctrine concerning Predestina­tion, Vniversal Redemption, the Irresistibility of God's Grace, and of some other knotty Points depending upon these; Points [Page] which many think were not, but by Interpreters forc'd to be Mr. Calvin's meaning; of the truth or falshood of which, I pretend not to have an ability to judge; my meaning in this Relation be­ing only to acquaint the Reader with the occasion of the King's Letter.

It may be observed, that the various accidents of this year did afford our Proctor large and laudable matter to relate and discourse upon: And, that though his Office seem'd, accord­ing to Statute and Custome, to require him to do so at his lea­ving it; yet he chose rather to pass them over with some very [Page] short Observations, and present the Governours, and his other Hearers, with rules to keep up Discipline and Order in the U­niversity; which at that time was either by defective Statutes, or want of the due execution of those that were good, grown to be extreamly irregular. And in this year also, the Magisterial part of the Proctor requir'd more diligence, and was more difficult to be managed than formerly, by reason of a multi­plicity of new Statutes, which begot much confusion; some of which Statutes were then, and others suddenly after, put into a useful execution. And though [Page] these Statutes were not then made so perfectly useful, as they were design'd, till Archbishop Laud's time (who assisted in the forming and promoting them;) yet our present Proctor made them as effectual as discretion and diligence could do: Of which one Example may seem worthy the noting; namely, That if in his Night-walk he met with irregular Scholars absent from their Colledges at Univer­sity hours, or disordered by drink, or in scandalous compa­ny, he did not use his power of punishing to an extremity; but did usually take their names, and a promise to appear before [Page] him unsent for next morning: And when they did, convinced them with such obligingness, and reason added to it, that they part­ed from him with such resolutions as the man after God's own heart was possess'd with, when he said,Psal. 34.11 There is mercy with thee, and there­fore thou shalt be feared. And by this, and a like behaviour to all men, he was so happy as to lay down this dangerous imploy­ment, as but very few, if any have done, even without an Ene­my.

After his Speech was ended, and he retir'd with a Friend into a convenient privacy; he look'd upon his Friend with a more [Page] than common chearfulness, and spake to him to this purpose. I look back upon my late imployment with some content to my self, and a great thankfulness to Almighty God, that he hath made me of a temper not apt to provoke the mean­est of mankind, but rather to pass by infirmities, if noted; and in this Imployment I have had (God knows) many occasions to do both. And when I consider how many of a contrary temper, are by sudden and small occasions transported and hur­ried by Anger to commit such Errors, as they in that passion could not foresee, and will in their more calm and deliberate thoughts upbraid, and require repentance: And Consider, [Page] that though Repentance secures us from the punishment of any sin, yet how much more comfortable it is to be innocent, than need pardon: And consider, that Errors against men, though pardon'd both by God and them, do yet leave such anxious and upbraiding impressions in the memory, as abates of the Offender's content: When I consider all this, and that God hath of his goodness given me a temper that hath pre­vented me from running into such enormities, I remember my temper with joy and thankfulness.Psal. 1 30. And though I cannot say with David (I wish I could) that therefore his praise shall always be in my mouth; yet I hope, that by his [Page] grace, and that grace seconded by my endeavours, it shall never be blotted out of my memory; and I now beseech Almighty God that it ne­ver may.

And here I must look back, and mention one passage more in his Proctorship, which is; That Gilbert Sheldon, the late Lord Archbishop of Canterbury, was this year sent to Trinity Colledge in that University; and not long after his entrance there, a Letter was sent after him from his God­father (the Father of our Proctor) to let his Son know it, and com­mend his God-son to his ac­quaintance, and to more than a common care of his behaviour; [Page] which prov'd a pleasing injun­ction to our Proctor, who was so gladly obedient to his Fathers desire, that he some few days after sent his Servitor to intreat Mr. Sheldon to his Chamber next morning. But it seems Mr. Sheldon having (like a young man as he was) run into some such irregularity as made him cautious he had transgress'd his Statutes, did therefore appre­hend the Proctor's invitation as an introduction to punishment; the fear of which made his Bed restless that night; but at their meeting the next morning, that fear vanished immediately by the Proctor's chearful countenance, [Page] and the freedom of their dis­course of Friends. And let me tell my Reader, that this first meeting prov'd the beginning of as spirituala friendship as human nature is capable of; of a friend­ship free from all self ends: and it continued to be so, till death forc'd a separation of it on earth; but 'tis now reunited in hea­ven.

And now, having given this account of his behaviour, and the considerable accidents in his Proctorship, I proceed to tell my Reader, that this busie im­ployment being ended, he preach'd his Sermon for his de­gree of Batchelor in Divinity, in [Page] as eligant Latin, and as remark­able for the matter, as hath been preach'd in that University since that day. And having well perform'd his other Exercises for that degree, he took it the nine and twentieth of May following, having been ordain'd Deacon and Priest in the year 1611. by Iohn King, then Bishop of Lon­don, who had not long before been Dean of Christ-Church, and then knew him so well, that he became his most affectionate Friend. And in this year, be­ing then about the 29th. of his Age, he took from the Universi­ty a Licence to preach.

[Page]In the year 1618. he was by Sir Nicholas Sanderson, Lord Viscount Castleton, presented to the Rectory of Wibberton, not far from Boston, in the County of Lincoln, a Living of very good value; but it lay in so low and wet a part of that Countrey, as was inconsistent with his health. And health being (next to a good Conscience) the greatest of God's blessings in this life, and requiring therefore of every man a care and diligence to preserve it, he, apprehending a danger of losing it if he continued at Wib­berton a second Winter, did there­fore resign it back into the hands of his worthy Kinsman and Pa­tron, [Page] about one year after his donation of it to him.

And about this time of his resignation he was presented to the Rectory of Boothby Pannel in the same County of Lincoln; a Town which has been made fa­mous, and must continue to be famous, because Dr. Sanderson, the humble and learned Dr. San­derson, was more than 40 years Parson of Boothby Pannel, and from thence dated all, or most of his matchless Writings.

To this Living (which was of less value, but a purer Air than Wibberton) he was presented by Thomas Harrington of the same County and Parish, Esq who [Page] was a Gentleman of a very an­cient Family, and of great use and esteem in his Countrey du­ring his whole life. And in this Boothby Pannel the meek and cha­ritable Dr. Sanderson and his Pa­tron liv'd with an endearing, mutual, and comfortable friend­ship, till the death of the last put a period to it.

About the time that he was made Parson of Boothby Pannel, he resign'd his Fellowship of Lincoln Colledge unto the then Rector and Fellows: And his resignation is recorded in these words: ‘Ego Robertus Sanderson per, &c.’

[Page]I Robert Sanderson, Fellow of the Colledge of St. Maries and All-Saints, commonly call'd Lin­coln Colledge, in the University of Oxford, do freely and willingly resign into the hands of the Rector and fellows, all the Right and Ti­tle that I have in the said Colledge, wishing to them and their Succes­sors, all peace, and piety, and happiness, in the Name of the Fa­ther, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.

May 6. 1619

Robert Sanderson.

[Page]And not long after this re­signation, he was by the then Bishop of York, or the King, Sede vacante, made Prebend of the Collegiate Church of South­well in that Diocese; and short­ly after of Lincoln by the Bishop of that See.

And being now resolv'd to set down his rest in a quiet privacy at Boothby Pannel, and looking back with some sadness upon his removal from his general Ac­quaintance left in Oxford, and the peculiar pleasures of a Univer­sity life; he could not but think the want of Society would ren­der this of a Countrey Parson the more uncomfortable, by rea­son [Page] of that want of conversation; and therefore he did put on some saint purposes to marry. For he had considered, that though marriage be cumbred with more worldly care than a single life; yet a complying and prudent Wife changes those very cares into so mutual a content, as makes them become like the Suf­ferings of St. Paul, Colos. 1.24. which he would not have wanted, because they occasioned his rejoycing in them. And he having well considered this, and observ'd the secret un­utterable joys that Children be­get in Parents, and the mutual pleasures and contented trouble of their daily care and constant [Page] endeavours to bring up those little Images of themselves so, as to make them as happy as all those cares and endeavours can make them: He having consi­dered all this, the hopes of such happiness turn'd his faint pur­pose into a positive resolution to marry. And he was so happy as to obtain Anne, the daughter of Henry Nelson Batchelor in Di­vinity, then Rector of Haugham in the County of Lincoln (a man of noted worth and learning.) And the Giver of all good things was so good to him, as to give him such a Wife as was sutable to his own desires; a Wife, that made his life happy by being al­ways [Page] content when he was chear­ful; that divided her joys with him, and abated of his sorrow, by bearing a part of that bur­then; a Wife, that demonstrated her affection by a chearful obe­dience to all his desires, during the whole course of his life; and at his death too, for she out­liv'd him.

And in this Boothby Pannel he either found or made his Pa­rishioners peaceable, and com­plying with him in the decent and regular service of God. And thus his Parish, his Patron, and he liv'd together in a religious love, and a contented quietness. He not troubling their thoughts [Page] by preaching high and useless notions, but such plain truths as were necessary to be known, believed, and practised, in or­der to their salvation. And their assent to what he taught was testified by such a confor­mity to his Doctrine, as decla­red they believ'd and lov'd him. For he would often say, That without the last, the most evident truths (heard as from an enemy, or an evil liver) either are not, or are at least the less effectual; and do usually rather harden, than con­vince the hearer.

And this excellent man did not think his duty discharged by only reading the Church [Page] Prayers, Catechizing, Preach­ing, and administring the Sacra­ments seasonably; but thought (if the Law or the Canons may seem to injoyn no more, yet) that God would require more than the defective Laws of man's making, can or does injoyn; the performance of that inward Law, which Almighty God hath im­printed in the Conscience of all good Christians, and inclines those whom he loves to perform. He considering this, did therefore become a law to himself, practi­cing what his Conscience told him was his duty, in reconciling differences, and preventing Law­suits, both in his Parish and in [Page] the Neighbourhood. To which may be added his often visiting sick and disconsolate Families, perswading them to patience, and raising them from dejection and his advice and chearful dis­course, and by adding his own Alms, if there were any so poor as to need it; considering how acceptable it is to Almighty God, when we do as we are advis'd by St. Paul, help to bear one anothers burthen, Ga. 6.2. either of sorrow or want: and what a comfort it will be, when the Searcher of all hearts shall call us to a strict account for that evil we have done, and the good we have omitted, to re­member we have comforted and [Page] been helpful to a dejected or di­stressed Family.

And that his practice was to do good, one Example may be, That he met with a poor dejected Neighbour that complain'd he had taken a Meadow, the Rent of which was 9 l. a year; and when the Hay was made ready to be carried into his Barn, several days constant rain had so raised the water, that a sudden Flood carried all away, and his rich Landlord would bate him no rent; and that unless he had half abated, he and seven children were utterly undone. It may be noted, That in this Age there are a sort of people so unlike the God [Page] of mercy, so void of the bowels of pity, that they love only them­selves and children; love them so, as not to be concern'd, whether the rest of mankind waste their days in sorrow or shame; Peo­ple that are curst with riches, and a mistake that nothing but riches can make them and theirs hap­py. But 'twas not so with Dr. Sanderson; for he was concern'd, and spoke comfortably to the poor dejected man; bade him go home and pray, and not load himself with sorrow, for he would go to his Landlord next morn­ing, and if his Landlord would not abate what he desired, he and a Friend would pay it for him.

[Page]To the Landlord he went the next day; and in a conference, the Doctor presented to him the sad condition of his poor deject­ed Tenant; telling him how much God is pleas'd when men com­passionate the poor: and told him, That though God loves Sa­crifice, yet he loves Mercy so much better, that he is pleas'd when call'd the God of mercy. And told him, the riches he was possest of were given him by that God of mercy, who would not be pleas'd, if he that had so much given, yea, and forgiven him too, should prove like the rich Steward in the Gospel, that took his fellow servant by the throat to make him pay the [Page] utmost farthing. This he told him. And told him, That the Law of this Nation (by which Law he claims his Rent) does not undertake to make men honest or merciful; but does what it can to restrain men from being dishonest or unmer­ciful, and yet was defective in both: and that taking a­ny Rent from his poor Te­nant, for what God suffered him not to enjoy, though the Law allowed him to do so, yet if he did so, he was too like that rich Steward which he had mentioned to him; and told him that riches so gotten, and added to his great [Page] Estate, would, as Iob says, prove like gravel in his teeth, would in time so corrode his Conscience, or become so nauseous when he lay upon his Death-bed, that he would then labour to vomit it up, and not be able: and there­fore advis'd him, being very rich, to make Friends of his unrighteous Mammon, before that evil day come upon him: But however, neither for his own sake, nor for God's sake, to take any Rent of his poor dejected sad Tenant, for that were to gain a temporal, and lose his eternal happiness. These and other such reasons, were urg'd with so grave and so com­passionate an earnestness, that the [Page] Landlord forgave his Tenant the whole Rent.

The Reader will easily believe that Dr. Sanderson, who was him­self so meek & merciful, did sud­denly and gladly carry this com­fortable news to the dejected Te­nant; and will believe, that at the telling of it there was a mu­tual rejoycing. 'Twas one of Iob's boasts,Iob 31. That he had seen none perish for want of clothing: and that he had often made the heart of the widow to rejoyce. And doubtless Dr. Sanderson might have made the same religious boast of this, and very many like occasions. But since he did not, I rejoyce that I have this just occasion to [Page] do it for him; and that I can tell the Reader, I might tire my self and him in telling how like the whole course of Dr. Sander­son's life was to this which I have now related.

Thus he went on in an ob­scure and quiet privacy, doing good daily both by word and by deed, as often as any occasion offer'd it self; yet not so obscure­ly, but that his very great learn­ing, prudence, and piety were much noted and valued by the Bishop of his Diocese, and by most of the Nobility and Gen­trey of that Country. By the first of which he was often summon'd to preach many Visitation Ser­mons, [Page] and by the latter at many Assizes. Which Sermons, though they were much esteemed by them that procur'd and were fit to judge them; yet they were the less valued, because he read them, which he was forc'd to do; for though he had an extraordi­nary memory (even the Art of it) yet he had such an inmate, in­vincible fear and bashfulness, that his memory was wholly use­less, as to the repetition of his Sermons as he had writ them, which gave occasion to say, when they were first printed and ex­pos'd to censure (which was in the year 1632) That the best Ser­mons that were ever read, were never preach'd.

[Page]In this contented obscurity he continued, till the learned and good Archbishop Laud, who knew him well in Oxford (for he was his contemporary there told the King ('twas the knowing and conscientious King Charles the I.) that there was one Mr. Sanderson, an obscure Countrey Minister, that was of such sincerity, and so excellent in all Casuistical learn­ing, that he desir'd his Majesty would make him his Chaplain. The King granted it most wil­lingly, & gave the Bishop charge to hasten it, for he long'd, to dis­course with a man that had dedi­cated his Studies to that useful part of learning. The Bishop for­got [Page] not the King's desire, and Mr. Sanderson was made his Chaplain in Ordinary in November follow­ing, 1631. And when they became known to each other, the King did put many Cases of Consci­ence to him, and receiv'd from him such deliberate, safe, and clear solutions, as gave him great content in conversing with him: so that at the end of his months attendance, the King told him, He should long for the next Novem­ber; for he resolv'd to have a more inward acquaintance with him, when that month and he return'd. And when the month and he did re­turn, the good King was never absent from his Sermons, and [Page] would usually say, I carry my ears to hear other Preachers, but I carry my conscience to hear Mr. San­derson, and to act accordingly. And this ought not to be con­ceal'd from Posterity, That the King thought what he spake: For he took him to be his Advi­ser in that quiet part of his life, and he prov'd to be his Comfor­ter in those days of his affliction, when he apprehended himself to be in danger of Death or Depo­sing. Of which more hereafter.

In the first Parliament of this good King (which was 1625.) he was chosen to be a Clerk of the Convocation for the Diocese of Lincoln, which I here mention, [Page] because about that time did a­rise many disputes about Prede­stination, and the many Critical Points that depend upon, or are interwoven in it; occasioned, as was said, by a disquisition of new Principles of Mr. Calvin's (though others say they were before his time.) But of these Dr. Sanderson then drew up for his own satis­faction such a Scheme (he call'd it Pax Ecclesia) as then gave him­self, and hath since given others such satisfaction, that it still re­mains to be of great estimation among the most learned. He was also chosen Clerk of all the Con­vocations during that good Kings reign. Which I here tell my [Page] Reader, because I shall hereafter have occasion to mention that Convocation in 1640. the unhap­py long Parliament, and some de­bates of the Predestination Points, as they have been since charitably handled betwixt him, the learned Dr. Hammond, and Dr. Pierce, the now reverend Dean of Salisbury.

In the year 1636. his Majesty then in his Progress took a fair occasion to visit Oxford, and to take an entertainment for two days for himself and honourable Attendants, which the Reader ought to believe was sutable to their dignities: But this is men­tioned, because at the King's [Page] coming thither Dr. Sanderson did attend him, and was then (the 31 of August) created Doctor of Divinity; which honour had an addition to it, by having many of the Nobility of this Nation then made Doctors and Masters of Art with him: Some of whose names shall be recorded and live with his (and none shall out-live it.) First Dr. Curle and Dr. Wren, who were then Bishops of Winton and of Norwich (and had formerly taken their degrees in Cambridge) were with him created Doctors of Divinity in his University. So was Merick the Son of the learn­ed Izaak Causabon; and Prince Rupert (who still lives) the then [Page] Duke of Lenox, Earl of Hereford, Earl of Essex, of Barkshire, and very many others of noble birth (too many to be named) were then created Masters of Arts.

Some years before the unhap­py long Parliament, this Nation being then happy and in peace (though inwardly sick of being well) namely in the year 1639. a discontented party of the Scots Church were zealously restless for another Reformation of their Kirk Government; and to that end created a new Covenant, for the general taking of which they pretended to petition the King for his assent, and that he would injoyn the taking of it by all of [Page] that Nation: but this Petition was not to be presenred to him by a Committee of eight or ten men of their Fraternity, but by so many thousands, and they so arm'd, as seem'd to force an assent to what they seem'd to request; so that though forbidden by the King, yet they entred England, and in their heat of Zeal took and plunder'd New-Castle, where the King was forc'd to meet them with an Army; but upon a Trea­ty and some concessions, he sent them back (though not so rich as they intended, yet) for that time without blood-shed: But oh, this Peace and this Cove­nant were but the forerunners of [Page] War and the many miseries that followed: For in the year fol­lowing there were so many cho­sen into the long Parliament, that were of a conjunct Council with these very zealous, and as facti­ous Reformes, as begot such a confusion by the several desires and designs in many of the Mem­bers of that Parliament, and at last in the very common people of this Nation, that they were so lost by contrary designs, fears and confusions, as to believe the Scots and their Covenant would restore them to their former tran­quillity. And to that end the Presbyterian party of this Nati­on did again, in the year 1643. [Page] invite the Scotch Covenanters back into England: and hither they came marching with it glo­riously upon their Pikes, and in their Hats, with this Motto, For the Crown and Covenant of both Kingdoms. This I saw, and suffer'd by it. But when I look back upon the ruine of Families, the bloodshed, the decay of common honesty, and how the former piety and plain dealing of this now sinful Nation is turned into cruelty and cunning, I praise God that he prevented me from being of that party which help'd to bring in this Covenant, and those sad Confusions that have follow'd it, And I have been the [Page] bolder to say this of my self, be­cause in a sad discourse with Dr. Sanderson I heard him make the like grateful acknowledgement.

This digression is intended for the better information of the Reader in what will follow con­cerning Dr. Sanderson. And first, That the Covenanters of this Na­tion, and their party in Parlia­ment, made many Exceptions a­gainst the Common Prayer and Ceremonies of the Church, and seem'd restless for a Reformati­on: And though their desires seem'd not reasonable to the King and the learned Dr. Laud, then Archbishop of Canterbury; yet to quiet their Consciences, and pre­vent [Page] future confusion, they did in the year 1641. desire Dr. Sanderson to call two more of the Convocation to advise with him, and that he would then draw up some such safe alterations as he thought fit in the Service Book, and abate some of the Ceremo­nies that were least material, for satisfying their consciences; and to this end they did meet toge­ther privately twice a week at the Dean of Westminster's House (for the space of 3 months or more.) But not long after that time, when Dr. Sanderson had made the Reformation ready for a view, the Church and State were both fall'n into such a confusion, that [Page] Dr. Sanderson's Model for Refor­mation became then useless. Ne­vertheless, his Reputation was such, that he was in the year 1642. propos'd by both Houses of Parliament to the King then in Oxford, to be one of their Tru­stees for the settling of Church affairs, and was allowed of by the King to be so; but that Treaty came to nothing.

In the year 1643. the 2 Hou­ses of Parliament took upon them to make an Ordinance, and call an Assembly of Divines, to de­bate and settle some Church con­troversies (of which many were very unfit to judges:) in which Dr. Sanderson was also named; [Page] but did not appear, I suppose for the same reason that many other worthy and learned men did forbear, the Summons wanting the King's Authority. And here I must look back and tell the Rea­der, that in the year 1642. he was (Iuly 21.) named by a more un­doubted Authority to a more no­ble imployment, which was to be Professor Regius of Divinity in Ox­ford; but though knowledge be said to puff up, yet his modesty and too mean an opinion of his great Abilities, and some other real or pretended reasons (exprest in his Speech, when he first appear­ed in the Chair, and since print­ed) kept him from entring into it till Octobor 1646.

[Page]He did for about a years time continue to read his matchless Lectures, which were first de Iu­ramento, a Point very difficult, and at that time very dangerous to be handled as it ought to be. But this learned man, as he was eminently furnished with Abili­ties to satisfie the consciences of men upon that important Sub­ject; so he wanted not courage to assert the true obligation of Oaths in a degenerate Age, when men had made perjury a main part of their Religion. How much the learned world stands obliged to him for these and his following Lectures de Conscientia, I shall not attempt to declare, as being very [Page] sensible, that the best Pens must needs fall short in the commen­dation of them : So that I shall only add, That they continue to this day, and will do for ever, as a compleat standard for the re­solution of the most material doubts in Casuistical Divinity. And therefore I proceed to tell the Reader, That about the time of his reading those Lectures (the King being then Prisoner in the Isle of Wight) the Parliament had sent the Covenant, the Nega­tive Oath, and I know not what more, to be taken by the Doctor of the Chair, and all Heads of Houses: and all other inferiour Scholars of what degree soever, [Page] were all to take these Oaths by a six­ed day, and those that did not, to abandon their Colledge and the University too, within 24 hours after the beating of a Drum; for if they remain'd longer, they were to be proceeded against as Spies.

Dr. Laud then Archbishop of Canterbury, the Earl of Strafford, and many others, had been for­merly murthered by this wicked Parliament, but the King yet was not; and the University had yet some faint hopes that in a Trea­ty then in being, or pretended to be suddenly, there might be such an Agreement made between King and Parliament, that the dissenters in the University might [Page] both preserve their Consciences and Subsistance which they then enjoyed by their Colledges.

And being possess'd of this mi­staken hope, That the Parliament were not yet grown so merciless as not to allow manifest reason for their not submitting to the enjoyn'd Oaths, the University appointed twenty Delegates to meet, consider, and draw up a Manifesto to the Parliament, why they could not take those Oaths but by violation of their Con­sciences: And of these Delegates Dr. Sheldon (late Archbishop of Canterbury Dr. Hammond, Dr. Sanderson, Dr. Morley (now Bi­shop of Winchester) and that most [Page] honest, and as judicious Civil Lawyer, Dr. Zouch, were a part, the rest I cannot now name; but the whole number of the Dele­gates requested Dr. Zouch to draw up the Law part, and give it to Dr. Sanderson, and he was requested to methodize and add what referr'd to reason and con­science, and put it into form: He yielded to their desires, and did so. And then after they had been read in a full Convocation, and allow'd of, they were print­ed in Latin, that the Parliaments proceedings and the Universities sufferings might he manifested to all Nations; and the Imposers of these Oaths might repent, or [Page] answer them: But they were past the first; and for the latter, I might swear they neither can, nor ever will. And these rea­sons were also suddenly turn'd into English by Dr. Sanderson, that those of these three Kingdoms might the better judge of the Loyal Parties sufferings.

About this time the Indepen­dants (who were then grown to be the most powerful part of the Army) had taken the King from a close to a more large im­prisonment, and by their own pretences to liberty of Conscience, were obliged to allow somewhat of that to the King, who had in the year 1646. sent for Dr. San­derson [Page] Dr. Hammond, Dr. Sheldon (the late Archbishop of Canter­bury) and Dr. Morley (the now Bishop of Winchester) to attend him, in order to advise with them, how far he might with a good Conscience comply with the Pro­posals of the Parliament for a Peace in Church and State; but these having been then denied him by the Presbyterian Parlia­ment, were now allow'd him by those in present power. And as those other Divines, so Dr. San­derson gave his attendance on his Majesty also in the Isle of Wight, preach'd there before him, and had in that attendance many, both publick and private Confe­rences [Page] with him, to his Majesties great satisfaction. At which time he desir'd Dr. Sanderson, that be­ing the Parliament had propos'd to him the abolishing of Episco­pal Government in the Church, as inconsistent with Monarchy, that he would consider of it, and declare his judgment: He under­took to do so, and did it; but it might not be printed till our King's happy Restoration, and then it was. And at Dr. Sander­son's taking his leave of his Ma­jesty in this last attendance on him, the King requested him to betake himself to the writing Cases of Conscience for the good of Poste­rity. To which his answer was, [Page] That he was now grown old, and un­fit to write Cases of Conscience. But the King was so bold with him, as to say, It was the simplest an­swer be ever heard from Dr. San­derson; for no young man was fit to be a Judge, or write Cases of Conscience. And let me here take occasion to tell the Reader this truth, not commonly known, that in one of these Conferences this conscientious King told Dr. Sanderson, or one of them that then waited with him, That the remembrance of two Erro [...] did much afflict him, which were, his assent to the Earl of Strafford's death, and the abolishing Episcopacy in Scotland; and that if God ever [Page] restored him to be in a peaceable possession of his Crown, he would de­monstrate his Repentance by a pub­lick Confession and a voluntary Pe­nance (I think barefoot) from the Tower of London, or Whitehall, to St. Paul's Church, and desire the people to intercede with God for his pardon. I am sure one of them told it me, lives still, and will witness it. And it ought to be observ'd, that Dr. Sanderson's Le­ctures de Juramento were so ap­prov'd and valu'd by the King, that in this time of his imprison­ment and solitude, he translated them into exact English, desiring Dr. Iuxson (then Bishop of Lon­don) Dr. Hammond, and Sir Tho­mas [Page] Herbert (who then attended him) to compare them with the Original. The last still lives, and has declared it, with some other of that King's excellencies, in a Letter under his own hand, which was lately shew'd me by Sir Wil­liam Dugdale, King at Arms. The Book was design'd to be put into the King's Library at St Iames's, but I doubt not now to be found there. I thought the honour of the Author and the Translator to be both so much concern'd in this Relation, that it ought not to be conceal'd from the Reader, and 'tis therefore here inserted.

I now return to Dr. Sanderson in the Chair in Oxford, where they [Page] that comply'd not in taking the Covenant, Negative Oath, and Par­liament Ordinance for Church Dis­cipline and Worship, were under a sad and daily apprehension of Expulsion; for the Visiters were daily expected, and both City and University full of Souldiers, and a party of Presbyterian Divines, that were as greedy and ready to possess, as the ignorant and ill­natur'd Visiters were to eject the dissenters out of their Colledges and Livelyhoods: But notwith­standing Dr. Sanderson did still continue to read his Lecture, and did to the very faces of those Presbyterian Divines and Soul­diers, read with so much reason, [Page] and with a calm fortitude make such applications, as if they were not, they ought to have been a­sham'd, and beg'd pardon of God and him, and forborn to do what follow'd. But these thriving sinners were hardned; and as the Visiters expel'd the Orthodox, they, without scruple or shame, possest themselves of their Col­ledges; so that with the rest, Dr. Sanderson was (in Iune 1648.) forc'd to pack up and be gone, and thank God he was not im­prison'd, as Dr. Sheldon, Dr. Ham­mond, and others then were.

I must now again look back to Oxford, and tell my Reader, that the year before this expulsion, [Page] when the University had deny'd this Subscription, & apprehend­ed the danger of that Visitation which followed, they sent Dr. Morley, then Canon of Christ-Church (now Lord Bishop of Winchester) and others, to petition the Parliament for recalling the Injunction, or a mitigation of it, or accept of their Reasons why they could not take the Oaths injoyn'd them; and the Petition was by Parliament referr'd to a Committee to hear and report the Reasons to the House, and a day set for hearing them. This done, Dr. Morley and the rest went to inform and fee Counsel, to plead their Cause on the day [Page] appointed: but there had been so many committed for pleading, that none durst undertake it; for at this time the Priviledges of that Parliament were become a Noli me tangere, as sacred and useful to them, as Traditions e­ver were, or are now to the Church of Rome, their number must never be known, and there­fore not without danger to be meddled with. For which Rea­son Dr. Morley was forc'd, for want of Counsel, to plead the U­niversities Reasons for not com­plyance with the Parliaments in­junctions; and though this was done with great reason, and a boldness equal to the Justice of [Page] his Cause; yet the effect of it was, but that he and the rest appear­ing with him were so fortu­nate, as to return to Oxford with­out commitment. This was some few days before the Visiters and more Soldiers were sent down to drive the Dissenters out of the U­niversity. And one that was at this time of Dr. Morley's pleading a powerful man in the Parlia­ment, and of that Committee, ob­serving Dr. Morley's behaviour and reason, and inquiring of him, and hearing a good report of his Morals, was therefore willing to afford him a peculiar favour; and that he might express it, sent for me that relate this Story, and [Page] knew Dr. Morley well, and told me, He had such a love for Dr. Mor­ley, that knowing he would not take the Oaths, and must therefore be e­jected his Colledge, and leave Ox­ford, he desired I would therefore write to him to ride out of Oxford when the Visiters came into it, and not return till they left it, and he should be sure then to return in safety; and that he should without taking any Oath or other molestation, enjoy his Canons place in his Colledge. I did receive this intended kindness with a sudden gladness, because I was sure the party had a power, and as sure he meant to perform it, and did therefore write the Doctor word; and his Answer [Page] was, That I must not fail to return my Friend (who still lives) his humble and undissembled thanks, though he could not accept of his intended kindness; for when the Dean, Dr. Gardner, Dr. Paine, Dr. Hammond, Dr. Sanderson, and all the rest of the Colledge, were turn'd out, except Dr. Wall, he should take it to be, if not a sin, yet a shame to be left behind with him only. Dr. Wall I knew, and will speak no­thing of him, for he is dead.

It may be easily imagined, with what a joyful willingness these self-loving Reformers took pos­session of all vacant preferments, and with what reluctance others parted with their beloved Col­ledges [Page] and Subsistance: but their Consciences were dearer than their Subsistance, and out they went; the Reformers possessing them without shame or scruple, where I will leave these Scruple­mongers, and make an account of the then present affairs of London, to be the next imployment of my Readers patience.

And in London all the Bi­shops Houses were turn'd to be Prisons, and they fill'd with Di­vines, that would not take the Covenant, or forbear reading Common Prayer, or that were accus'd for some faults like these. For it may be noted, That about this time the Parliament set out [Page] a Proclamation to incourage all Lay-men that had occasion to complain of their Ministers for being troublesome or scandalous, or that conformed not to Or­ders of Parliament, to make their complaint to a Committee for that purpose; and the Minister, though 100 miles from London, should appear there and give sa­tisfaction, or be sequestred; (and you may be sure no Pa­rish could want a covetous, or malicious, or cross-grain'd com­plainant:) by which means all Prisons in London, and in some other places, became the sad habitations of Conforming Di­vines.

[Page]And about this time the Bi­shop of Canterbury having been by an unknown Law condemned to die, and the execution suspend­ed for some days, many of the malicious Citizens fearing his pardon, shut up their Shops, pro­fessing not to open them till Ju­stice was executed. This malice and madness is scarce credible, but I saw it.

The Bishops had been voted out of the House of Parliament, & some upon that occasion sent to the Tower, which made many Co­venanters rejoyce, and believe Mr. Brightman (who probably was a a good and well meaning man) to be inspir'd in this Comment on [Page] the Apocalyps, an Abridgment of which was now printed, and cal'd Mr. Brightman's Revelation of the Revelation. And though he was grosly mistaken in other things, yet; because he had made the Churches of Geneva and Scotland, which had no Bishops, to be Phi­ladelphia in the Apocalyps, the An­gel that God loved; and the pow­er of Prelacy to be Antichrist, the evil Angel, which the House of Commons had now so spued up, as never to recover their dignity: Therefore did those Co­venanters approve and applaud Mr. Brightman for discovering and foretelling the Bishops downfall; so that they both rail'd [Page] at them, and rejoyc'd to buy good pennyworths of their Land, which their Friends of the House of Commons, did afford them as a reward of their diligent assi­stance to pull them down.

And the Bishops power be­ing now vacated, the common people were made so happy, as every Parish might choose their own Minister, and tell him when he did, and when he did not preach true Doctrine: and by this and like means several Churches had several Teachers, that pray'd and preach'd for and against one another; and in­gag'd their hearers to contend furiously for truths which they [Page] understood not; some of which I shall mention in the discourse that follows.

I have heard of two men that in their discourse undertook to give a character of a third per­son; and one concluded he was a very honest man, for he was be­holding to him; and the other that he was not, for he was not behold­en to him. And something like this was in the designs both of the Covenanters and Indepen­dants (the last of which were now grown both as numerous and as powerful as the former:) for though they differed much in many Principles, and preach'd against each other, one making it [Page] a sign of being in the state of grace, if we were but zealous for the Covenant: and the other, that we ought to buy and sell by a Measure, and to allow the same liberty of Conscience to others, which we by Scripture claim to our selves; and therefore not to force any to swear the Cove­nant contrary to their Conscien­ces, and loose both their Livings and Liberties too. Though these differed thus in their conclusi­ons, yet they both agreed in their practice to preach down Common Prayer, and get into the best se­questred Livings; and whatever became of the true Owners, their Wives and Children, yet to con­tinue [Page] in them without the least scruple of Conscience.

They also made other strange Observations of Election, Reproba­tion, and Free-will, and the other Points dependent upon these; such as the wisest of the common people were not fit to judge of: I am sure I am not; though I must mention some of them hi­storically in a more proper place, when I have brought my Reader with me to Dr. Sander­son at Boothby Pannel.

And in the way thither I must tell him, That a very Covenanter and a Scot too, that came into England with this unhappy Co­venant, was got into a good se­questred [Page] Living by the help of a Presbyterian Parish, which had got the true Owner out. And this Scotch Presbyterian being well settled in this good Living, began to reform the Church-yard, by cutting down a large Ewe Tree, and some other Trees that were an ornament to the place, and ve­ry often a shelter to the Parishi­oners; who excepting against him for so doing, were answered, That the Trees were his, and 'twas lawful for every man to use his own as he, and not as they thought fit. I have hear'd (but do not affirm it) That no Action lies against him that is so wicked as to steal the winding sheet of a dead bo­dy [Page] after 'tis buried; and have heard the reason to be, because none were supposed to be so void of humanity, and that such a Law would vilifie that Nation that would but suppose so vile a man to be born in it: nor would one suppose any man to do what this Covenanter did. And whe­ther there were any Law against, him I know not; but pity the Parish the less for turning out their legal Minister.

We have now overtaken Dr. Sanderson at Boothby Parish, where he hop'd to have enjoy'd himself, though in a poor, yet in a quiet and desir'd privacy; but it prov'd otherwise: For all cor­ners [Page] of the Nation were fill'd with Covenanters, Confusion, Comittee-men and Soldiers, ser­ving each other to their several ends, of revenge, or power, or profit; and these Committee­men and Soldiers were most of them so possest with this Cove­nant, that they became like those that were infected with that dreadful Plague of Athens; the Plague of which Plague was, that they by it became maliciously restless to get into company, and to joy (so the HistorianTheucidi­des. saith) when they had infected others, even those of their most beloved or nearest Friends or Relations; and though there might be some [Page] of these Covenanters that were beguil'd, and meant well; yet such were the generality of them, and temper of the times, that you may be sure Dr. Sanderson, who though quiet and harmless, yet an eminent dissenter from them, could not live peaceably; nor did he: For the Soldiers would ap­pear, and visibly disturb him in the Church when he read Pray­ers, pretending to advise him how God was to be serv'd most acceptably: which he not ap­proving, but continuing to ob­serve order and decent behaviour in reading the Church Service, they forc'd his Book from him, and tore it, expecting extempo­rary Prayers.

[Page]At this time he was advis'd by a Parliament man of power and note, that lov'd and valued him much, not to be strict in reading all the Common Prayer, but make some little variation, especially if the Soldiers came to watch him; for then it might not be in the power of him and his o­ther Friends to secure him from taking the Covenant, or Seque­stration: for which Reasons he did vary somewhat from the strict Rules of the Rubrick. I will set down the very words of Confession which he us'd, as I have it under his own hand; and tell the Reader that all his other variations were as little, & much like to this.

[Page]His Confession.

[Page]In these disturbances of tear­ing his Service Book, a Neigh­bour came on a Sunday, after the Evening Service was ended, to visit and condole with him for the affront offered by the Soldi­ers. To whom he spake with a composed patience, and said; God hath restored me to my desir'd privacy, with my wife and children, where I hop'd to have met with quietness, and it proves not so; but I will labour to be pleas'd, because God, on whom I depend, sees 'tis not fit for me to be quiet. I praise him, that he hath by his grace prevented me from making shipwrack of a good Conscience to maintain me in a place of great reputation and profit: and [Page] though my condition be such, that I need the last; yet I submit, for God did not send me into this world to do my own, but suffer his will, and I will obey it. Thus by a sublime depending on his wise, and pow­erful, and pitiful Creator, he did chearfully submit to what God had appointed, justifying the truth of that Doctrine which he had preach'd.

About this time that excellent Book of the King's Meditations in his Solitude was printed, and made publick: and Dr. Sanderson was such a lover of the Author, and so desirous that the whole world should see the character of him in that Book, and something of [Page] the cause for which they suffer'd, that he design'd to turn it into Latin: but when he had done half of it most excellently, his Friend Dr. Earle prevented him, by appearing to have done the whole very well before him.

About this time his dear and most intimate Friend, the learn­ed Dr. Hammond, came to enjoy a conversation and rest with him for some days, and did so. And having formerly perswaded him to trust his excellent memory, and not read, but try to speak a Sermon as he had writ it. Dr. Sanderson became so complyant as to promise he would. And to that end they two went early the [Page] Sunday following to a Neighbour Minister, and requested to ex­change a Sermon; and they did so. And at Dr. Sanderson's go­ing into the Pulpit, he gave his Sermon (which was a very short one) into the hand of Dr. Ham­mond, intending to preach it as 'twas writ; but before he had preach'd a third part, Dr. Ham­mond (looking on his Sermon as written) observed him to be out, and so lost as to the matter, that he also became afraid for him; for 'twas discernable to many of the plain Auditory: But when he had ended this short Sermon, as they two walk'd homeward, Dr. Sanderson said with much [Page] earnestness, Good Doctor give me my Sermon, and know, that neither you, nor any man living shall ever perswade me to preach again without my Books. To which the reply was, Good Doctor be not angry; for if I ever perswade you to preach again without Book, I will give you leave to burn all those that I am Master of.

Part of the occasion of Dr. Hammond's visit was at this time, to discourse Dr. Sanderson about some Opinions, in which, if they did not then, they had doubtless differed formerly; 'twas about those knotty Points, which are by the Learned call'd the Quinquar­ticular Controversie; of which I [Page] shall proceed, not to give any Judgment (I pretend not to that) but some short Historical account which shall follow.

There had been, since the un­happy Covenant was brought, and so generally taken in Eng­land, a liberty given or taken by many Preachers (those of London especially) to preach and be too positive in the Points of Vniver­sal Redemption, Predestination, and those other depending upon these. Some of which preach'd, That all men were, before they came into this world, so predestinated to salvation or damnation, that 'twas not in their power to sin so, as to lose the first, nor by their most diligent [Page] endeavour to avoid the latter. O­thers, That 'twas not so; because then God could not be said to grieve for the death of a sinner, when he himself had made him so by an ine­vitable decree, before he had so much as a being in this world; affirm­ing therefore, that man had some power left him to do the will of God, because he was advised to work out his salvation with fear and trem­bling; maintaining, that 'tis most certain, every man can do what he can to be saved; and that he that does what he can to be saved, shall never be damned: And yet many that affirmed this, would confess, That that grace, which is but a per­swasive offer, and left to us to receive [Page] or refuse, is not that grace which shall bring men to heaven. Which truths, or untruths, or both, be they which they will, did upon these or the like occasions come to be searched into, and charita­bly debated betwixt Dr. Sander­son, Dr. Hammond, and Dr. Pierce (the now Reverend Dean of Sa­lisbury) of which I shall proceed to give some account, but briefly.

In the year 1648. the 52 Lon­don Ministers (then a Fraternity of Ston Colledge in that City) had in a printed Declaration aspers'd Dr. Hammond most heinously, for that he had in his Practical Cate­chism affirm'd, That our Saviour died for the sins of all mankind. To [Page] jnstifie which truth, he presently makes a charitable Reply (as 'tis now printed in his Works.) After which there were many Letters past betwixt the said Dr. Hammond, Dr. Sanderson, and Dr. Pierce, concerning God's grace and decrees. Dr. Sanderson was with much unwillingness drawn into this Debate; for he declared it would prove uneasie to him, who in his judgment of God's decrees differ'd with Dr. Ham­mond (whom he reverenced and loved dearly) and would not therefore ingage him into a Con­troversie, of which he could ne­ver hope to see an end: but they did all enter into a charitable dis­quisition [Page] of these said Points in several Letters, to the full satis­faction of the Learned; those betwixt Dr. Sanderson and Dr. Hammond being printed in his Works; and for what past be­twixt him and the Learned Dr. Pierce, I refer my Reader to a Letter annext to the end of this Relation.

I think the Judgment of Dr. Sanderson was by these Debates altered from what it was at his entrance into them; for in the year 1632. when his excellent Sermons were first printed in 4^o. the Reader may on the Margent find some accusation of Arminius for false Doctrine; and find, that [Page] upon a review and reprinting those Sermons in folio in the year 1657. that accusation of Armini­us is omitted. And the change of his judgment seems more fully to appear in his said Letter to Dr. Pierce. And let me now tell the Reader, which may seem to be perplex'd with these several affir­mations of God's decrees before mentioned, that Dr. Hammond, in a Postscript to the last Letter of Dr. Sanderson's, says, God can reconcile his own contradictions, and therefore advises all men, as the A­postle does, to study mortification, and be wise to sobriety. And let me add further, that if these 52 Ministers of Sion Colledge were the occasion [Page] of the Debates in these Letters; they have, I think, been the oc­casion of giving an end to the Quinquarticular Controversie, for none have since undertaken to say more; but seem to be so wise, as to be content to be ignorant of the rest, till they come to that place, where the secrets of all hearts shall be laid open. And let me here tell the Reader also, that if the rest of mankind would, as Dr. Sanderson, not conceal their alteration of Judgment, but con­fess it to the honour of God and themselves, then our Nation would become freer from perti­nacious Disputes, and fuller of Recantations.

[Page]I cannot lead my Reader to Dr. Hammond and Dr. Sanderson where we left them at Boothby Pannel, till I have look'd back to the long Parliament, the Society of Covenanters in Sion Colledge, and those others scattered up and down in London, and given some account of their proceedings and usage of the late learned Dr. Laud, then Archbishop of Canterbury. And though I will forbear to mention the injustice of his death, and the barbarous usage of him, both then and before it; yet my desire is, that what fol­lows may be noted, because it does now, or may hereafter con­cern us, namely, That in his last [Page] sad Sermon on the Scaffold at his death, he having freely pardon­ed all his Enemies, and humbly begg'd of God to Pardon them, and besought those present to pardon and pray for him; yet he seem'd to accuse the Magi­strates of the City, for suffering a sort of wretched people, that could not known why he was con­demned, to go visibly up and down to gather hands to a Peti­tion, That the Parliament would hasten his Execution. And having declar'd how unjustly he thought himself to be condemned, and accus'd for endeavouring to bring in Popery (for that was one of the Accusations for which he [Page] died) he declar'd with sadness, That the several Sects and Divisions then in England (which he had laboured to prevent) were like to bring the Pope a far greater harvest, than he could ever have expected without them. And said, these Sects and Divisions introduce prophane­ness under the cloak of an imagina­ry Religion; and that we have lost the substance of Religion by changing it into Opinion; and that by these means this Church, which all the Iesuits machinations could not ru­ine, was fall'n into apparent danger by those which were his Accusers. To this purpose he spoke at his death: for this, & more of which, the Reader may view his last sad [Page] Sermon on the Scaffold. And 'tis here mentioned, because his dear Friend Dr. Sanderson seems to demonstrate the same in his two large and remarkable Pre­faces before his two Volumes of Sermons; and seems also with much sorrow to say the same a­gain in his last Will, made when he apprehended himself to be very near his death. And these Covenanters ought to take notice of it, and to remember, that by the late wicked War began by them, Dr. Sanderson was ejected out of the Professors Chair in Ox­ford; and that if he had conti­nued in it (for he lived 14 years after) both the Learned of this [Page] and other Nations, had been made happy by many remarka­ble Cases of Conscience, so ration­ally stated, and so briefly, so clearly, and so convincingly de­termin'd, that Posterity might have joyed and boasted, that Dr. Sanderson was born in this Nati­on, for the ease and benefit of all the Learned that shall be born after him: But this benefit is so like time past, that they are both irrecoverably lost.

I should now return to Booth­by Pannel where we left Dr. Ham­mond and Dr. Sanderson together, but neither can be found there. For the first was in his Journey to London, and the second seiz'd [Page] upon the day after his Friends departure, and carried Prisoner to Lincoln, then a Garison of the Parliaments. For the pretended reason of which Commitment, I shall give this following ac­count.

There was one Mr. Clarke, the Minister of Alington, a Town not many miles from Boothby Pannel, who was an active man for the Parliament and Covenant; one that, when Belvoire Castle (then a Garison for the Parliament) was taken by a party of the King's Soldiers, was taken in it, & made a Prisoner of War in Newark, then a Garison of the Kings; a man so active and useful for his [Page] party, that they became so much concern'd for his inlargement, that the Committee of Lincoln sent a Troop of Horse to seize and bring Dr. Sanderson a Prisoner to that Garison; and they did so. And there he had the happiness to meet with many, that knew him so well as to treat him kind­ly; but told him, He must conti­nue their Prisoner, till he should pur­chase his own inlargement by procu­ring an Exchange for Mr. Clarke then Prisoner in the King's Garison of Newark. There were many Reasons given by the Doctor of the Injustice of his Imprison­ment, and the Inequality of the Exchange, but all were unef­fectual: [Page] For done it must be, or he continue a Prisoner. And in time done it was upon the following Conditions.

First, that Dr. Sanderson and Mr. Clarke being Exchanged, should live undisturb'd at their own Parishes; and of either were injur'd by the Soldiers of the contrary party, the other having notice of it, should procure him a Redress, by having satisfaction made for his loss, or for any o­ther injury; or if not, he to be us'd in the same kind by the o­ther party. Nevertheless, Dr. Sanderson could neither live safe, nor quietly, being several times plundered, and once wounded in [Page] three places; but he, apprehend­ing the remedy might turn to a more intolerable burthen by im­patience or complying, forbore both; and possess'd his Soul in a contented quietness, without the least repining. But though he could not enjoy the safety he expected by this Exchange, yet by his Providence that can bring good out of evil, it turn'd so much to his advantage, that whereas his Living had been sequestred from the year 1644. and continued to be so till this time of his Imprisonment, he, by the Articles of War in this Exchange for Mr. Clarke, pro­cur'd his Sequestration to be re­call'd, [Page] and by that means injoy'd a poor but contented subsistence for himself, wife, and children, till the happy Restoration of our King and Church.

In this time of his poor, but contented privacy of life, his Ca­suistical learning, peaceful mo­deration and sincerity, became so remarkable, that there were many that apply'd themselves to him for Resolution in Cases of Conscience; some known to him, many not; some requiring satis­faction by Conference, others by Letters; so many, that his life became almost as restless as their minds; yet he denied no man: And if it be a truth which holy [Page] Mr. Herbert says, That all world­ly joys seem less, when compared with shewing mercy or doing kindnesses; then doubtless Dr. Sanderson might have boasted for relieving so ma­ny restless and wounded Con­sciences; which, as Solomon says, are a burthen that none can bear, though their fortitude may su­stain their other Infirmities: and if words cannot express the joy of a Conscience relieved from such restless Agonies; then Dr. Sander­son might rejoyce, that so many were by him so clearly and con­scientiously satisfied; for he de­nied none, and would often praise God for that ability, and as of­ten for the occasion, and that [Page] God had inclin'd his heart to do it, to the meanest of any of those poor, but precious Souls, for which his Saviour vouchsafed to be crucified.

Some of those very many Ca­ses that were resolved by Letters, have been preserv'd and printed for the benefit of Posterity; as namely,

• 1. Of the Sabbath.
• 2. Marrying with a Recusant.
• 3. Of unlawful Love.
• 4. Of a Military life.
• 5. Of Scandal.
• 6. Of a Bond taken in the King's Name.
• 7. Of the Ingagement.
• 8. Of a rash Vow.

[Page] But many more remain in pri­vate hands, of which one is of Symony; and I wish the World might see it, that it might unde­ceive some Patrons, who think they have discharg'd that great and dangerous trust, both to God and man, if they take no money for a Living, though it may be parted with for other ends less justifiable.

And in this time of his retire­ment, when the common people were amaz'd & grown giddy by the many falshoods and misap­plications of Truths frequently vented in Sermons; when they wrested the Scripture by chal­lenging God to be of their par­ty, [Page] and call'd upon him in their prayers to patronize their Sacri­ledge & zealous Frenzies, in this time he did so compassionate the generality of this misled Nation, that though the times threatned danger, yet he then hazarded his safety by writing the large and bold Preface now extant before his last 20 Sermons (first printed in the year 1655.) In which there was such strength of reason, with so powerful and clear convincing applications made to the Non-conformists, as being read by one of those dissenting Brethren, who was possess'd with such a spirit of contradiction, as being neither able to defend his error, nor yield [Page] to truth manifest (his Conscience having slept long and quietly in a good sequestred Living) was yet at the reading of it so awa­kened, that after a conflict with the reason he had met, and the dammage he was to sustain if he consented to it (and being still unwilling to be so convinced, as to lose by being over-reason'd) he went in haste to the Bookseller of whom 'twas bought, threatned him, and told him in anger, he had sold a Book in which there was false Divinity; and that the Preface had upbraided the Parliament, and many godly Ministers of that party for un­just dealing. To which his Reply was ('twas Tim. Garthwaite) That [Page]'twas not his Trade to judge of true or false Divinity, but to print and sell Books; and yet if he, or any friend of his would write an Answer to it, and own it by setting his Name to it, he would print the Answer, and promote the selling of it.

About the time of his printing this excellent Preface, I met him accidentally in London in sad-co­loured clothes, and God knows, far from being costly: the place of our meeting was near to little Britain, where he had been to buy a Book, which he then had in his hand; we had no inclination to part presently; and therefore turn'd to stand in a corner under a Penthouse (for it began to rain) [Page] and immediately the wind rose, and the rain increased so much, that both became so inconveni­ent, as to force us into a cleanly house, where we had Bread, Cheese, Ale, & a Fire for our money. This rain and wind were so obliging to me, as to force our stay there for at least an hour, to my great con­tent and advantage; for in that time he made to me many useful observations with much clear­ness and conscientious freedom. I shall relate a part of them, in hope they may also turn to the advantage of my Reader. He seem'd to lament, that the Parlia­ment had taken upon them to a­bolish our Liturgy, to the scan­dal [Page] of so many devout and learn­ed men, and the disgrace of those many Martyrs, who had seal'd the truth and use of it with their blood: and that no Minister was now thought godly that did not decry it; and, at least, pretend to make better Prayers ex tempore: and that they, and only they that could do so, prayed by the Spi­rit, and were godly; though in their Sermons they disputed, and evidently contradicted each o­ther in their Prayers. And as he did dislike this, so he did most highly commend the Common Prayer of the Church, saying, The Collects were the most passionate, pro­per, and most elegant expressions [Page] that any language ever afforded; and that there was in them such pie­ty, and that so interwoven with in­structions, that they taught us to know the power, the wisdom, the ma­jesty, and mercy of God, and much of our duty both to him and our Neigh­bour; and that a Congregation beha­ving hemselves reverently, & putting up to God these joynt and known de­sires for pardon of sins, and praises for mercies receiv'd, could not but be more pleasing to God, than those raw unpre­meditated expressions, to which many of the hearers could not say Amen.

And he then commended to me the frequent use of the Psalter or Psalms of David; speaking to this purpose, That they were the [Page] Treasury of Christian Comfort, fitted for all persons and all necessities; able to raise the soul from dejection by the frequent mention of God's mercies to repentant sinners; to stir up holy de­sires; to increase joy; to moderate sorrow; to nourish hope, and teach us patience, by waiting God's leasure; to beget a trust in the mercy, power, & providence of our Creator; & to cause a resignation of our selves to his will; & then (and not till then) to believe our selves happy. This he said the Liturgy and Psalms taught us; and that by the frequent use of the last they would not only prove to be our souls comfort, but would be­come so habitual, as to transform them into the image of his soul [Page] that composed them. After this manner he express'd himself con­cerning the Liturgy & Psalms; & seem'd to lament that this, which was the Devotion of the more Primitive times, should in com­mon Pulpits be turn'd into need­less debates about Free-will, Ele­ction, and Reprobation, of which, and many like Questions, we may be safely ignorant, because Al­mighty God intends not to lead us to Heaven by hard Questions, but by meekness and charity, and a frequent practice of Devotion.

And he seem'd to lament very much, that by the means of ir­regular and indiscreet preach­ing, the generality of the Nation [Page] were possess'd with such danger­ous mistakes, as to think, They might be religious first, and then just and merciful; that they might sell their Consciences, and yet have some­thing left that was worth keeping; that they might be sure they were e­lected, though their lives were visi­bly scandalous; that to be cunning was to be wise; that to be rich was to be happy, though their wealth was got without justice or mercy; that to be busie in things they understood not, was no sin. These, and the like mistakes he lamented much, and besought God to remove them, and restore us to that humility, sincerity, and singleheartedness, with which this Nation was blest, [Page] before the unhappy Covenant was brought into the Nation, and every man preach'd and pray'd what seem'd best in his own eyes. And he then said to me, That the way to restore this Nation to a more meek and Christian temper, was to have the Body of Divinity (or so much of it as was needful to be known) to be put into 52 Homilies or Ser­mons, of such a length as not to ex­ceed a third or fourth part of an hours reading; and these needful Points to be made so clear and plain, that those of a mean capacity might know what was necessary to be believed, and what God requires to be done; and then some applications of trial and conviction: and these to be read [Page] every Sunday of the year, as infalli­bly as the blood circulates the body; and then as certainly begun again, and continued the year following: and that this being done, it might pro­bably abate the inordinate desire of knowing what we need not, and pra­ctising what we know, and ought to do. This was the earnest desire of this prudent man. And, O that Dr. Sanderson had underta­ken it! for then in all probabi­lity it would have prov'd effe­ctual.

At this happy time of in­joying his company and this dis­course, he express'd a sorrow by saying to me, O that I had gone Chaplain to that excellently accom­plish'd [Page] Gentleman, your Friend, Sir Henry Wootton! which was once intended, when he first went Ambas­sador to the State of Venice: for by that imployment I had been forc'd into a necessity of conversing, not with him only, but with several men of several Nations; and might thereby have kept my self from my unmanly bashfulness, which has prov'd very troublesome, and not less inconveni­ent to me; and which I now fear is become so habitual as never to leave me: and by that means I might also have known, or at least have had the satisfaction of seeing one of the late miracles of general learning, pru­dence, and modesty, Sir Henry Woottons dear Friend, Padre [Page] Paulo, who, the Author of his life says, was born with a bashfulness as invincible, as I have found my own to be: A man whose fame must never die, till vertue and learning shall become so useless as not to be regarded.

This was a part of the benefit I then had by that hours conver­sation: and I gladly remember and mention it, as an Argument of my happiness, and his great humility and condescention. I had also a like advantage by ano­ther happy conference with him, which I am desirous to impart in this place to the Reader. He la­mented much, that in many Pa­rishes, where the maintenance was [Page] not great, there was no Minister to officiate; and that many of the best sequestred Livings were possess'd with such rigid Cove­nanters as denied the Sacrament to their Parishioners, unless upon such conditions, and in such a manner as they could not take it. This he mentioned with much sorrow, saying, The blessed Sacra­ment did, by way of preparation for it, give occasion to all conscientious Receivers to examine the perform­ance of their Vows, since they received their last seal for the pardon of their sins past; and to examine and re­search their hearts, and make peni­tent reflexions on their failings; and that done, to bewail them, and then [Page] make new vows or resolutions to obey all God's Commands, and beg his grace to perform them. And this done,the Sacrament repairs the de­cays of grace, helps us to conquer in­firmities, gives us grace to beg God's grace, and then gives us what we beg; makes us still hunger and thirst after his righteousness, which we then receive, and being assisted with our endeavours, will still so dwell in us, as to become our satisfaction in this life, and our comfort on our last Sick-beds. The want of this blessed benefit he lamented much, and pitied their condition that desi­red, but could not obtain it.

I hope I shall not disoblige my Reader, if I here inlarge into [Page] a further Character of his person and temper. As first, That he was moderately tall; his behaviour had in it much of a plain com­liness, and very little (yet e­nough) of ceremony or court­ship; his looks and motion ma­nifested affability and mildness, and yet he had with these a calm, but so matchless a fortitude, as secur'd him from complying with any of those many Parlia­ment injunctions, that interfer'd with a doubtful conscience. His Learning was methodical and exact; his wisdome useful; his integrity visible; and his whole life so unspotted, that all ought to be preserved as Copies for Po­sterity [Page] to write after; the Cler­gy especially, who with impure hands ought not to offer Sacri­fice to that God, whose pure eyes abhorr iniquity.

There was in his Sermons no improper Rhetorick, nor such perplex'd divisions, as may be said to be like too much light, that so dazles the eyes that the sight becomes less perfect: But there was therein no want of use­ful matter, nor waste of words; and yet such clear distinctions as dispel'd all confus'd Notions, and made his hearers depart both wiser, and more confirm'd in vertuous resolutions.

His memory was so matchless [Page] and firm, as 'twas only overcome by his bashfulness; for he alone, or to a friend, could repeat all the Odes of Horace, all Tully's Offi­ces, and much of Iuvenal and Persius without Book; and would say, The repetition of one of the Odes of Horace to himself was to him such musick, as a Lesson on the Viol was to others, when they play'd it to themselves or friends. And though he was blest with a clear­er Judgment than other men; yet he was so distrustful of it, that he did over-consider of conse­quences, and would so delay and reconsider what to determine, that though none ever determin'd better, yet, when the Bell toll'd [Page] for him to appear and read his Divinity Lectures in Oxford, and all the Scholars attended to hear him, he had not then, or not till then, resolv'd and writ what he meant to determine; so that that appear'd to be a truth, which his old dear Friend Dr. Sheldon would often say, namely, That his judg­ment was so much superiour to his phancy, that whatsoever this suggest­ed, that dislik'd and controul'd; still considering and reconsidering, till his time was so wasted, that he was forc'd to write, not (probably) what was best, but what he thought last. And yet what he did then read, ap­pear'd to all hearers to be so useful, clear, and satisfactory, as [Page] none ever determin'd with great­er applause. These tiring and perplexing thoughts begot in him an aversness to enter into the toyl of considering and deter­mining all Casuistical Points; be­cause during that time, they nei­ther gave rest to his body or mind. But though he would not be always loden with these knot­ty Points and Distinctions; yet the study of old Records, Genealo­gies, and Heraldry, were a recrea­tion, and so pleasing, that he would say they gave rest to his mind. Of the last of which I have seen two remarkable Vo­lumes; and the Reader needs neither to doubt their truth or exactness.

[Page]And this humble man had so conquer'd all repining and am­bitious thoughts, and with them all other unruly passions, that, if the accidents of the day prov'd to his danger or dammage, yet he both began and ended it with an even and undisturbed quietness: always praising God that he had not withdrawn food and raiment from him and his poor Family; nor suffered him to violate his Conscience for his safety, or to support himself or them in a more splendid or plentiful con­dition; and that he therefore re­solv'd with David, That his praise should be always in his mouth.

I have taken a content in gi­ving [Page] my Reader this Character of his person, his temper, and some of the accidents of his life past; and more might be added of all: But I will with sorrow look forward to the sad days, in which so many good men suffer­ed, about the year 1658. at which time Dr. Sanderson was in a very low condition as to his Estate: And in that time Mr. Robert Boyle (a Gentleman of a very Noble Birth, and more eminent for his Liberality, Learning, and Ver­tue, and of whom I would say much more, but that he still lives) having casually met with, and read his Lectures de Iuramento, to his great satisfaction, and being [Page] informed of Dr. Sanderson's great innocence and sincerity, and that he and his Family were brought into a low condition by his not complying with the Par­liaments injunctions, sent him by his dear Friend Dr. Barlow (the now learned Bishop of Lincoln) 50 l. and with it a request and promise: The request was, That he would review the Lectures de Conscientia, which he had read when he was Doctor of the Chair in Oxford, and print them for the good of Posterity; (and this Dr. Sanderson did in the year 1659.) And the Promise was, That he would pay him that, or a greater sum if desir'd, during his Life, to [Page] inable him to pay an Amanuensis, to ease him from the trouble of writing what he should conceive or dictate. For the more parti­cular account of which, I refer my Reader to a Letter writ by the said Dr. Barlow, which I have annexed to the end of this Relati­on.

Towards the end of this year 1659. when the many mixt Sects, and their Creators and merciless Protectors, had led or driven each other into a Whirl-pool of Confusion: when amazement and fear had seiz'd them, and their accusing Consciences gave them an inward and fearful in­telligence, that the God which [Page] they had long serv'd, was now ready to pay them such wages as he does always reward Witches with for their obeying him: When these wretches were come to fore­see an end of their cruel reign, by our King's return; and such Sufferers as Dr. Sanderson (and with him many of the oppressed Clergy and others) could fore­see the cloud of their afflictions would be dispers'd by it: Then, in the beginning of the year fol­lowing, the King was by God re­stored to us, and we to our known Laws and Liberties; and a general joy and peace seem'd to breath through the 3 Nations. Then were the suffering Clergy [Page] freed from their Sequestration, restor'd to their Revenues, and to a liberty to adore, praise, and pray to God in such order as their Consciences and Oaths had formerly obliged them. And the Reader will easily believe that Dr. Sanderson and his dejected Fa­mily rejoyc'd to see this day, and be of this number.

It ought to be considered (which I have often heard or read) that in the Primitive times men of learning and vertue were usually sought for, and sollicited to accept of Episcopal Government, and often refus'd it. For they conscientiously considered, that the Office of a Bishop was made [Page] up of labour and care: that they were trusted to be God's Almon­ers of the Churches Revenue, and double their care for the poor: to live strictly themselves, and use all diligence to see that their Familie, Officers, and Cler­gy did so: and that the account of that Stewardship must at the last dreadful day be made to the Searcher of all hearts: and that in the primitive times they were therefore timorous to undertake it. It may not be said that Dr. Sanderson was accomplish'd with these, and all the other requisites requir'd in a Bishop, so as to be able to answer them exactly; but it may be affirm'd, as a good pre­paration, [Page] that he had at the Age of 73 years (for he was so old at the King's return) fewer faults to be pardon'd by God or man, than are apparent in others in these days, in which (God knows) we fall so short of that visible sanctity and zeal to God's glory, which was apparent in the days of primitive Christianity. This is mentioned by way of prepara­tion to what I shall say more of Dr. Sanderson; and namely, That at the King's return Dr. Sheldon, the late prudent Bishop of Can­terbury (than whom none knew, valued, or lov'd Dr. Sanderson more or better) was by his Ma­jesty made a chief Trustee to [Page] commend to him fit men to sup­ply the then vacant Bishopricks. And Dr. Sheldon knew none fitter than Dr. Sanderson, and therefore humbly desired the King that he would nominate him: and that done, he did as humbly desire Dr. Sanderson that he would for Gods and the Churches sake, take that charge and care upon him. Dr. Sanderson had, if not an unwillingness, certainly no forwardness to undertake it, and would often say, He had not led himself, but his Friend would now lead him into a temptation, which he had daily pray'd against; and be­sought God, if he did undertake it, so to assist him with his grace, that [Page] the example of his life, his cares and endeavours, might promote his glory, and help forward the salvation of o­thers.

This I have mentioned as a happy preparation to his Bishop­rick, and am next to tell that he was consecrated Bishop of Lin­coln at Westminster the 28th of O­ctober, 1660.

There was about this time a Christian care taken, that those whose Consciences were (as they said) tender, and could not com­ply with the Service and Cere­monies of the Church, might have satisfaction given by a friendly debate betwixt a select number of them, and some like [Page] number of those that had been Sufferers for the Church Service and Ceremonies, and now restor'd to liberty; of which last some were then preferr'd to power and dignity in the Church. And of these Bishop Sanderson was one, and then chose to be a Modera­tor in that debate: and he per­form'd his trust with much mild­ness, patience, and reason, but all prov'd uneffectual: For there be some propositions like jealousies, which (though causless, yet) can­not be remov'd by reasons as apparent as demonstration can make any truth. The place ap­pointed for this debate was the Savoy in the Strand: and the [Page] Points debated were, I think, ma­ny; some affirmed to be truth and reason, some denied to be either; and these debates being then in words, proved to be so loose and perplex'd, as satisfied neither party. For sometime that which had been affirmed was immediately forgot or de­ny'd, and so no satisfaction gi­ven to either party. But that the debate might become more use­ful, it was therefore resolv'd that the day following the desires and reasons of the Non-conformists should be given in writing, and they in writing receive Answers from the conforming party. And though I neither now can, nor [Page] need to mention all the Points debated, nor the names of the dissenting Brethren: yet I am sure Mr. Baxter was one, and am sure what shall now follow, was one of the Points debated.

Concerning a Command of lawful Superiours, what was suf­ficient to its being a lawful Com­mand; this Proposition was brought by the confirming Par­ty.

That Command which commands an act in it self lawful, and no other act or circumstance unlawful, is not sinful.

Mr. Baxter denied it for two Reasons, which he gave in with his own hand in writing thus: [Page] One was, Because that may be a sin per accidens, which is not so in it self, and may be unlawfully com­manded, though that accident be not in the command. Another was, That it may be commanded under an un­just penalty.

Again, this Proposition being brought by the Conformists, That Command which commandeth an act in it self lawful, and no other act whereby any unjust penalty is injoyn­ed, nor any circumstance whence per accidens any sin is consequent which the Commander ought to provide a­gainst, is not sinful.

Mr. Baxter denied it for this reason then given in with his own hand in writing, thus: Be­cause [Page] the first act commanded may be per accidens unlawful, and be com­manded by an unjust penalty, though no other act or circumstance com­manded be such.

Again, this Proposition being brought by the Conformists, That Command which commandeth an act in it self lawful, and no other Act whereby any unjust penalty is injoyn­ed, nor any circumtance whence di­rectly or per accidens any sin is consequent, which the Commander ought to provide against, hath in it all things requisite to the lawfulness of a Command, and particularly can­not be guilty of commanding an act per accidens unlawful, nor of com­manding an act under an unjust pe­nalty.

[Page]Mr. Baxter denied it upon the same Reasons.

Peter Gunning.

Iohn Pearson.

These were then two of the Disputants, still live, and will attest this; one being now Lord Bishop of Ely, and the other of Chester. And the last of them told me very lately, that one of the Dissenters (which I could, but forbear to name) appear'd to Dr. Sanderson to be so bold, so trou­blesome, and so illogical in the dispute, as forc'd patient Dr. San­derson (who was then Bishop of Lincoln, and a Moderator with other Bishops) to say with an unusual earnestness, That he had [Page] never met with a man of more perti­nacious confidence, and less abilities in all his conversation.

But though this debate at the Savoy was ended without any great satisfaction to either party, yet both parties knew the desires, and understood the abilities of the other much better than be­fore it: and the late distressed Clergy, that were now restor'd to their former rights and power, did at their next meeting in Con­vocation contrive to give the dissenting party satisfaction by alteration, explanation, and addi­tion to some part both of the Rubrick and Common Prayer, as al­so by adding some new necessary [Page] Collects, and a particular Col­lect of Thanksgiving. How many of those new Collects were word­ed by Dr. Sanderson, I cannot say; but am sure the whole Convoca­tion valued him so much, that he never undertook to speak to any Point in question, but he was heard with great willingness and attention; and when any Point in question was determin'd, the Convocation did usually desire him to word their intentions, and as usually approve & thank him.

At this Convocation the Com­mon Prayer was made more com­pleat, by adding 3 new necessary Offices; which were, A form of Humiliation for the murther of King [Page] Charles the Martyr; a Thanksgi­ving for the Restoration of his Son our King; and for the baptizing of persons of riper age. I cannot say Dr. Sanderson did form or word them all, but doubtless more than any single man of the Convoca­tion; and he did also, by desire of the Convocation, alter & add to the forms of Prayers to be u­sed at Sea (now taken into the Service Book) And it may be no­ted, That William, the now right Reverend Bishop of Canterbury, was in these imployments dili­gently useful, especially in help­ing to rectifie the Kalendar and Rubrick. And lastly it may be no­ted, That for the satisfying all the [Page] dissenting Brethren and others, the Convocations Reasons for the alterations and additions to the Liturgy, were by them desir'd to be drawn up by Dr. Sanderson; which being done by him, and approv'd by them, was appoint­ed to be printed before the Li­turgy, and may be known by this Title, —The Preface: and begins thus— It hath been the wisdom of the Church —.

I shall now follow him to his Bishoprick, and declare a part of his behaviour in that busie and weighty imployment. And first, That it was with such conde­scention and obligingness to the meanest of his Clergy, as to know [Page] and be known to them. And in­deed he practis'd the like to all men of what degree soever, espe­cially to his old Neighbours or Parishioners of Boothby Pannel; for there was all joy at his Table when they came to visit him: then they pray'd for him, and he for them with an unfeigned affection.

I think it will not be deny'd but that the care and toyl requi­red of a Bishop, may justly chal­lenge the riches & revenue with which their Predecessors had law­fully endow'd them; and yet he sought not that so much, as doing good both to the present Age and Posterity; and he made this appear by what follows.

[Page]The Bishops chief House at Buckden, in the County of Hun­tington, the usual Residence of his Predecessors (for it stands about the midst of his Diocese) having been at his Consecration a great part of it demolish'd, and what was left standing under a visible decay, was by him undertaken to be erected and repair'd; and it was perform'd with great speed, care, and charge. And to this may be added, That the King having by an Injunction commended to the care of the Bishops, Deans, and Prebends of all Cathedral Churches, the repair of them, their Houses, and augmentation of small Vicarages; He, when he was repair­ing [Page] Bugden, did also augment the last, as fast as Fines were paid for renewing Leases: so fast, that a Friend taking notice of his bounty, was so bold as to ad­vise him to remember, he was un­der his first fruits, and that he was old, and had a wife and children yet but meanly provided for, especi­ally if his dignity were considered. To whom he made a mild and thankful answer, saying, It would not become a Christian Bishop to suf­fer those houses built by his Predeces­sors, to be ruin'd for want of repair; and less justifiable to suffer any of those that were call'd to so high a calling as to sacrifice at God's Altar, to eat the bread of sorrow con­stantly, [Page] when he had a power by a small augmentation to turn it into the bread of chearfulness: and wish' d, that as this was, so it were also in his power to make all mankind happy, for he desired nothing more. And for his wife and children, he hop'd to leave them a competence; and in the hands of a God, that would pro­vide for all that kept innocence, and trusted his providence and protection, which he had always found enough to make and keep him happy.

There was in his Diocese a Mi­nister of almost his Age, that had been of Lincoln Colledge when he left it, who visited him often, and always welcome, because he was a man of innocence and open-heartedness: [Page] This Minister ask­ed the Bishop what Books he stu­died most, when he laid the foun­dation of his great and clear Learning? To which his An­swer was, That he declin'd read­ing many; but what he did read, were well chosen, and read so of­ten, that he became very familiar with them; and said they were chiefly three, Aristotle's Rhetorick, Aquinas's Secunda Secundae, and Tully, but chiefly his Offices, which he had not read over less than 20 times, and could at this Age say without Book. And told him also, the learned Civilian Doctor Zouch (who died lately) had writ Elementa jurisprudentiae, which [Page] was a Book that he could also say without Book; and that no wise man could read it too often, or love, or commend too much; and told him these had been his toyl: But for himself, he always had a natural love to Genealogies and Heraldry; and that when his thoughts were harassed with any perplext Studies, he left off, and turned to them as a recreation; and that his very recreation had made him so perfect in them, that he could in a very short time give an account of the De­scent, Arms, & Antiquity of any Family of the Nobility or Gen­try of this Nation.

Before I give an account of [Page] Dr. Sanderson's last sickness, I de­sire to tell the Reader that he was of a healthful constitution, chearful and mild, of an even temper, very moderate in his di­et, and had had little sickness, till some few years before his death; but was then every Winter pu­nish'd with a Diarrhea, which left him not till warm weather re­turn'd and remov'd it: And this distemper did, as he grew elder, seize him oftner, and continue longer with him. But though it weakned him, yet it made him rather indispos'd than sick, and did no way disable him from studying (indeed too much.) In this decay of his strength, but [Page] not of his memory or reason (for this distemper works not upon the understanding) he made his last Will, of which I shall give some account for confirmation of what hath been said, and what I think convenient to be known, before I declare his death and burial.

He did in his last Will give an account of his Faith and Perswa­sion in point of Religion and Church Government, in these very words:

I Robert Sanderson Dr. of Di­vinity, an unworthy Minister of Iesus Christ, and by the providence of God Bishop of Lincoln, being by [Page] the long continuance of an habitual distemper brought to a great bodily weakness and faintness of spirits, but (by the great mercy of God) without any bodily pain otherwise, or decay of understanding, do make this my Will and Testament (written all with my own hand) revoking all former Wills by me heretofore made, if any such shall be found. First, I com­mend my Soul into the hands of Al­mighty God, as of a faithful Crea­tor, which I humbly beseech him mer­cifully to accept, looking upon it, not as it is in it self (infinitely polluted with sin) but as it is redeemed and purged with the precious blood of his only beloved Son, and my most sweet Saviour Iesus Christ, in confidence of [Page] whose merits and mediation alone it is, that I cast my self upon the mercy of God for the pardon of my sins, and the hopes of eternal life. And here I do profess, that as I have lived, so I desire, and (by the grace of God) resolve to dye in the Communion of the Catholick Church of Christ, and a true Son of the Church of Eng­land; which, as it stands by Law established, to be both in Doctrine and Worship agreeable to the Word of God, and in the most, and most ma­terial Points of both, conformable to the faith and practice of the godly Churches of Christ in the primitive and purer times, I do firmly believe: led so to do, not so much from the force of custom and education (to [Page] which the greatest part of mankind owe their particular different perswa­sions in point of Religion) as upon the clear evidence of truth and reason, after a serious and unpartial exami­nation of the grounds, as well of Po­pery as Puritanism, according to that measure of understanding, and those opportunities which God hath afford­ed me: and herein I am abundant­ly satisfied, that the Schism which the Papists on the one hand, and the Superstition which the Puritan on the other hand, lay to our charge, are very justly chargeable upon them­selves respectively. Wherefore I hum­bly beseech Almighty God, the Father of Mercies, to preserve the Church by his power and providence, in peace, [Page] truth, and godliness, evermore to the worlds end: which doubtless he will do, if the wickedness and security of a sinful people (and particularly those sins that are so rise, and seem daily to increase among us, of Unthank­fulness, Riot, and Sacriledge) do not tempt his patience to the con­trary. And I also farther humbly beseech him, that it would please him to give unto our gracious Sovereign, the Reverend Bishops, and the Par­liament, timely to consider the great danger that visibly threatens this Church in point of Religion by the late great increase of Popery, and in point of Revenue by sacrilegious en­closures; and to provide such whole­some and effectual remedies as may [Page] prevent the same before it be too late.

And for a further manifesta­tion of his humble thoughts and desires, they may appear to the Reader, by another part of his Will which follows.

As for my corruptible Body, I be­queath it to the Earth whence it was taken, to be decently buried in the Parish Church of Bugden, towards the upper end of the Chancel, upon the second, or (at the farthest) the third day after my decease; and that with as little noise, pomp, and charge as may be, without the invitation of any person how near soever related unto me, other than the Inhabitants of Bugden; without the unnecessary expence of Escocheons, Gloves, Ribons, [Page] &c. and without any Blacks to be hung any where in or about the House or Church, other than a Pulpit Cloth, a Hearse Cloth, and a Mourning Gown for the Preacher; whereof the former (after my Body shall be in­terred) to be given to the Preacher of the Funeral Sermon, and the lat­ter to the Curat of the Parish for the time being. And my will further is, That the Funeral Sermon be preach­ed by my own Houshold Chaplain, containing some wholesome discourse concerning Mortality, the Resurrecti­on of the Dead, and the last Iudg­ment; and that he shall have for his pains 5 l. upon condition, that he speak nothing at all concerning my person, either good or ill, other than I [Page] my self shall direct; only signifying to the Auditory that it was my ex­press will to have it so. And it is my will, that no costly Monument be e­rected for my memory, but only a fair flot Marble stone to be laid over me, with this Inscription in legible Ro­man Characters, Depositum Ro­berti Sanderson nuper Lin [...]l­niencis Episcopi, qui obiit Anno Domini MDCLXII. & aetatis suae septuagesimo sexto, Hic requiescit in spe beatae resurrectionis. This manner of burial, although I cannot but foresee it will prove unsatisfacto­ry to sundry my nearest Friends and Relations, and be apt to be censured by others, as an evidence of my too much parsimony and narrowness of [Page] mind, as being altogether unusual, and not according to the mode of these times; yet it is agreeable to the sense of my heart, and I do very much de­sire my Will may be carefully obser­ved herein, hoping it may become ex­emplary to some or other: at least howsoever testifying at my death (what I have so often and earnestly professed in my life time) my utter dislike of the flatteries commonly used in Funeral Sermons, and of the vast Expences otherwise laid out in Fu­neral Solemnities and Entertain­ments, with very little benefit to any, which (if bestowed in pious and cha­ritable works) might redound to the publick or private benefit of many persons.

[Page]I am next to tell, that he died the 29th of Ianuary, 1662. and that his Body was buried in Bug­den the third day after his death; and for the manner, that 'twas as far from ostentation as he desir'd it; and all the rest of his Will was as punctually performed. And when I have (to his just praise) told this truth, That he di­ed far from being rich, I shall re­turn back to visit, and give a fur­ther account of him on his last Sick-bed.

His last Will (of which I have mentioned a part) was made a­bout three weeks before his death, about which time finding his strength to decay by reason of [Page] his constant infirmity, and a con­sumptive cough added to it, he retir'd to his Chamber, expres­sing a desire to enjoy his last thoughts to himself in private, without disturbance or care, e­specially of what might concern this world. And that none of his Clergy (which are more nu­merous than any other Bishops) might suffer by his retirement, he did by Commission impower his Chaplain, Mr. Pullin, with E­piscopal Power to give Instituti­ons to all Livings or Church Pre­ferments, during this his disabi­lity to do it himself. In this time of his retirement he long'd for his Dissolution; and when some that [Page] lov'd him pray'd for his recove­ry, if he at any time found any amendment, he seem'd to be dis­pleas'd, by saying, His Friends said their Prayers backward for him: and that 'twas not his desire to live a useless life, and by filling up a place keep another out of it, that might do God and his Church service. He would often with much joy and thankfulness mention, That du­ring his being a House-keeper (which was more than 40 years) there had not been one buried out of his Fami­ly, and that he was now like to be the first. He would also often mention with thankfulness, That till he was threescore years of Age, he had never spent 5s. in Law, nor [Page] (upon himself) so much in Wine: and rejoyc'd much that he had so liv'd, as never to cause an hours sorrow to his good Father; and hop'd he should die without an Enemy.

He in this retirement had the Church Prayers read in his Chamber twice every day; and at nine at night some Pray­ers read to him and a part of his Family out of the Whole Duty of Man. As he was remarkably punctual and regular in all his studies and actions; so he us'd himself to be for his Meals. And his dinner being appointed to be constantly ready at the end­ing of Prayers, and he expect­cting and calling for it, was an­swered, [Page] It would be ready in a quarter of an hour. To which his reply was, A quarter of an hour? Is a quarter of an hour nothing to a man that probably has not many hours to live. And though he did live many hours after this, yet he liv'd not many days; for the day after (which was three days before his death) he was become so weak and weary of either motion or sitting, that he was content, or forc'd to keep his bed. In which I desire he may rest, till I have given some account of his be­haviour there, and immediately before it.

The day before he took his bed (which was three days be­fore [Page] his death) he, that he might receive a new assurance for the pardon of his sins past, and be strengthned in his way to the new Ierusalem, took the blessed Sacrament of the Body and Blood of his, and our blessed Iesus, from the hands of his Chaplain Mr. Pullin, accompanied with his Wife, Children, and a Friend, in as awful, humble, and ardent a manner, as outward reverence could express. After the praise and thanksgiving for it was end­ed, he spake to this purpose; Thou, O God, took'st me out of my mothers womb, and hast been the powerful Protector of me to this pre­sent moment of my life; thou hast [Page] neither forsaken me now I am be­come grey-headed, nor suffered me to forsake thee in the late days of temptation, and sacrifice my Con­science for the preservation of my liberty or estate. 'Twas by grace that I have stood, when others have fallen under my trials: and these mercies I now remember with joy and thankfulness; and my hope and de­sire is, that I may die praising thee.

The frequent repetition of the Psalms of David hath been noted to be a great part of the Devoti­on of the Primitive Christians: The Psalms having in them not only Prayers and holy Instructi­ons, but such Commemorations of God's Mercies, as may pre­serve [Page] comfort, and confirm our dependance on the power, and providence, and mercy of our Creator. And this is mention'd in order to telling, that as the holy Psalmist said,Psal. 119. 147. that his eyes should prevent both the dawning of the day and the night watches, by meditating on God's word: so 'twas Dr. Sanderson's constant practice every morning to entertain his first waking thoughts with a re­petition of those very Psalms, that the Church hath appointed to be constantly read in the dai­ly Morning Service; and having at night laid him in his bed, he as constantly clos'd his eyes with a repetition of those appointed [Page] for the Service of the Evening, remembring & repeating the ve­ry Psalms appointed for every day; and as the month had for­merly ended and began again, so did this Exercise of his Devoti­on. And if his first waking thoughts were of the World, or what concern'd it, he would ar­raign and condemn himself for it. Thus he began that work on earth, which is now his imploy­ment in heaven.

After his taking his Bed, and about a day before his death, he desir'd his Chaplain, Mr. Pullin, to give him Absolution: And at his performing that Office, he pull'd off his Cap, that Mr. Pullin [Page] might lay his hand upon his bare head. After this desire of his was satisfied, his Body seem'd to be at more ease, and his mind more chearful; and he said, Lord, for­sake me not now my strength faileth me, but continue thy mercy, and let my mouth be filled with thy praise. He continued the remaining night and day very patient, and thankful for any of the little Of­fices that were perform'd for his ease and refreshment; and during that time, did often say the 103 Psalm to himself, and very often these words, My heart is fixed, O God, my heart is fixed where true joy is to be found. His thought sseem'd now to be wholly of death, [Page] for which he was so prepar'd, that that King of Terrors could not sur­prise him as a thief in the night; for he had often said, he was pre­par'd, and long'd for it. And as this desire seem'd to come from Hea­ven; so it left him not, till his Soul ascended to that Region of bles­sed Spirits, whose Imployments are to joyn in consort with him, and sing praise and glory to that God, who hath brought them to that place, into which sin and sorrow cannot enter.

Thus this pattern of meekness and primitive innocence chang'd this for a better life. 'Tis now too late to wish that my life may be like his; for I am in the eighty [Page] fifth year of my Age; but I hum­bly beseech Almighty God, that my death may; and do as earnest­ly beg of every Reader to say A­men.

Psal. 32.2.Blessed is the man in whose Spirit there is no guile.

Bishop Sanderson's JUDGMENT Concerning SUBMISSION TO USURPERS.

WHEREAS you desire to know what my judgment and practice is concerning the u­sing or forbearing the establish'd Liturgy (either in whole, [Page 2] or in part) in the publick Service of God, and Office of the Church: If it be any satisfaction to your Friend, I shall fully acquaint you what my practice is (whereunto if my own Judgment be not conform, I am, without all excuse, my own con­demner) and upon what considera­tions I have, according to the varia­tion of the times, varied from my self therein.

So long as my Congregation con­tinued unmixt with Souldiers, as well after as before the Promulgation of the Ordinance of the two Houses for the abolishing of the Common Prayer, I continued the use of it, as I had ever formerly done in the most peaceable and orderly times, not o­mitting those very Prayers, the si­lencing whereof I could not but know to have been chiefly aim'd at in the Ordinance (viz.) three for the King and Queen and Bishops; and so I did also though some Souldiers were casually present, till such time as a whole Troop coming to Quar­ter [Page 3] in the Town (with a purpose to continue a kind of Garison or Head-quarter among us) were so en­rag'd at my reading of it the first Sunday after they came, that im­mediately after Morning Service ended, they seiz'd upon the Book, and tore it all in pieces. Thence-forward during their continuance there for full six months and upwards (viz.) from the beginning of No­vember till they were call'd away to Naseby Fight in May following, be­sides that for want of a Book of ne­cessity I must, I saw that it also be­hoov'd me, for the preventing of farther Outrages, to wave the use of the Book for the time, at least in the Ordinary Service; only I read the Confession, the Lord's Prayer, all the Versicles, and the Psalms for the day. Then after the first Lesson in the Forenoon Benedictus or Iubi­late; and in the Afternoons Cantate. After the second Lesson also, some­times the Creed, sometimes the Ten Commandements, and sometimes [Page 4] neither, but only sang a Psalm, and so to Sermon. But in all that while, in the Administration of the Sacra­ments, the Solemnization of Ma­trimony, Burial of Dead, and Churching of Women, I constantly used the ancient Forms and Rites to every of them respectively be­longing, according to the appoint­ment in the Book; only I was care­ful in all the rest to make choice of such times and opportunities as I might do them with most secresie, and without disturbance of the Soul­dier. But at the Celebration of the Eucharist I was the more secure to do it publickly, because I was assur'd none of the Souldiers would be pre­sent.

After their departure I took the liberty to use either the whole Litur­gy, or but some part of it, omitting sometimes more, sometimes less up­on occasion, as I judg'd it most ex­pedient in reference to the Audito­ry, especially if any Souldiers, or o­ther unknown persons hapned to be [Page 5] present. But all this while the sub­stance of what I omitted I contriv'd into my Prayer before Sermon, the phrase and order only varied, which yet I endeavour'd to temper in such sort, that any person of ordinary ca­pacity might easily perceivve what my meaning was, and yet the words left as little liable to exception or ca­vil as might be.

About two years ago I was adver­tis'd (but in a friendly manner) by a Parliament man of note in these parts, that at a publick Meeting at Gran­tham, great complaint was made by some Ministers of the Presbyterian Gang, as I afterwards found, of my refractoriness to obey the Parlia­ments Order in that behalf. The Gentleman told me withal, That al­though they knew what my judgment and practice was, yet they were not forward to take notice of it before complaint made, which being now done in so publick a manner, if they should not take notice of it, the blame would lie upon them. He therefore [Page 6] advised me to consider well what I had to do, for I must resolve either to adventure the loss of my Living, or to lay aside Common Prayer; which if I should continue after com­plaint and admonition, it would not be in his power, nor in the power of any Friend I had to preserve me. The effect of my then Answer was, That if the case were so, the deliberation was not hard: I having long ago considered of the case, and resolved what I might do with a good Consci­ence, and what was fittest for me in prudence to do, if I should ever be put to it (viz.) to forbear the use of the Common Prayer Book so far as might satisfie the letter of the Ordinance, rather than forsake my Station.

My next business then was to be-think my self of such a course to be thenceforth held in the publick work in my own Parish, as might be be­lieved neither to bring danger to my self by the use, nor to give scandal to my Brethren by the disuse of the [Page 7] establish'd Liturgy. And the course was this, to which I have held me ever since.

I begin the Service with a Preface, and an Exhortation infer'd to make Confession of Sins; which Exhorta­tion I have fram'd out of the Ex­hortation and Absolution in the Book, contracted and put together, and exprest for the most part in the same words and phrases, but pur­posely here and there transplac'd, that it might appear not to be, and yet to be the very same.

Then follows the Confession it self in the same Order; it was en­larg'd only with the addition of some words, whereby it is rather explain'd than alter'd. The whole frame whereof, both for the fuller satisfaction in that particular, and that you may conjecture what man­ner of addition and change I have made proportionably hereunto (yet none so large) in other parts of the holy Office, I have here under­written.

[Page 8]O Almighty God and merciful Father, we thy unworthy Servants do with shame and sorrow confess, that we have all our life long gone astray out of thy ways like lost sheep; and that by following too much the vain devices and desires of our own hearts, we have grievously offended against thy holy laws both in thought, word, and deed. We have many times left undone those good duties which we might and ought to have done, and we have many times done those evils, when we might have avoided them, which we ought not to have done. We confess, O Lord, that there is no health at all, nor help in any Creature to re­lieve us; but all our hope is in thy mercy, whose justice we have by our sins so far provoked. Have mercy upon us therefore, O Lord, have mercy upon us miserable Offenders: Spare us good Lord who confess our faults, that we perish not, but ac­cording to thy gracious promises de­clared unto mankind in Christ Iesu [Page 9] our Lord, restore us upon our true Repentance into thy grace and fa­vour. And grant, O most merciful Father, for his sake, that we hence­forth study to serve and please thee by leading a godly, righteous, and sobèr life, to the glory of thy holy Name, and the eternal comfort of our own Souls, through Iesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

After the Confession the Lord's Prayer with the Versicles, and Glo­ria Patri, and then Psalms for the Day, and the first Lesson: After which in the Forenoon, sometimes Te Deum, (but then only when I think the Auditory will bear it) and sometimes an Hymn of mine own, gathered out of the Psalms and Church Collects, as a general Form of Thanksgiving (which I did the rather, because I have noted the want of such a Form as the only thing wherein the Liturgy seem'd to be defective). And in the After­noon, after the first Lesson the 98th. Psalm, or the 67th. then the [Page 10] second Lesson, with Benedictus or Iubilate; after it in the Forenoon and Afternoon a singing Psalm. Then followeth the Creed, with Dominus Vobiscum; and sometimes the Ver­sicles in the end of our Letany [From our Enemies defend us] if I lik'd my Auditory, otherwise I omit the Ver­sicles. After the Creed, and instead of the Letany and the other Prayers appointed in the Book, I have taken the substance of the Prayer I was wont to make before Sermon, and dispos'd it into several Collects or Prayers, some longer and some shorter, but new modell'd into the language of the Common Prayer Book much more than it was before. And in the Pulpit, before Sermon I use only a short Prayer in reference to the hearing of the Word, and no more. So that upon the matter, in these Prayers I do but the same thing I did before, save only that what before I spake without Book, and in a continued Form in the Pul­pit, I now read out of a written Book [Page 11] broken into parcels, and in the read­ing Desk or Pue. Between which Prayers and the singing Psalms be­fore the Sermon, I do also daily use one other Collect, of which sort I have for the purpose compos'd sun­dry, made up also (as the former) for the most part out of the Church Collects, with some little enlarge­ment or variation; as namely, the Collects Adventual, Quadragesimal, Paschal, or Pentecostal, for their pro­per seasons; and at other times Col­lects of a more general nature, as for Pardon, Repentance, Grace, &c. And after one or more of them in the Forenoon, I usually repeat the Ten Commandements, with a short Collect after them for Grace to ena­ble us to keep them.

This hath been my practice, and is like still to be, unless some happy Change of Affairs restore us the li­berty of using the old way again, or it be made appear to my Under­standing by some able charitable Friend, That I therein have done [Page 12] otherwise then I ought to have done: For I may say, that I have not yet met with any thing in Dis­course, either with my own Rea­son or others, of sufficient strength to convince me that I have done any thing, but what may stand with the Principles as well of Christian Sim­plicity as Prudence.

There are but three things, that I know of, that are of any considera­tion oppos'd, viz.

• 1. The Obligation of the Laws.
• 2. The Scandal of the Exam­ple.
• 3. The unseemly symbolizing at least with Schismaticks, if not partaking with them in the Schism.

1. Law. Object. 1.The first and strongest Objection (which I shall therefore propose to the most advan­tage of the Objector) is that which is grounded upon the Laws, and their Obligation: For it may be Objected, That every humane Law [Page 13] rightly establish'd, so long as it con­tinueth a Law, obligeth the Sub­ject (and that for Conscience sake) to the observation thereof in such manner and form as in the same Law is prescribed, and according to the true meaning and intention of the Law-giver therein. That a Law is then understood to be rightly establish'd, when it containeth no­thing but what is honest and lawful, and is enacted by such person or per­sons as have full and sufficient au­thority to make Laws. That a Law so establish'd continues a Law, and is so in force, till it be either Re­pealed by as good and lawful Au­thority, as that by which it was made, or else antiquated by a long continued uninforc'd disuse with the tacit or presumed consent of the Law-giver. That the Act printed before the Common Prayer Book, and entituled (An Act for the Unifor­mity) was such a Law, being it was established in a full and free Par­liament in peaceable times, and ra­tified [Page 14] by the Royal Assent, That it still continues in force, and being not yet Repealed, but by such per­sons as (at least in the Opinion of those that maintain the Dispute) for want of the Royal Assent, have not a sufficient right or authority to do such an Act, nor disused but of late times, and that by enforce­ment, and as is presum'd, much a­gainst the mind of the Law-giver. That therefore it still retains the power of obliging in part of Consci­ence; that power being so essential and intrinsecal to every Law, qua­tenus a Law, that it can in no wise be sever'd from it.

And that therefore no Minister publickly officiating in the Church, can with a good Conscience either o­mit any part of that which is com­manded by the aforesaid Law, or use any other Form than what is contained in the foresaid Book, but must either use the Form prescribed in the Book, or else forbear to offi­ciate.

[Page 15]The Answer to this Objection (granting all in the Premisses besides) dependeth upon the right understanding of that which is affirmed concering the Obligation of the Laws according to the inten­tion of the Law-giver;Answ. which if it should be understood precisely of that particular, actual, and imme­diate intention which the Law-giver had declared by the words of the Law (in which sense only the Ob­jection proceedeth) will not hold true in all cases. But there is sup­pos'd besides that, in Law-giver, a more general, habitual, & ultimate intention of a more excellent and transcendent nature that the former, which is to have an influence into, and over-ruling power over all par­ticular Laws (viz.) an intention by the Laws to procure and promote the publick good. The former in­tention binds, when it is subservient to the latter, or consistent with it, and consequently bindeth in ordina­ry cases, and in orderly times, or else [Page 16] the Law is not a wholesome Law. But when the observation of the Law, by reason of the conjuncture of circumstances, or the iniquity of the times (contingencies which no Lawgiver could either certainly foresee, or if foreseen, sufficiently provide against) would rather be prejudicial than advantageous to the Publick; or is manifestly attended with such inconveniencies and sad consequents to the Observers, as all the imaginable good that can re­dound to the Publick thereby, cannot in any reasonable measure counter­vail: In such case the Law obligeth not, but according to the latter and more general intention only; even as in the operations of nature, par­ticular Agents do ordinarily move according to their proper and parti­cular inclinations; yet upon some oc­casions, and to serve the ends and in­tentions of universal nature (for the avoiding of some things which na­ture abhors) they are sometimes car­ried with motions quite contrary to [Page 17] their particular natures; as the Air to descend, and the Water to ascend for the avoiding of vacuity, &c. The common received Maxim (which hath been sufficiently misapplied, and that sometimes to very ill pur­poses since the beginning of these unhappy divisions) in the true mean­ing of it looketh this way, Salus populi suprema Lex: the equity of which Maxim, as it leaveth in the Law-giver a power of dispensing with the Law (which is a suspend­ing the Obligation thereof for the time in respect of the proper and particular intention) so he shall see it expedient in order to the publick good; so it leaveth in the Subject a liberty upon just occasions (as in ca­ses of great exigency, and for the preventing of such hazards and in­conveniencies as might prove of noy­some consequence to the Publick) to do otherwise than the Law requi­reth. And neither is the exercise of that power in the Lawgiver to be thought an unreasonable Preroga­tive, [Page 18] nor the use of this liberty in the Subject an unreasonable presump­tion; inasmuch as the power of di­spensing with particular Laws is such a Prerogative, as without which no Commonwealth can be well govern'd, but Justice would be turn'd into Gall and Wormwood: Nor can the Supream Governour, without forfeiture of that faithfulness which he oweth to the Publick Weal, de­vest himself thereof.

And he that presumeth of the Law-givers consent to dispense with him for the Observation of the Law in such needful cases (where he hath not the opportunity to consult his pleasure therein) presumeth no more than he hath reason to do. For it may well be presum'd that the Law-giver, who is bound in all his Laws to intend the safety of the Publick, and of every member thereof in his due proportion, hath no intention by the strict observation of any par­ticular Law, to oblige any person, who is a Member of the Publick, to [Page 19] his destruction or ruin, when the common good is not answerably pro­moted thereby: Upon which ground it is generally resolv'd by Casuists, That no Constitution (meerly hu­mane) can lay such Obligation upon the Conscience of the Subject, but that we may (according to the ex­igency of circumstances) do other­wise than the Constitution requireth, provided it be done extra casum scandali & contemptûs, i.e. without either bewraying in himself any contempt of the Authority of the Law-giver by his carriage, or giving any just occasion of scandal to o­thers by his example in so doing.

I have been somewhat the longer in explaining this point, not only for the better clearing of the present doubt, but also in respect of the use­fulness of this consideration for the preventing and removing of many scruples that may happen to consci­entious men in such times as these, wherein so many things are (and are like to be) commanded and forbid­den [Page 20] contrary to the establish'd Laws, and those (as they are perswaded) yet standing in force. The best rule that I know to guide men in their deliberations and actions in such e­mergent cases (according to what hath been already delivered) is ad­visedly and impartially to weigh the benefit & inconveniencies, as well on the one side, as on the other, as they stand in relation unto the Publick Good: and if after such examination and comparison made, it shall then evidently (or but in the judgment of probability) appear, that the Ob­servation of the Law, according to the proper intention of the Law-giver therein, though with hazard of Estate, Liberty, or even life it self, hath a greater tendency to the Publick Good, and the preservation of church or Commonwealth in safety, peace, and order, than the preventing of the foresaid hazards, or other evil consequents, by doing otherwise than the Law requireth, can have; or (which cometh to [Page 21] one) if the violating of the Law shall then to be more prejudi­cial to the publick Good, than the preservation of the Subject's Estate, Liberty, or Life can be beneficial hereunto: In such case the Subject is bound to hazard all he hath, and un­dergo whatsoever inconveniencies and calamities can ensue thereupon, rather than violate the Law with contempt of that Authority to which he oweth subjection.

But if it shall (after such compa­rison made) evidently (or but more probably than the contrary) appear, That that preservation of such a per­sons Life, Liberty, Estate, would more benefit the Church or Com­monwealth, than the punctual ob­servation of the Law at that time, and with those circumstances, would do; it were an unseasonable, unrea­sonable, and pernicious scrupulosity for such a person to think himself in such a case obliged for the observing of the Law (perhaps but once or twice) with little or no benefit to the [Page 22] Publick, to ruin himself, whereby to render himself unuseful and unser­viceable to the Publick for ever here­after.

To bring this Discourse home, and to apply it to the business now under dispute. Suppose we ten, twenty, or One hundred godly Ministers, well affected to the establish'd Li­turgy, and actually possess'd of Be­nefices, with the Charge of Souls thereto belonging, should, thinking themselves in Conscience obliged to the use of the whole Form of the Book, as is by the Act appointed, without any addition, omission, or alteration whatsoever (notwith­standing the present conjuncture of Affairs) resolve to use the same ac­cordingly, it would be well consider­ed what the effects and consequents thereof would be.

Besides other evils, these three are visible, which must all unavoidably follow one upon another, if any bo­dy shall be found (as doubtless with­in short time there will be found one [Page 23] or other) to inform and prosecute against them.

1. The utter undoing of so many worthy persons, fit to do God and his Church good service, together with all those persons that depend upon them for their livelyhood, by putting the fruits of their Benefices, wherewith they should buy them­selves bread, under Sequestrati­on.

2. The depriving of those per­sons of the opportunity of discharg­ing the duties that belong unto them in their Ministerial Calling, in not permitting them, after such Seque­stration, to teach or instruct the peo­ple belonging to their Charge, or to exercise any thing of their Function publickly in the Church.

3. The delivering over the Sheep of Christ, that lately were under the hands of the faithful Shepherds, into the Custody of ravenous Wolves, when such Guides shall be set over the several Congregations, as will be sure to mis-teach them one [Page 24] way or other (viz.) either by in­stilling into them Puritanical and Su­perstitious Principles, that they may the more securely exercise their Presbyterian Tyranny over their Judgments, Consciences, Persons, and Estates, or else by setting up new Lights before them, to lead them in­to a maze of Anabaptistical confusion and frenzy.

These consequents are so heavy to the Sufferers, so certain to ensue upon the use of Common Prayer, and so much without the power of the Law-givers (in this state of Af­fairs) either to prevent or remedy, that it is beyond the wit of man what benefit to the Publick can ac­crue by the strict observation of the Act, that may in any proportion countervail these mischiefs. In which case, that man must needs suppose a strange austerity in the Law-giver, that dares not presume of his consent to disoblige him (for the time) from observing the same. It would be al­so well considered, Whether he that [Page 25] by his own over-nice scrupulosity runs all these hazards, be not (in some measure) guilty of his own undoing, of deserting his station, and of betraying his flock, and do not thereby lose much of that com­fort which a Christian Confessor may take in his sufferings, when they are laid upon him by the Hand of God, and not pull'd upon himself by his own hands. And more I shall not need to say as to that first Obje­ction.

The next thing objected is,Object. 2. Scandal. The danger of the Scandal that others might be ready to take at the Example, who seeing the Law so little regarded by such men (men that have Cure of Souls, and perhaps also of some eminency and esteem in the Church, and whose Example will be much look'd upon) will be easily encourag'd by this Example to set light by all Authority, and to take the liberty to obey and disobey the Laws of their Soveraign at their pleasure.

[Page 26]But this Objection, after we are once satisfied concerning the former, need not much trouble us. For,

• 1. It seemeth an unreasonable thing in cases of great Exigence (such as we now suppose) that the fear of scandalizing our weak Bre­thren (which is but Debitum charita­tis only) should lay upon us a peremp­tory necessity of observing the Law punctually, whatsoever inconveni­encies and mischiefs may ensue thereupon: when the duty of Obe­dience to our known Governours (which is Debitum justitiae also, and therefore more Obligatory than the other) doth not impose that ne­cessity upon us; as hath been already shewn.
• 2. Besides, Arguments drawn from scandal in things neither un­lawful nor (setting the reason of Scandal aside) inexpedient, as they are subject to sundry frailties other­wise, so they are manifestly of no weight at all, when they are coun­terpois'd with the apparent danger [Page 27] of evil consequents on the other side. For in such cases there is com­monly equal danger (if not rather something more) of Scandal to be taken from the Example the quite contrary way. We may see it in de­bating the point now in hand: It is alledged on the one side, That by laying aside the use of the Common Prayer, men that are over scrupu­lous will be encourag'd to take a greater liberty in dispensing with the Laws (to the despising both of Laws and Governours) than they ought. And why may it not, by the same reason, be as well alleg'd on the o­ther side, That by holding up a ne­cessity of using the Common Prayer, men that have tender Consciences may be induc'd to entertain scruples (to their utter undoing, and to the destruction of their people) when they need not?
• 3. But that in the third place, which cometh up home to the busi­ness, and taketh off the Objection clearly, is this, That in judging Ca­ses [Page 28] of scandal, we are not so much to look to the event, what it is, or may be, as to the cause, whence it cometh. For sometimes there is given just cause of Scandal; and yet no Scandal followeth, because it is not taken: Sometimes scandal is ta­ken, and yet no just cause given: and sometimes there is both cause of Scandal given, and Scandal taken thereat. But no man is concern'd at any Scandal that happeneth to a­nother by occasion of any thing done by him, neither is chargeable with it farther than he is guilty of having given it. If then we give Scandal to others, and they take it not, the whole guilt is ours, and they are faultless. If we give it, and they take it, we are to bear a share in the blame as they, and that a deep share; (Vae homini, Wo to the man by whome the offence cometh, Matth. 18.7.) But if they take offence when we give none, it is a thing we cannot help, and therefore the whole blame must lie upon them.

[Page 29]Wherefore, if at any time any doubt shall arise in that case of Scan­dal, How far forth the danger there­of may obligue us to the doing or not doing of any thing propos'd; The Resolution will come on much the easier, if we shall but rightly under­stand what it is to give Scandal, or how many ways a man may become guilty of scandalizing another by his Example.

The ways (as I conceive) are but these four.

• 1. When a man doth something before another, which is in it self e­vil, unlawful, and sinful. In which case, neither the intension of him that doth it, nor the event as to him that seeth it done, is of any conside­ration: For it matters not whether the doer hath an intention to draw the other into sin, or not; the very matter and substance of the action being evil, and done before others, is sufficient to render the doer guilty of having given Scandal, though neither he had intention himself so [Page 30] to do, nor was any other person a­ctually scandaliz'd thereby: because whatsoever is in its own nature evil, is of it self, and in its own nature scandalous, and of ill Example.

  Thus did Hophni and Phineas, the Sons of Eli, 1 Sam. 2. 17.22. give Scandal by their wretched prophane­ness and greediness about the Sacrifices of the Lord, and their shameless abusing the Women. And so did David also give great Scandal in the matter of Vriah, 2 Sam. 12. 14. Here the Rule is, ‘Do nothing that is evil, for fear of giving Scandal.’

• 2. The second way is, when a man doth something before another with a direct intention and formal purpose of drawing him thereby to commit sin. In which case neither the matter of the action, nor the e­vent is of any consideration: For it makes no difference as to the sin of giving Scandal, whether any man be effectually entic'd to commit sin or not thereby; neither doth it make [Page 31] any difference, whether the thing done were in it self unlawful, or not, so as it had an appearance of evil, and from thence an aptitude to draw another by the doing of that (by i­mitation) which should be really and intrinsecally evil. The wicked in­tention alone (whatsoever the effect should be, or what means soever should be us'd to promote it) sufficeth to induce the guilt of giving Scandal upon the doer. This was Ieroboam's sin, in setting up the Calvos, with a formal purpose and intention there­by (for his own secular and ambiti­ous ends) to corrupt the purity of Religion, and to draw the people un­to Idolatrous Worship. For which cause he is so often stigmatiz'd with it, as a note of Infamy, to stick by him whilst the World lasteth, being scarce ever-mention'd in the Scrip­ture, but with this addition, Jerobo­am the son of Nebat, which made Is­rael to sin. Here the Rule is, ‘Do nothing, a good or evil, with an intention to give Scandal.’
• [Page 32]3. The third way is when a man doth something before another, which in it self is not evil, but indif­ferent, and so according to the Rule of Christian Liberty, lawful for him to do, or not to do, as he shall see cause (yea, and perhaps otherwise commodious and convenient for him to do) yet whereas he probably fore­seeth that others will take Scandal, and be occasioned thereby to do evil. In such a case, if the thing to be done be not in some degree prudentially necessary for him to do, but that he might, without very great inconve­nience or prejudice to himself or any third person, leave it undone: He is bound in Charity to his Brother's Soul (for whom Christ died) and for the avoiding of Scandal, to abridge himself in the exercise of his Christi­an Liberty for that time, so far as ra­ther to suffer some inconvenience himself by the not doing of it, than by the doing of it to cause his Brother to offend. The very Case which is so often, so largely, and so earnestly [Page 33] insisted upon by St. Paul. See Rom. 14.13,21. Rom. 15.1, 3. 1 Cor. 87, 13. 1 Cor. 9.12, 15, 19, 22. 1 Cor. 10.23.33. Here the Rule is, ‘Do nothing that may be reasona­bly forborn, whereat Scandal will be taken.’
• 4. The last way is, when a man doth somthing before another, which is not only lawful, but (according to the exigencies of present Circum­stances) pro hic & nunc very be­hoofful, and even prudentially ne­cessary for him to do, but foreseeth that the other will be like to make an ill use of it, and take encourage­ment thereby to commit sin, if he be not withal careful, as much as possi­bly in him lieth, to prevent the Scan­dal that may be taken thereat: For, Qui non prohibet peccare, cum potest, jubet. In such case the bare neglect of his Brother, and not using his ut­most endeavour to prevent the evil that might ensue, maketh him guil­ty. Upon which consideration stand­eth the Equity of the Judicial Law [Page 34] given to the Jews,
  Exod. 21. 33, 34.
  which ordered, That in case a man dig a Pit for the use of his Family, and looking no farther than his own convenience, put no co­ver upon it, and leave it open, where­by it hapneth his Neighbours Beast to fall thereinto and perish, the own­er of the Pit is to make it good, inas­much as he was the occasioner of that loss to his Neighbour, which he might and ought to have prevented. Here the Rule is ‘Order the doing of that, which may not be well left undone, in such sort that no Scandal (so far as you can help it) may be taken thereat.’

To apply this. The thing under debate, viz. the Action propos'd to present enquiry is, The laying aside the Common Prayer, being enjoyn'd by Law, and using instead thereof some other Form of Church Service of our own devising. And the En­quiry concerning it is, Whether it may be done with a good Conscience [Page 35] in regard of the Scandal that is gi­ven, or at least may be taken thereat, Yea or No?

Now forasmuch as in this Enquiry we take it for granted, That the thing to be done is not in its own na­ture simply evil, but rather in this state of affairs prudentially necessary; and that they who make scruple at it upon the point of Scandal, have not the least intention of drawing other of the Laws into contempt, or their Brethren into sin by their Example. It is manifest that three of the now mention'd Cases, with the Rules to each of them appending, are not pertinent to the present Enquiry. But since the last of the four only proveth to be our Case, we have therefore no more to do for the set­ling of our Judgments, and quieting of our Consciences, and the regula­ting of our Practice in this Affair, than to consider well what the Rule in this Case given obligeth us unto; which is not to leave the Action un­done for the danger of Scandal, [Page 36] which (besides the Inconveniencies formerly mention'd) would but start new Questions, and those beget more to the multiplying unnecessary Scru­ples in infinitum: But to order the do­ing of it so, that (if it were possible) no Scandal at all might ensue thereup­on, or at least wise not by our default, through our careless or undiscreet managery thereof. Even as the Jew that stood in need to sink a Pit for the service of his House or Ground, was not (for fear his Neighbours Beast should fall into it, and be drown'd) bound by the Law to forbear the making of it, but only to provide a sufficient cover for it, where he had made it. The thing then in this Case is not to be left undone, when it so much behoveth us to do it; but the Action to be carried on (for the manner of doing, and in all respects and circumstances thereunto belong­ing) with so much chariness and ten­derness, moderation and wisdom (to our best understanding) that the ne­cessity of our so doing, with the true [Page 37] cause thereof, may appear to the World, to the satisfaction of those that are willing to take notice of it; and that such persons as would be willing to make use of our Ensample to do the same thing, where there is not the same necessity, may do it up­on their own score, and not be able to vouch our practice for their ex­cuse; which how it may be best done for particular directions, every cha­ritable and conscientious man must ask his own discretion. Some gene­ral helps thereunto I shall lay down in answering the next Objection, where they would fall in again not improperly, and so stop two Gaps with one Bush.

The last Objection is that of Shism.Object. 3. Schism. The Objectors hold all such persons as have oppos'd either Liturgy or Church Govern­ment, as they were by Law estab­lish'd within this Realm, for no bet­ter than Schismaticks; and truly I shall not much gain-say it. But then they argue, That for them to do the [Page 38] same thing in the publick worship of God that Schismaticks do (and for doing whereof especially it is that they avow them Schismaticks) would (as they conceive) involve them in the Schism also, as partakers there­of in some degree with the other: And their Consciences also would, from Rom. 14.22. condemn them either of hypocrisie, in allowing that in them­selves, and in their own practice, which they condemn in others; or of uncharitableness, in judging others as Schismaticks for doing but the same thing which they can allow themselves to practise. For all that such persons, as they call Schisma­ticks, do in this matter of the Church Service, is but to leave out the Churches Prayers, and to put in their own. Or say, this should not make them really guilty of the Schism they so much detest, yet would such their symbolizing with them seem at least a kind of unworthy compli­ance with them, more than could well become the simplicity of a Chri­stian, [Page 39] much less of a Minister of the Gospel,1 Thess. 5. whose duty it is to shun even the least appear­ance of evil. Besides, that by so do­ing they should but confirm such men in their Schismatical Principles and Practice.

This Objection hath 3 Branches. To the first whereof I oppose the old saying, Duo cum faciunt idem, non est idem; which, although spoken quite to another purpose, yet is ve­ry capable of such a sense which will very well fit our present purpose al­so.

I Answer therefore in short. To do the same thing that Schismaticks do (especially in time of Confusion, and till things can be reduc'd unto better Order, and when men are ne­cessitated thereunto to prevent greater mischiefs) doth not neces­sarily infer a partaking with them in Schism, no, nor so much as proba­bly, unless it may appear upon pro­bable presumption otherwise, that it is done out of the same Schismati­cal [Page 40] Spirit, and upon such Schismati­cal Principles as theirs are.

The other two Branches (viz. That of seeming compliance with Schismaticks, and That of the ill use they make of it to confirm them in their Schism) do upon the matter fall in upon the aforesaid point of Scandal, and are in effect but the same Objection, only put into a new dress, and so have receiv'd their Answer already. And the only re­medy against both these Fears (as well that of Scandal, as this of Schism) is the same which was there prescrib'd, Even to give assurance to all men, by our carriage and behavi­our therein, that we do not lay aside Common Prayer of our own accord, or out of any dislike thereof, neither in contempt of our rightful Govern­ours, or of the Laws, nor out of a­ny base compliance with the Times, or unworthy Secular own ends, nor out of any Schismatical principles, seditious designs, or innovating hu­mour; but meerly enforc'd thereun­to [Page 41] by such a necessity, as we cannot otherwise avoid in order to the Glo­ry of God, and the Publick Good, for the preservation of our Families, our Flocks, and our Functions: And that with the good leave and al­lowance (as we have great reason to believe) of such as have power to dispense with us and the Laws in that behalf.

This if we shall do bonâ fide, and with our utmost endeavours, in sin­gleness of heart, and with godly discretion, perhaps it will not be e­nough to prevail with either the cen­sure of inconsiderate and inconside­rable persons, or the ill use that may be made of our Example, through the ignorance or negligence of some (scandalum pusillorum) or through the perversness and malice of others (scandalum pharisaeorum) as the Schools term them: But assuredly it will be sufficient in the sight of God, and the witness of our own hearts, and to the Consciences of charitable and considering men, [Page 42] to acquit us clear of all guilt, either of Scandal or Schism in the least de­gree. Which we may probably do by observing these ensuing, or such other like general Directions (The liberty of using such meet accom­modations, as the circumstances in particular Cases shall require, ever­more allowed and reserved). viz.

• 1. If we shall decline the compa­ny and society of known Schisma­ticks, not conversing frequently or familiarly with them, or more than the necessary affairs of life, and the rules of Neighbourhood and com­mon civility will require; especially not to give countenance unto their Church Assemblies, by our presence among them, if we can avoid it.
• 2. If we shall retain, as well in common discourse, as in our Ser­mons and holy Offices of the Church, the old Theological and Ecclesiasti­cal terms and forms of Speech, which have been generally received and used in the Churches of Christ, which the people are well acquaint­ed [Page 43] with, and are wholsome and sig­nificant, and not follow our new Ma­sters in that uncouth affected garb of Speech, or Canting Language rather (if I may so call it) which they have of late taken up, as the signal di­stinction and characteristical note of that, which in that their new Lan­guage they call The Godly Party, or Communion of Saints.
• 3. If in officiating we repeat not only the Lord's Prayer, the Creed, the ten Commandements, and such other passages in the Common Pray­er Book, as (being the very words of Scripture) no man can except a­gainst; but so much of the old Li­turgy besides, in the very words and syllables of the Book, as we think the Ministers of State in those parts wherein we live will suffer, and the Auditory, before whom we officiate, will bear; sith the Officers in all parts of the Land are not alike strict, nor the people in all Parishes alike disaffected in this respect.
• 4. If, where we must of necessity [Page 44] vary from the words, we yet fol­low the Order of the Book in the main parts of the holy Offices, re­taining the substance of the Pray­ers, and embellishing those of our own making, which we substitute into the place of those we leave out, with phrases and passages taken out of the Book in other places.
• 5. If, where we cannot safely mention the Particulars mentioned in the Book (as namely in praying for the King, the Queen, the Royal Progeny, and the Bishops) we shall yet use in our Prayers some such ge­neral terms, and other intimations devised for that purpose, as may suf­ficiently convey to the understand­ing of the people what our intenti­ons are therein, and yet not be sufficient to fetch us within the com­pass of the Ordinance.
• 6. If we shall in our Sermons take occasion now and then, where it may be pertinent, either to discover the weakness of the Puritan Principles and Tenets to the people; or to shew [Page 45] out of some passages and expressions in the Common Prayer, the conso­nancy of those Observations we have raised from the Text, with the Judg­ment of the Church of England: or to justifie such particular passages in the Letany, Collects, and o­ther parts of our Liturgy as have been unjustly quarell'd at by Pres­byterians, Independents, Anabap­tists, or other (by what Name or Title soever they are called) Pu­ritan Sectaries.

Thus have I freely acquainted you both with my practice and judg­ment in the Point propos'd in your Friend's Letter. How I shall be able to satisfie his or your judgment in what I have writ­ten, I know not; however, I have satisfied both your desire and his in writing, and shall rest

PAX ECCLESIAE.

ALL the Decrees of God are eternal, and his Counsels therein unsearchable. In E­ternals there is neither pri­us, nor posterius; and ergo consi­dered in themselves, and as they are in God, all the Decrees of God con­cerning the whole course of man's salvation, are simul & semel; and be­cause eternal, ergo also coeternal. Yet considered either in regard of their Objects, or respectively to our [Page 48] apprehensions, there must some or­der be conceived among them, whereby one may be said to be be­fore or after another ordine naturae, & ordine intelligendi. For as in or­der of nature the intention of the end is before the deliberation con­cerning the means, the causes be­fore the effect, the subject before the properties and accidents, &c. so we are not able to conceive of the De­crees of God, unless we rank them in some such order, as seemeth most agreeable to the condition of their proper objects; as ex. gr. those wherein the end, or cause, or sub­ject is decreed, to be ordine intelli­gendi before these, wherein are de­creed the means, effects, or acci­dents. But because the Counsels of God herein are incomprehensible and unsearchable to our weak and finite understandings, it hence cometh to pass,

• 1. That they who have the great­est serenity of natural understanding, and the largest measure of Divine [Page 49] Revelation withal, must yet confess the unfathomed depth of the judg­ments and ways of God, which are abyssus multa, rather to be admired than searched into; so as they are not to hope or look after such a way of opening these Mysteries, as shall be quietativa intellectus, so totally and absolutely, but that some diffi­culties will still remain, to make us cry out with St. Paul, O altitudo! Otherwise these great and hidden Mysteries of God should be no My­steries.
• 2. That men, who cannot con­tent themselves to be wise according to sobriety, whilst they have thought by searching into the Counsels of God, to bring the Mysteries of Faith within the comprehension of Rea­son, have become vain in their ima­ginations, and enwrapped them­selves unawares in perplexed and inextricable difficulties: for the un­winding themselvs where-from, they have been afterwards sometimes dri­ven to devise and maintain strange [Page 50] Opinions, of very perillous and noy­some consequence, which hatch been the original of most Heresies and Schisms in the Church.
• 3. That men also of sober Under­standings, & keeping within the due Bounds of their Gifts and Callings, yet by reason of the great difficul­ties of the things themselves, have much differed, and still will do in their Judgments and Opinions one from another, in the ordering of God's Decrees concerning man's Salvation, each man abounding in his own sense, and following that way which seemeth to him clogged with the least and fewest difficulties, ac­cording as he apprehendeth them; although perhaps in rei veritate, or at the least in the apprehension of another man, those very difficulties may be more and greater. Hence the many differences among the Protestants, between Lutherans and Calvinists; among the Romanists between the Iesuites and Domini­cans and each of these again sub­divided; [Page 51] concerning Predestination and Reprobation; the power of man's Free-will; the necessity, effi­cacy, and extent of Divine Grace; the concurrence of Grace with Free-will; the universality and applica­tion of Christ's Death, and some o­ther Points of like nature.

The Premisses considered, that a­mid, and notwithstanding all this variety of Opinions, there may yet be preserved in the Church the uni­ty both of Faith and Charity, these few things seem to me to be of profitable and important considera­tion.

1. That particular Churchs would be as tender as may be in giving their definitions and derminations in such Points as these; not astrict­ing those that live therein determi­nately either to the affirmative or negative, especially where there may be admitted a latitude of dis­senting without any prejudice done either to the Substance of the Ca­tholick Faith, or to the Tranquilli­ty [Page 52] of the Church, or to the Sal­vation of the Dissenter. In which respect the moderation of the Church of England is much to be commended, and to be preferred, not only before the Roman Church, which with unsufferable tyranny bindeth all her Children, upon pain of Damnation, to all her Deter­minarions, even in those Points, which are no way necessary to Sal­vation; but also before sundry other Reformed Churches, who have proceeded further this way than our Church hath done.

2. When by reason of the im­portant contentions and wranglings of Learned men in particular Chur­ches, about Points yet undetermin­ed therein, differences shall be so far prosecuted, as to come to open side­ings, and part-takings, and factions (as it happened in the Netherland Churches between the Remonstran­tes, & Contra-Remonstrantes) so as for the composing of the differ­ences, and the maintenance of the [Page 53] publick Peace and Tranquillity of the Church, it shall be needful for those Churches Synodically to de­termine something in those Points; that yet they would then also pro­ceed no farther in their determinati­ons, than the present necessity should enforce them; not requiring men (specially in points of lesser conse­quence) to give, and by Oath, sub­scription, or other like means, to witness their express positive assent to such determinations; but permit­ting them to enjoy their own private Opinions in their own private Bo­soms, so long as they keep them to themselves, and do not by venting them unseasonably, disquiet the peace of the Church therewith­al.

3. That Catechisms, for so much as they are intended for the instru­ction of Children and ignorant per­sons in the first Principles of Chri­stian Religion, should not be farced with School-points and private Te­nets; but contain only clear and un­doubted [Page 54] Truths, and such as are ne­cessary unto Christian Edification either in Faith or Life: The rest ei­ther altogether omitted, or but oc­casionally and sparingly touched at, and not positively, and doctrinally, and conclusively delivered before the Church have agreed upon them.

4. That private men would en­deavour for so much ingenuity, as

• 1. To other mens speeches and writings (especially where they in­tend to discourse but exotericè and popularly, not accurately and dog­maticè) to afford a favourable con­struction, without taking advantage at some excesses in modo loquendi, or exceptions at some improprieties and acyrologies, so long as they are Orthodox in the main Substance of their Discourse.
• 2. Not to obtrude any Tenet, as the received Doctrine of any parti­cular Church, which either is not expresly contained in the publick Confession of that Church, or doth [Page 55] not apparently result thence by di­rect and immediate consequence; though the wit of man make it seem at length, and by continuance of discourse to be probably deduced therefrom.
• 3. In their own Writings to ob­serve formam sanorum verborum, and to abstain not only from suspect­ed Opinions, but as much as may be also from phrases and speeches ob­noxious to ill construction. For first it is not enough, much less a thing to be gloried in, for a man to be a­ble by subtilty of wit to find loop-holes how to evade, and by colour­able pretences to make that, which through heat of passion, or violence of opposition hath fallen from him unadvisedly, to seem howsoever de­fensible: but he should have a care to suffer nothing to pass from him, whereat an ingenuous and dispassio­nate Adversary, though dissenting from him in Opinion, should yet have cause to take distaste or excep­tion. And besides, it were a thing [Page 56] of very dangerous consequence in the Church, if every man should be suffered freely to publish what­soever might by some strain of Wit be made capable of a good constructi­on, if of it self it sounded ill and suspiciously: For so Notions of Po­pish, or Puritanical, or other He­retical, Schismatical Opinions might unawares be conveyed into the minds, and impressions thereof in­sensibly wrought in the hearts of men, to the great damage of the Church, and prejudice to the Truth.
• 4. To acknowledge freely, and readily to revoke whatsoever either errour in re, or misprision in testi­monio, or exorbitancy in modo lo­quendi, hath passed from their Pen, when it shall be fairly shewed them, and their Judgments convinced thereof, rather than to seek to re­lieve themselves by excuses, colours, or evasions.
• [Page 57]5. That private men in particu­lar Churches, who dissent in points yet undetermined by the Church, should not uncharitably entercharge each other with Heresie or Schism, or any such like imputation for so dissenting, so long as they both consent to the whole Doctrine and Discipline in the said Church main­tained and established. As ex. gr. in the Points now so much debated among the Divines of the Church of England between the Calvinists and Arminians (for I must take liberty for distinctions sake to express them by those names they usually bestow the one upon the other) Why should either those men on the one side be branded with Popery, who misliking Calvin's Opinion, rather chuse to follow the Arminian; or those on the other side with Puritanism, who finding less satisfaction in the way of Arminius, rather adhere to Cal­vin? so long as both the one and the other do entirely, and freely, and ex animo subscribe to the Articles of [Page 58] the Common Prayer Book, and that of Consecration, and do not rent the Unity, or disturb the Peace of the Church by those differences.

Bishop Sanderson's JUDGMENT IN ONE VIEW.

Quest. HOW far we may in­dulge good and godly men of tender Consci­ences dissenting from us in liberty of Conscience.

Answ. First, besides that all par­ties pretend to godliness, Papists, [Page 88] Anabaptists, and what not? (even the late sprung up generation of Le­vellers, whose principles are so de­structive of all that order and justice by which publick societies are sup­ported, do yet style themselves, as by a kind of peculiarity, The Godly:) And that secondly, it is the easiest thing in the world, and nothing more common, than for men to pre­tend conscience when they are not minded to obey. I do not believe thirdly (though I am well perswa­ded of the godliness of many of them otherwise) that the refusal of indifferent Ceremonies enjoyned by lawful authority, is any part of their godliness; or any good fruit, evi­dence, or sign thereof. But certain it is fourthly, that the godliest men are men, and know but in part; and by the power of godliness in their hearts, are no more secured from the possibility of falling into errour through ignorance, than from the possibility of falling into sin through infirmity. And as for tenderness of [Page 89] Conscience fifthly, a most gracious blessed fruit of the holy Spirit of God, where it is really, and not in pretence only, nor mistaken, (for sure it is no very tender Conscience, though sometimes called so, that straineth at a Gnat, and swalloweth a Camel:) it is with it, as with o­ther tender things, very subject to receive harm, and soon put out of order. Through the cunning of Sa­tan, it dangerously exposeth men to temptations on the right hand; and through its own aptitude to enter­tain and to cherish unnecessary scru­ples, it strongly disposeth them to li­sten thereunto so long, till at the last they are overcome thereof. Need­ful it is therefore, that in the publick teaching the errours should be some­times refuted, and the temptations discovered: And this ever to be done seasonably, soberly, discreetly, and convincingly; and when we are to deal with men whose Consciences are (so far as we can discern) truly ten­der, with the spirit of meekness and [Page 90] compassion. For tender things must be tenderly dealt withal, or they are lost. I know it is not al­ways so done; nor can we expect it should. All preachers are neither so charitable, nor so prudent, nor so conscientious as they should be: And they that are such in a good measure are men still; and may be transport­ed now and then through passion and infirmity, beyond the just bounds of moderation.

Quest. Whether good men should be suspended from the exercise of their ministry, and deprived of their live­lyhood for Ceremonies, which are on all hands acknowledged indifferent: and indeed in comparison to the work of the ministry are but trifles, however some men dote on them?

Answ. Let Ceremonies (secondly) be as very trifles, as any man can i­magine them to be; yet obedience sure is no trifle. They mis-state the Question, when they talk of pressing Ceremonies. It is obedience (for­mally) [Page 91] that is required: Ceremonies not otherwise pressed, than as the matter wherein that obedience is to be exercised. If a master appoint his servant to do some small matter that he thinketh fit to have done, though in it self of no great mo­ment; yet he will expect to be o­beyed: and it is great reason he should. If in such case the servant should re­fuse to do the thing appointed, be­cause he hath no mind thereunto; and should receive a check or corre­ction for such refusal: could he either sufficiently excuse his own fault, or reasonably complain of his master for dealing hardly with him, by say­ing the thing was but a trifle? Is it not evident, that the thing which made the master angry, and the ser­vant an offender in that case, was not (precisely and formally) the leaving of the thing undone, (which, had it not been commanded, might have been left undone without any fault or blame at all;) but the refusing to do it, when he that had a right to his [Page 92] service commanded him? Wherefore thirdly, that which is said of some mens doting so extremely on Cere­monies, might have been well e­nough spared. I know no true Son of the Church of England, that do­teth upon any Ceremony, whatsoever opinion he may have of the decency or expediency of some of them. If any do, let him answer for himself. Among wise men, he will hardly pass for a wise man, that doteth upon a­ny. Nor will he, I doubt, prove a much wiser man, that runs into the contrary extreme, and abhorreth all. It is true fourthly, that there have been long and unkind quarrels about these things; More is the pity! but where is the fault? To whom is the beginning, and to whom the conti­nuance of a quarrel rather imputa­ble? to him that demandeth his right? or to him that withholdeth it from him? For this is the plain Case in short; The Bishops (under the King) require obedience to the Laws Ec­clesiastical; these men refuse to give [Page 93] it. So began the quarrel at first, and upon the same terms it continued. If the Obedience challenged were in­deed due to these Laws, then did our Brethren both begin the quarrel, and hold it on: if it were not, then must the whole blame lie upon them that claimed it unjustly, and not upon them. So that in the winding up of the business, the whole Controversie will devolve upon this point, Whe­ther to the Laws Ecclesiastical obe­dience be due or not? For the right determining whereof (for so much as it is confest on all hands, that Obe­dience is due to lawful autority com­manding lawful things) two other points are to be resolved; the one cocerning the authority by which the Constitutions were made; the o­ther concerning the lawfulness of the things therein required: The Presbyterians of the Kirk flatly and directly deny both: Ours, less for­ward to declare their opinion in the former point, have chosen rather to stand upon the latter only. And so [Page 94] the point in issue is briefly this, Whe­ther the things commanded (and particularly the Ceremonies) be law­ful, yea or no.

When for decency, order, or uni­formities sake any Constitutions are made concerning Ceremonies, there is the same necessity of obeying such Constitutions, as there is of obeying other laws made for the good of the Commonwealth, concerning any other indifferent things. That such necessity, either in the one or the other, ari­seth not properly from the authority of the immediate lawgiver; but from the Ordinance of God, who hath com­manded us to obey the Ordinance of men for his sake. That such necessi­ty of obedience, notwithstanding the things remain in the same indiffe­rency as before; every way, in respect of their nature and quoad rem (it being not in the power of accidental relations to change the natures of things) and even in respect of their use, and quoad nos, thus far, that there is a liberty left for men, upon extraordinary and other just occasi­ons, [Page 95] sometimes to do otherwise than the Constitution requireth, extra ca­sum scandali & contemptûs: A li­berty which we dare not either take our selves, or allow to others, in things properly and absolutely neces­sary: Upon which very account (I mean the consideration of the indif­ferency of the things in themselves) and upon which account alone it is, that many of the Episcopal (that is to say, the true English Protestant) Divines, who sadly resent the voting down of the Liturgy, Festivals, and Ceremonies of the Church by so ma­ny former Laws established, heartily desired heretofore the continuance, and as heartily still wish the restitu­tion, and are (by God's help) rea­dy with their Tongues, Pens, and Sufferings to maintain and justifie the lawful use of the same; do yet so far yield to the sway of the times, and are perswaded they may with a good Conscience so do, as to forbear the use thereof in the publick wor­ship, till it shall seem good to those [Page 96] that are in place of Authority, either to restore them to their former state (as it is well hoped, when they shall have duly considered the evil conse­quents of that Vote, they will) or at leastwise, and in the mean time to leave them arbitrary, for men, ac­cording to their several different judgments, to use or not to use, which seemeth but reasonable, the like favour and liberty in other kinds having been long allowed to almost all other sorts of men, though of ne­ver so distant perswasions one from another. Lastly, That all Laws made concerning Ceremonies or o­ther indifferent things, whether Ci­vil or Ecclesiastical, are mutable: and as they were at first made by hu­mane authority, so may they from time to time be by humane authori­ty abrogated and repealed. And then and thenceforth they lose their obli­gation, whereby the necessity of yield­ing obedience thereunto wholly ceaseth and determineth; and the things thereby commanded or prohi­bited [Page 97] return to their primitive and natural indifferency, even in their use also, and in respect of us.

But in the Case of our Church now it is far otherwise: Cap, Surplice, Cross, Ring, and other Ceremonies, which are the matter of our differ­ences, though they be things indif­ferent for their nature, and in them­selves; yet are not so for their use, and unto us. If the Church had been silent, if Authority had prescribed nothing herein, these Ceremonies had then remained for their use, as they are for their nature, indifferent, Lawful, and such as might be used without sin; and yet Arbitrary, and such as might be also forborn with­out sin. But men must grant (though they be unwilling, if yet they will be reasonable) that every particular Church hath power for decency and orders sake, to ordain and constitute Ceremonies: which being once or­dained, and by publick Authority enjoyned, cease to be indifferent for their use, though they remain still so [Page 98] for their nature; and of indifferent become so necessary, that neither may a man without sin refuse them, where Authority requireth, nor use them, where Authority restraineth the use.

Neither is this accession of necessi­ty any impeachment to Christian Liberty, or insnaring of mens Con­sciences, as some have objected: For then do we ensnare mens Conscien­ces by humane constitutions, where we thrust them upon men as if they were Divine, and bind mens Con­sciences to them immediately, as if they were immediate parts of God's worship, or of absolute necessity unto Salvation. This Tyranny and Vsur­pation over mens Consciences the Pharisees of old did, and the Church of Rome at this day doth exercise, and we justly hate in her, equalling, if not preferring her Constitutions to the Laws of God. But our Church (God be thanked) is far from any such impious presumption; and hath sufficiently declared her self by so­solemn [Page 99] protestation, enough to sa­tisfie any ingenuous impartial judg­ment, that by requiring obedience to these ceremonial constitutions, she hath no other purpose, than to re­duce all her children to an orderly conformity in the outward worship of God; so far is she from seeking to draw any opinion, either of divine necessity upon the constitution, or of effectual holiness upon the ceremony. And as for the prejudice which seem­eth to be hereby given to Christian liberty, it is so slender a conceit, that it seemeth to bewray in the obje­ctors a desire, not so much of satis­faction, as cavil. For first, the li­berty of a Christian to all indifferent things is in the mind and conscience, and is then infringed, when the con­science is bound and strained, by imposing upon it an opinion of do­ctrinal necessity. But it is no wrong to the Liberty of a Christian man's conscience, to bind him to outward observation for orders sake, and to impose upon him a necessity of Obe­dience. [Page 100] Which one distinction of Doctrinal and Obediential necessity well weighed, and rightly applied, is of it self sufficient to clear all doubts in this point. For, to make all restraint of the outward man in matters indifferent an impeachment of Christian liberty, what were it else, but even to bring flat Anabap­tism and Anarchy into the Church? and to overthrow all bond to subje­ction and obedience to lawful autho­rity? I beseech you consider, where­in can the immediate power and au­thority of Fathers, Masters, and o­ther Rulers over their inferiours consist, or the due obedience of in­feriours be shewn towards them, if not in these indifferent and arbitra­ry things? For, things absolutely ne­cessary, as commanded by God, we are bound to do, whether human Au­thority require them or no: and things absolutely unlawful, as pro­hibited by God, we are bound not to do, whether humane Authority forbid them or no. There are none [Page 101] other things left then, wherein to express properly the Obedience due to superiour Authority, than these in­different things. And if a Father or Master have power to prescribe to his child or servant in indifferent things, and such restraint be no way prejudicial to Christian liberty in them, why should any man, either deny the like power to Church Go­vernours, to make Ecclesiastical con­stitutions concerning indifferent things? or interpret that power to the prejudice of Christian liberty? And again, secondly, Men must un­derstand, that it is an errour to think Ceremonies and Constitutions to be things meerly indifferent; I mean in the general. For howsoever every particular Ceremony be indifferent, and every particular constitution ar­bitrary and alterable; yet that there should be some Ceremonies, it is ne­cessary necessitate absoluta, inasmuch as no outward work can be perform­ed without ceremonial circumstan­ces, some or other: and that there [Page 102] should be some constitutions concern­ing them, it is also necessary (though not simply and absolutely, as the for­mer, yet ex hypothesi, and) necessitate convenientiae: Otherwise, since some Ceremonies must needs be used, every Parish, may every man would have his own fashion by himself, as his humour led him, whereof what other could be the issue, but infinite distraction and unorderly confusion in the Church? And again, thirdly, to return their weapon upon them­selves, if every restraint in indiffe­rent things be injurious to Christian liberty, then themselves are injuri­ous, no less by their negative re­straint from some Ceremonies, Wear not, Cross not, Kneel not, &c. than they would have the world believe our Church is by her positive re­straint unto these Ceremonies of wearing, and crossing, and kneeling, &c. Let indifferent men judge, nay let themselves that are parties judge, whether is more injurious to Chri­stian Liberty, publick Authority by [Page 103] mature advice commanding what might be forborn, or private spirits, through humorous dislikes, forbid­ding what may be used; the whole Church imposing the use, or a few Brethren requiring the forbearance of such things as are otherwise and in themselves equally indifferent for use, for forbearance.

But they say, our Church makes greater matters of ceremonies than thus, and preferreth them even be­fore the most necessary duties of preaching and administring the Sa­craments; inasmuch as they are im­posed upon Ministers under pain of Suspension and Deprivation from their Ministerial Functions and Char­ges. First, for actual Deprivation, I take it, unconforming Ministers have no great cause to complain. ‘Our Church, it is well known, hath not always used that rigour she might have done. Where she hath been forced to proceed as far as Depri­vation, she hath ordinarily by her fair, and slow, and compassionate [Page 104] proceeding therein, sufficiently manifessed her unwillingness thereto:’ and declare her self a Mother everyway indulgent enough to such ill-nurtured Children as will not be ruled by her. Secondly, those that are suspended or deprived, suffer it but justly for their obstinacy and contempt: For, howsoever they would bear the world in hand, that they are the only persecuted ones, and that they suffer for their consci­ences; yet in truth they do but abuse the credulity of the simple therein; and herein (as in many other things) jump with the Papists, whom they would seem above all others most abhorrent from. For as Seminary Priests and Iesuits give it out that they suffer for Religion, when the very truth is, they are justlty execu­ted for their prodigious Treasons, and felonious or treacherous practices a­gainst lawful Princes and Estates: So the Brethren pretend they are per­secuted for their consciences, when they are indeed but justly censured [Page 105] for thier obstinate and pertinacious contempt of lawful authority. For it is not the refusal of these Ceremo­nies they are deprived for, otherwise than as the matter wherein they shew their contempt: It is the con­tempt it self, which formerly and properly subjecteth them to just Ec­clesiastical censure of Suspension or Deprivation. And contempt of au­thority, though in the smallest mat­ter, deserveth no small punishment; all authority having been ever soli­citous (as it hath good reason) above all things to vindicate and preserve it self from contempt, by inflicting sharp punishments upon contemptu­ous persons in the smallest matters, above all other sorts of offenders in any degree whatsoever. Thus have we shewed and cleared the first and main difference betwixt the case of my Text, and the case of our Church, in regard of the matter; the things whereabout they differed, being e­very way indifferent, ours not so.

[Page 106]The determination of Superiours may and ought to restrain us in the outward exercise of our Christian liberty. We must submit our selves to every Ordinance of man, saith St. Peter, 1 Pet. 2. 13. and it is neces­sary we should do so; for so is the will of God, ver. 15. Neither is it against Christian liberty if we do so; for we are still as free as before: ra­ther if we do not so, we abuse our liberty for a cloak of maliciousness, as it followeth there, ver. 16. And St. Paul telleth us we must needs be subject, not only for fear, because the Magistrate carrieth not the Sword in vain; but also for conscience sake, because the powers that are, are or­dained of God. This duty, so ful­ly pressed and so uniformly by these two grand Apostles, is most apparent in private societies. In a family, the Master, or pater familias, who is a kind of petty Monarch there, hath authority to prescribe to his chil­dren and servants in the use of those indifferent things whereto yet they, [Page 107] as Christians, have as much liberty as he. The servant, though he be the Lord's free-man, yet is limited in his diet, lodging, livery, and many other things by his Master; and he is to submit himself to his Master's appointment in these things, though perhaps in his private affection he had rather his Master had appointed otherwise: and perhaps withal in his private judgment, doth verily think it fitter his Master should appoint o­therwise. If any man, under colour of Christian liberty, shall teach o­therwise, and exempt servants from the obedience of their Masters in such things; St. Paul in a holy in­dignation inveigheth against such a man, not without some bitterness, in the last Chapter of his Epistle, as one that is proud, and knoweth no­thing, as he should do, but doteth about questions and strife of words, &c. ver. 3, 5.

Now look what power the Master hath over his Servants for the or­dering of his family, no doubt the [Page 108] same at the least, if not much more, hath the supreme Magistrate over his Subjects, for the peace of the Com­monwealth, the Magistrate being pater patriae, as the Master is pater familias. Whosoever then shall in­terpret the determinations of Magi­strates in the use of the Creatures to be contrary to the liberty of a Chri­stian; or under that colour shall ex­empt inferiours from their obedi­ence to such determinations; he must blame St. Paul, nay, he must blame the holy Ghost, and not us, if he hear from us that he is proud, and know­eth nothing, and doteth about unpro­fitable Questions. Surely, but that experience sheweth us it hath been so, and the Scriptures have foretold us that it should be so, that there should be differences, and sidings, and part-takings in the Church: A man would wonder how it should e­ver sink into the hearts and heads of sober understanding men, to deny either the power in Superiours to or­dain, or the necessity in Inferiours to [Page 109] obey Laws and Constitutions, so re­straining us in the use of the Cera­tures.

Neither let any man cherish his ignorance herein, by conceiting, as if there were some difference to be made between Civil and Ecclesiasti­cal Things, and Laws and Persons in this behalf. The truth is, our li­berty is equal in both; the power of Superiours for restraint equal in both, and the necessity of obedience in Inferiours equal to both. No man hath yet been able to shew, nor I think ever shall be, a real and sub­stantial difference indeed between them to make an inequality: But that still, as Civil Magistrates have sometimes, for just politick respects, prohibited some Trades, and Manu­factures, and Commodities, and en­joyned other some, and done well in both; so Church Governours may upon good considerations (say it be but for order and uniformities sake) prescribe the times, places, vest­ments, gestures, and other ceremo­nial [Page 110] circumstances to be used in Ec­clesiastical Offices and Assemblies: As the Apostles in the first Council holden at Ierusalem, in Acts 15. laid upon the Churches of the Gen­tiles for a time a restraint from the eating of blood, and things sacrificed to Idols, and strangled.

Thus we see our Christian liberty unto the Creatures may without prejudice admit of some restraints in the outward exercise of it, and namely from the three respects, of Christian Sobriety, of Christian Charity, and of Christian Duty and Obedience. But now in the com­paring of these together, when there seemeth to be a repugnancy between one and another of them, there may be some difficulty: and the greatest difficulty, and which hath bred most trouble, is in comparing the cases of scandal and disobedience together, when there seemeth to be a repug­nancy between Charity and Duty. As for example; Suppose in a thing which simply and in it self we may [Page 111] lawfully, according to the Liberty we have in Christ, either use or for­bear; Charity seemeth to lay re­straint upon us one way, our weak brother expecting we should for­bear, and Duty a quite contrary way, Authority requiring the use: in such a case what are we to do? It is a­gainst charity to offend a brother; and it is against Duty to disobey a superiour. And yet something must be done; either we must use, or not use; forbear, or not forbear. For the untying of this knot (which, if we will but lay things rightly toge­ther, hath not in it so much hardness as it seemeth to have) let this be our seventh Position. In the use of the Creatures, and all indifferent things, we ought to bear a greater regard to our publick Governours, than to our private Brethren; and be more careful to obey them, than to satisfie these, if the same course will not in some mediocrity satisfie both. Alas, that our Brethren, who are contrary minded, would but with [Page 112] the spirit of sobriety admit common Reason to be umpire in this case: Alas, that they would but consider what a world of contradictions would follow upon the contrary opi­nion, and what a world of confusions upon the contrary practice. Say what can be said in the behalf of a brother, all the same, and more may be said for a Governour: For a Go­vernour is a Brother too, and some­thing more; and Duty is Charity too, and something more. If then I may not offend my Brother, then certainly not my Governour; be­cause he is my brother too, being a man, And a christian, as well as the other is. And the same charity that bindeth me to satisfie another Bro­ther, equally bindeth me to satisfie this. So that, if we go no farther, but even to the common bond of charity, and relation of brother­hood, that maketh them equal at the least; and therefore no reason, why I should satisfie one that is but a private brother, rather than the [Page 113] publick magistrate, who (that pub­lick respect set aside) is my brother also. When the Scales hang thus e­ven, shall not the accession of magi­stracy to common brotherhood in him, and of Duty to common cha­rity in me, be enough to cast it clear for the magistrate? Shall a servant in a Family, rather than offend his fellow-servant, disobey his Master? And is not a double scandal against charity and duty both (for duty im­plieth charity) greater than a single scandal against charity alone? If pri­vate men will be offended at our obe­dience to publick Governours, we can but be sorry for it: We may not redeem their offence by our disobedi­ence. He that taketh offence where none is given, sustaineth a double person, and must answer for it, both as the giver and the taker. If of­fence be taken at us, there is no wo to us for it, if it do not come by us; Wo to the man by whom the offence cometh: And it doth not come by us, if we do but what is our duty to [Page 114] do. The Rule is certain and equita­ble; The respect of private scandal ceaseth, where lawful authority de­termineth our liberty; and that re­straint which proceedeth from speci­al duty, is of superiour reason to that which proceedeth but from common charity.

Quest. Whether the King and Parliament ought to impose any more upon us in matters of Religion, than is imposed in the Scripture? or whether every one ought not to be left to serve God according to his best apprehensions out of the Scrip­ture?

Answ. The Opinion is, that to do any thing at all without direction from the Scripture is unlawful and sinful. Which if they would under­stand only of the substantials of Gods worship, and of the exercises of Spi­ritual and supernatural graces, the assertion were true and sound; but as they extend it to all the actions of common life whatsoever, whether natural or civil, even so far as to the [Page 115] taking up of a straw, so it is altoge­ther false and indefensible. I mar­vel what warrant they that so teach have from the Scripture for that ve­ry Doctrine; or where they are com­manded so to believe or teach. One of their chiefest refuges is the Text we now have in hand; but I shall a­non drive them from this shelter. The other places usually alledged speak only, either of divine and su­pernatural truths to be believed, or else of works of grace or worship to be performed, as of necessity unto salvation; which is not to the point in issue. For it is freely conscised, that in things of such nature the holy Scripture is, and so we are to account it, a most absolute sufficient direction. Upon which ground we heartily re­ject all humane traditions, devised and intended as supplements to the doctrine of faith contained in the Bible, and annexed as Codicils to the holy Testament of Christ, for to supply the defects thereof. The question is wholly about things in [Page 116] their nature indifferent; such as are the use of our food, raiment, and the like, about which the common acti­ons of life are chiefly conversant: Whether in the choice and use of such things, we may not be some­times sufficiently guided by the light of reason and the common rules of discretion; but that we must be able (and are so bound to do, or else we sin) for every thing we do in such matters, to deduce our warrant from some place or other of Scrip­ture.

Before the Scriptures were writ­ ten, it pleased God by visions, and dreams, and other like revelations, immediately to make known his good pleasure to the Patriarchs and Prophets, and by them unto the People: which kind of revelations served them to all the same intents and purposes, whereto the sacred Scriptures now do us, viz. to instruct them what they should believe and do for his better service, and the fur­therance of their own salvations. [Page 117] Now as it were unreasonable for a­ny man to think, that they either had or did expect an immediate re­velation from God every time they eat, or drank, or bought, or sold, or did any other of the common acti­ons of life, for the warranting of each of those particular actions to their Consciences; no less unreason­able it is to think, that we should now expect the like warrant from the Scriptures for the doing of the like actions. Without all doubt the law of nature, and the light of reason, was the rule whereby they were guided for the most part in such mat­ters, which the wisdome of God would never have left in them or us, as a principal relick of his decayed image in us, if he had not meant that we should make use of it for the direction of our lives and actions thereby. Certainly God never in­fused any power into any creature, whereof he intended not some use. Else, what shall we say of the Indies and other barbarous Nations, to [Page 118] whom God never vouchsafed the lively Oracles of his written word? Must we think that they were left a lawless people, without any Rule at all whereby to order their actions? How then come they to be guilty of transgression? For where there is no law, there can be no transgression. Or how cometh it about that their consciences should at any time, or in any case, either accuse them, or ex­cuse them, if they had no guide nor rule to walk by? But if we must grant they had a Rule (and there is no way, you see, but grant it we must;) then we must also of necessi­ty grant, that there is some other Rule for humane actions besides the written word; for that we presup­posed these Nations to have wanted. Which Rule, what other could it be than the Law of Nature, and of right reason, imprinted in their hearts? Which is as truly the Law and Word of God, as is that which is printed in our Bibles. So long as our actions are warranted either by [Page 119] the one or the other, we cannot be said to want the warrant of God's Word: Nec differet Scriptura an ratione consistat, saith Tertullian; it mattereth not much from whe­ther of both we have our direction, so long as we have it from either.

You see then those men are in a great errour, who make the holy Scriptures the sole rule of all humane actions whatsoever. For the main­tenance whereof, there was never yet produced any piece of an argu­ment, either from reason, or from authority of holy writ, or from the testimony either of the ancient Fa­thers, or of other classical Divines of later times; which may not be clearly and abundantly answered, to the satisfaction of any rational man not extremely fore-possessed with prejudice. ‘They who think to salve the matter by this mitigati­on, that at leastwise our actions ought to be framed according to those general rules of the law of Nature, which are here and there [Page 120] in the Scriptures dispersedly con­tained (as viz. That we should do, as we would be done to; That all things be done decently and order­ly, and unto edification; That no­thing be done against conscience, and the like) speak somewhat in­deed to the truth, but little to the purpose. For they consider not, First, that these general rules are but occasionally and incidentally mentioned in Scripture, rather to manifest unto us a former, than to lay upon us a new obligation. Se­condly, that those rules had been of force for the ordering of mens actions, though the Scripture had never expressed them; and were of such force before those Scrip­tures were written, wherein they are now expressed. For they bind not originally qua scripta, but qua justa; becuase they are righteous, not because they are written. Thirdly, that an action conform­able to these general Rules might not be condemned as sinful, al­though [Page 121] the doer thereof should look at those rules meerly as they are the dictates of the law of na­ture; and should not be able to vouch his warrant for it from any place of Scripture, neither should have at the time of the doing thereof any present thought or consideration of any such place. The contrary whereunto, I permit to any man's reasonable judgment, if it be not desperately rash and uncharitable to affirm. Lastly, that if mens actions done agreea­bly to those Rules are said to be of faith, precisely for this reason, because those rules are contained in the word: then it will follow, that before those particular Scrip­tures were written, wherein any of those Rules are first delivered, every action done according to those rules had been done without faith (there being as yet no Scrip­ture for it) and consequently had been a sin. So that by this Do­ctrine it had been a sin (before the [Page 122] witing of S. Matthew's Gospel) for any man to have done to o­thers, as he would they should do to him; and it had been a sin (be­fore the writing of the former E­pistle to the Corinthians) for any man to have done any thing de­cently and orderly; supposing these two Rules to be in those two pla­ces first mentioned: because (this supposed) there could then have been no warrant brought from the Scriptures for so doing.’

‘Well then, we see the former Opinion will by no means hold, neither in the rigour of it, nor yet in the mitigation.’ We are there­fore to beware of it, and that so much the more heedfully, because of the evil consequents and effects that is­sue from it; to wit, a world of su­perstitions, uncharitable censures, bitter contentions, contempt of su­periours, perplexities of conscience. First, it filleth mens heads with ma­ny superstitious conceits, making them to cast impurity upon sundry [Page 123] things, which yet are lawful to as many as use them lawfully. For the taking away of the indifferency of any thing that is indifferent, is in truth superstition, whether either of the two ways it be done; either by requiring it as necessary, or by for­bidding it as unlawful. He that condemneth a thing as utterly un­lawful, which yet indeed is indif­ferent, and so lawful, is guilty of superstition, as well as he that en­joyneth a thing as absolutely neces­sary, which yet indeed is but indif­ferent, and so arbitrary. They of the Church of Rome, and some in our Church, as they go upon quite contrary grounds, yet both false; so they run into quite contrary errours, and both superstitious. They decline too much on the left hand, denying to holy Scripture that perfection which of right it ought to have; of containing all appertaining to that supernatural doctrine of faith and holiness, which God hath revealed to his Church for the attainment of e­verlasting [Page 124] salvation; whereupon they would impose upon Christian people, & that with an opinion of ne­cessity, many things which the Scrip­tures require not; and that is a superstition. These wry too much on the right hand, ascribing to the holy Scripture such a kind of perfecti­on as it cannot have; of being the sole directour of all humane actions whatsoever: whereupon they for­bid unto Christian people, and that under the name of sin, sundry things which the holy Scripture condem­neth not; and that is a superstition too.

From which superstition proceed­eth, in the second place, uncharitable censuring; as evermore they that are the most superstitious, are the most supercilious. No such severe censurers of our blessed Saviour's person and actions, as the superstiti­ous Scribes and Phariseees were. In this Chapter, the special fault, which the Apostle blameth in the weak ones (who were somewhat supersti­tiously [Page 125] affected) was their rash and uncharitable judging of their bre­thren. And common and daily ex­perience among our selves sheweth how freely some men spend their censures upon so many of their bre­thren, as without scruple do any of those things, which they upon false grounds have superstitiously condem­ned as utterly unlawful.

And then thirdly, as unjust cen­sures are commonly entertained with scorn and contumely; they that so liberally condemn their bre­thren of prophaneness, are by them again as freely slouted for their pre­ciseness: and so whiles both parties please themselves in their own ways, they cease not mutually to provoke and scandalize and exasperate one the other, pursuing their private spleens so far, till they break out in­to open contentions and oppositions. Thus it stood in the Roman Church, when this Epistle was written. They judged one another, and despised one another, to the great disturbance of [Page 126] the Churches peace, which gave oc­casion to our Apostles whole dis­course in this Chapter. And how far the like censurings and despisings have embittered the spirits, and whetted both the tongues and pens of learned men one against another in our own Church; the stirs that have been long since raised, and are still upheld by the factious opposers a­gainst our Ecclesiastical constituti­ons, government, and ceremonies, will not suffer us to be ignorant. Most of which stirs, I verily perswade my self, had been long ere this either wholly buried in silence, or at least­wise prettily well quieted, if the weakness and danger of the errour whereof we now speak, had been more timely discovered, and more fully and frequently made known to the world than it hath been.

Fourthly, Let that Doctrine be once admitted, and all humane au­thority will soon be despised. The commands of Parents, Masters, and Princes, which many times require [Page 127] both secrecy and expedition, shall be taken into slow deliberation, and the equity of them sifted by those that are bound to obey, though they know no cause why, so long as they know no cause to the contrary. De­licata est obedientia, quae transit in causam deliberativam. It is a nice obedience in St. Bernard's judgment, yea rather troublesome and odious, that is over-curious in discussing the commands of superiours, boggling at every thing that is enjoyned, re­quiring a why for every wherefore, and unwilling to stir until the law­fulness and expediency of the thing commanded shall be demonstrated by some manifest reason or undoubt­ed authority from the Scriptures.

Lastly, The admitting of this Do­ctrine would cast such a snare upon men of weak judgments, but tender consciences, as they should never be able to unwind themselves again. Mens daily occasions for themselves or friends, and the necessities of com­mon life, require the doing of a [Page 128] thousand things within the compass of a few days, for which it would puzzle the best Textman that liveth, readily to bethink himself of a sen­tence in the Bible, clear enough to satisfie a scrupulous conscience of the lawfulness and expediency of what he is about to do; for which, by hearkening to the rules of reason and discretion, he might receive easie and speedy resolution. In which cases if he should be bound to suspend his resolution, & delay to do that which his own reason would tell him were presently needful to be done, until he could haply call to mind some pre­cept or example of Scipture for his warrant, what stops would it make in the course of his whole life? what languishings in the duties of his cal­ling? how would it fill him with doubts and irresolutions, lead him into a maze of uncertainties, entan­gle him in a world of woful perplex­ities, and (without the great mer­cy of God, and better instruction) plunge him irrecoverably into the [Page 129] gulph of despair? Since the chief end of the publication of the Gospel is to comfort the hearts, and to re­vive and refresh the spirits of God's people, with the glad tidings of li­berty from the spirit of bondage and fear, and of gracious acceptance with their God; to anoint them with the oyl of gladness, giving them beau­ty for ashes, and instead of sackcloth girding them with joy: we may well suspect that Doctrine not to be E­vangelical, which thus setteth the Consciences of men upon the rack, tortureth them with continual fears and perplexities, and prepareth them thereby unto hellish despair.

Quest. What are the dreadful con­sequences of scrupling some indiffe­rent things?

Answ. Although difference of judgment should not alienate our af­fections one from another, yet daily experience sheweth it doth. By rea­son of that self-love, and envy, and other corruptions that abound in us, it is rarely seen that those men are of [Page 130] one heart, that are of two minds. St. Paul found it so with the Romans in his time: whilst some condemned that as unlawful, which others pra­ctised as lawful; they judged one another, and despised one another, perpetually. And I doubt not, but any of us, that is any-whit-like ac­quainted with the wretched deceit­fulness of man's heart, may easily conclude how hard a thing it is (if at all possible) not to think some­what hardly of those men, that take the liberty to do such ‘things as we judge unlawful. As for example; If we shall judge all walking into the fields, discoursing occasionally on the occurrences of the times, dressing of meat for dinner or sup­per, or even moderate recreations on the Lord's day, to be grievous prophanations of the Sabbath; how can we chuse but judge those men that use them to be grievous pro­phaners of God's Sabbath? And if such our judgment concerning these things should after prove to [Page 131] be erroneous; then can it not be a­voided, but that such our judgment also concerning the persons must needs be uncharitable.’

Secondly, This mis-judging of things filleth the world with endless niceties and disputes, to the great disturbance of the Churches peace, which to every good man ought to be precious. The multiplying of Books and writings Pro and Con, and pur­suing of arguments with heat and opposition, doth rather lengthen than decide Controversies; and instead of destroying the old, begetteth new ones: whiles they that are in the wrong out of obstinacy will not, and they that stand for the truth out of Conscience dare not, may not yield; and so still the war goeth on.

And as to the publick peace of the Church, so is there also, thirdly, by this means great prejudice done to the peace and tranquillity of private mens Consciences; when by the per­emptory Doctrines of some strict and rigid masters the Souls of many a [Page 132] well-meaning man are miserably disquieted with a thousand unneces­sary scruples, and driven sometimes into very woful perplexities. Surely it can be no light matter thus to lay heavy burdens upon other mens shoulders, and to cast a snare upon their Consciences, by making the narrow way to Heaven narrower than ever God meant it.

Fourthly, Hereby Christian Go­vernours come to be robbed of a great part of that honour that is due unto them from their people, both in their affections and subjection. For when they shall see cause to exercise over us that power that God hath left them in indifferent things, by commanding such or such thing to be done, as namely, wearing of a Sur­plice, kneeling at the Communion, and the like: if now we in our own thoughts have already prejudged a­ny of the things so commanded to be unlawful, it cannot be.

[Page 133] Quest. If these things be so, how comes it to pass that so many godly men should incline so much to this way?

Answ. But you will say, if these things were so, how should it then come to pass that so many men pre­tending to godliness (and thousands of them doubtless such as they pre­tend; for it were an uncharitable thing to charge them all with hypo­crisie) should so often and so grie­vously offend this way? To omit those two more universal causes; Almighty God's permission first, whose good pleasure it is for sundry wise and gracious ends, to exercise his Church, during her warfare here, with heresies and scandals: And then the wiliness of Satan, who cunningly observeth whether way our hearts incline most, to loosness, or to strictness, and then frameth his temptations thereafter: So he can but put us out of the way, it is no great matter to him on whether hand it be; he hath his end howso­ever. [Page 134] Nor to insist upon sundry more particular causes; as namely, a na­tural proneness in all men to super­stition; in many an affectation of singularity, to go beyond the ordi­nary sort of people in something or other; the difficulty of shunning one without running into the con­trary extreme; the great force of education and custome; besides ma­nifold abuses, offences, and provoca­tions arising from the carriage of o­thers, and the rest; I shall note but these two only, as the two great foun­tains of Errour (to which also most of the other may be reduced) Igno­rance and Partiality; from neither of which God's dearest Servants and Children are in this life wholly ex­empted.

Ignorance first is a fruitful Mother of Errours; Ye err not knowing the Scriptures, Matth. 22. Yet not so much gross ignorance neither; I mean not that. For your meer Ig­naro's, what they err, they err for company; they judge not at all, nei­ther [Page 135] according to the appearance, nor yet righteous judgment: They only run on with the herd, and fol­low as they are led, be it right or wrong, and never trouble themselves farther. But by Ignorance I mean weakness of judgment, which con­sisteth in a disproportion between the affections and the understanding; when a man is very earnest, but with­al very shallow; readeth much, and heareth much, and thinketh that he knoweth much, but hath not the judgment to sever truth from fals­hood, nor to discern between a sound argument and a captious fal­lacy. And so for want of ability to examine the soundness and strength of those principles from whence he fetcheth his conclusions, he is easily carried away, as our Apostle else­where speaketh, with vain words and empty arguments. As St. Augu­stine said of Donatus, Rationes ar­ripuit, he catcheth hold of some reasons (as wranglers will catch at a small thing, rather than yield from [Page 136] their opinions) quas considerantes, verisimiles esse potius quam veras invenimus, which saith he, we found to have more shew of probabi­lity at the first appearance, than sub­stance of truth after they were well considered of.

And I dare say, whosoever shall peruse with a judicious and unpartial eye most of those Pamphlets, that in this daring Age have been thrust into the world against the Ceremo­nies of the Church, against Episco­pal Government (to pass by things of lesser regard and usefulness, and more open to exception and abuse, yet, so far as I can understand, unjust­ly condemned as things utterly un­lawful; such as are lusorious lots, dancing, Stage-plays, and some o­ther things of like nature) when he shall have drained out the bitter in­vectives, unmannerly jeers, petu­lant girding at those that are in au­thority, impertinent digressions, but above all those most bold and perverse wrestings of holy Scrip­ture, [Page 137] wherewith such Books are in­finitely stuffed, he shall find that lit­tle poor remainder that is left be­hind to contain nothing but vain words and empty arguments. For when these great Undertakers have snatch'd up the Bucklers, as if they would make it good against all comers, that such and such things are utterly unlawful, and therefore ought in all reason and conscience to bring such proofs as will come up to that conclusion, Quid dignum tanto? very seldome shall you hear from them any other Arguments, than such as will conclude but an inexpe­diency at the most. As, that they are apt to give scandal; that they carry with them an appearance of e­vil; that they are often occasions of sin; that they are not commanded in the Word, and such like. Which Objections, even where they are just, are not of force (no not taken alto­gether, much less any of them sin­gly) to prove a thing to be utterly unlawful. And yet are they glad [Page 138] many times, rather than sit out, to play very small Game, and to make use of Arguments yet weaker than these, and such as will not reach so far as to prove a bare inexpediency: As, that they were invented by Hea­thens; that they have been abused in Popery, and other such like: which, to my understanding, is a ve­ry strong presumption, that they have taken a very weak cause in hand, and such as is wholly destitute of sound proof.

Quest. Whether what the King and Parliament have determined may be altered to satisfie private men?

Answ. While things are in agita­tion, private men may, if any thing seem to them inexpedient, modestly tender their thoughts, together with the reason thereof, to the considera­tion of those that are in authority, to whose care and wisdom it belong­eth, in prescribing any thing con­cerning indifferent things, to pro­ceed with all just advisedness and [Page 139] moderation, that so the Subject may be encouraged to perform that obe­dience with chearfulness, which of necessity he must perform howsoe­ver. It concerneth Superiours there­fore to look well to the expediency and inexpediency of what they en­joyn in indifferent things; wherein if there be a fault, it must lie upon their account; the necessity of obedi­ence is to us a sufficient discharge in that behalf. Only it were good we did remember, that they are to give up that account to God only, and not to us. But after that things are once concluded and established by publick Authority, Acts passed, and Consti­tutions made concerning the same, and the will and pleasure of the high­er powers sufficiently made known thererein; then for private men to put in their vie, and with unseasona­ble diligence to call in question the decency or expediency of the things so established, yea with intolerable pride to refuse obedience thereunto meerly upon this pretension, that [Page 140] they are undecent or inexpedient, is it self the most indecent and inex­pedient thing that can be imagined.

For that the fear of offending a private brother, is a thing not con­siderable in comparison of the duty of obedience to a publick Governour, might be shown so apparently by sundry arguments, if we had time to enlarge and illustrate them, as might sufficiently convince the judg­ment of any man not wilfully obsti­nate in that point. I shall only crave leave briefly to touch at some of them.

First then, when Governours shall have appointed what seemed to them expedient, and private men shall refuse to observe the same, pre­tending it to be inexpedient, who shall judge thereof? Either they themselves that take the exceptions must be judges, which is both un­reasonable and preposterous; or else every man must be his own judge, which were to overthrow all Go­vernment, and to bring in a confusi­on, [Page 141] every man to do what is good in his own eyes; or else the known Go­vernours must judge, and then you know what will follow, even to sub­mit and obey.

Secondly, To allow men, under the pretence of inexpediency, and be­cause of some offence that may be ta­ken thereat, to disobey Laws and Constitutions made by those that are in Authority, were the next way to cut the sinews of all Authority, and to bring both Magistrates and Laws into contempt. For what Law ever was made, or can be made so just and so reasonable, but some man or other either did, or might take offence thereat: And what man that is disposed to disobey, but may pretend one inexpediency or other, wherewith to countenance out such his disobedience?

Thirdly, It is agreed by consent of all that handle the matter of Scan­dal, that we may not commit any sin whatsoever, be it never so small, for the avoiding of any scandal, be it [Page 142] never so great: But to disobey law­ful Authority in lawful things, is a sin against the fifth Commandment. Therefore we may not redeem a scandal by such our disobedience, nor refuse to do the thing command­ed by such Authority, whosoever should take offence thereat.

Fourthly, Though lawfulness and unlawfulness be not, yet expediency and inexpediency are (as we heard) capable of the degrees of more and less; and then in all reason, of two inexpedient things we are to do that which is less inexpedient, for the a­voiding of that which is more inex­pedient. Say then there be an in­expediency in doing the thing com­manded by Authority, when a bro­ther is thereby offended; is there not a greater inexpediency in not do­ing it, when the Magistrate is there­by disobeyed? Is it not more expe­dient and conducing to the common good, that a publick Magistrate should be obeyed in a just command, than that a private person should be [Page 143] gratified in a causless scruple?

Fifthly, When by refusing obedi­ence to the lawful commands of our Superiours, we think to shun the of­fending of one or two weak brethren, we do in truth incur thereby a far more grievous scandal, by giving offence to hundreds of others, whose Consciences by our disobedience will be emboldned to that, whereto cor­rupt nature is but too too prone, to affront the Magistrate, and despise the Authority.

Lastly, Where we are not able to discharge both, debts of justice are to be payed before debts of charity. Now the duty of obedience is debi­tum justitiae, and a matter of right; my Superiour may challenge it at my hands as his due, and I do him wrong if I withhold it from him. But the care of not giving offence is but debitum charitatis, and a matter but of courtesie. I am to perform it to my brother in love, when I see cause, but he cannot challenge it from me as his right; nor can justly [Page 144] say I do him wrong if I neglect it. It is therefore no more lawful for me to disobey the lawful command of a Superiour, to prevent thereby the offence of one or a few brethren, than it is lawful for me to do one man wrong, to do another man a cour­tesie withal; or than it is lawful for me to rob the Exchequer to re­lieve an Hospital.

I see not yet how any of these six Reasons can be fairly avoided; and yet (which would be consider­ed) if but any one of them hold good, it is enough to carry the cause; and therefore I hope there need be no more said in this matter. To con­clude then, for the point of practice (which is the main thing I aimed at in the choice of this Text, and my whole Meditations thereon) we may take our direction in these three Rules, easie to be understood and remembred, and not hard to be ob­served in our practice, if we will but bring our good wills thereunto.

[Page 145] First, If God command we must submit without any more ado, and not trouble our selves about the ex­pediency, or so much as about the unlawfulness: for both, Abraham never disputed whether it were ex­pedient for him, nor yet whether it were lawful for him to sacrifice his Son or no, when once it appeared to him that God would have it so.

Secondly, If our Superiours, en­dued with lawful Authority there­unto, command us any thing, we may, and (where we have just cause of doubt) we ought to enquire into the unlawfulness thereof; yet not­with such anxious curiosity, as if we desired to find out some loop-hole whereby to evade, but with such modest ingenuity, as may witness to God and the World the unfeigned sincerity of our desires, both to fear God, and to honour those that he hath set over us. And if ha­ving used ordinary moral diligence, bonâ fide, to inform our selves the best we can, there appear no unlaw­fulness [Page 146] in it, we are then also to sub­mit and obey without any more ado, never troubling our selves farther to enquire whether it be expedient, yea or no. Let them that command us look to that; for it is they must an­swer for it, and not we.

But then thirdly, where Autho­rity hath left us free, no command, either of God, or of those that are set ever us under God, having pre­scribed any thing to us in that be­half, there it is at our own liberty, and choice to do as we shall think good. Yet are we not left so loose, as that we may do what we list, so as the thing be but lawful (for that were licenciousness, and not liberty;) but we must ever do that, which ac­cording to the exigence of present circumstances (so far as all the wis­dome and charity we have will serve us to judge) shall seem to us most ex­pedient and profitable to mutual edi­fication. This is the way; God give us all grace to walk in it: so shall we bring glory to him, and to our selves [Page 147] comfort: so shall we further his work onward, and our own account at the last.

Quest. Whether they that have taken the Covenant may Renounce it?

Answ. Thirdly, Beware of en­gaging thy self to sin. It is a fearful thing when sin hath got a tie upon a man. Then is one properly in the snare of the Devil, when he hath him as it were in a string, and may lead him captive to what measure of presumption he will. And sun­dry ways may a man thus entangle himself; by a Verbal, by a Real, by a sinful Engagement. He shall do best to keep himself out of all these snares: but if once he be in, there is no way out again but one, even this, To loose his pledge, to break in sunder the bonds wherein he is tied, as Sampson did the green withs, and to cast a way those cords from him.

A man hath bound himself rashly by some promise, vow, or covenant, to do something he may not do, or [Page 148] not to do something he ought to do, he is now engaged in a sin; the De­vil hath got this tie upon him: And though his Conscience tell him he cannot proceed without sin, yet be­cause of his Vow, or his Oath, he is wilful, and must on. It was He­rod's Case for taking off the Bap­tist's head; it was against his Con­science to do it, for he knew he had not deserved it; yea, and it was a­gainst his mind too to do it; for the Text faith, he was exceeding sorry that his Neece should put him upon it. But yet, saith the story withal, for his Oath sake, and because the great ones about him should not say but the King would be as big as his word, he resolved it should be done, and gave commandment accordingly to have it done. This I call a Verbal Engagement.

Quest. Whether we English men may think our selves bound by the Solemn League and Covenant?

[Page 149] Answ. Without betraying the Li­berty, which by our Protestation we are bound, and in the third Article of this Covenant must swear, with our lives and fortunes to preserve. To which Liberty the imposition of a new Oath, other than is establish­ed by Act of Parliament, is expres­sed in the Petition of Right, and by the Lords and Commons in their Declarations acknowledged to be contrary.

3. Without acknowledging in the imposers a greater power than, for ought that appeareth to us, hath been in former times challenged; or can consist with our former Protesta­tion (if we rightly understand it) is sundry the most material branch­es thereof.

Neither, secondly, are we satisfi­ed, although the Covenant should not be imposed on us at all, but only recommended to us, and then left to our choice.

[Page 150]1. How we should in wisdom and duty (being Subjects) of our own accord and free will, enter into a Covenant, wherein he, whose Sub­jects we are, is in any wise concern­ed, without his consent, either ex­pressed or reasonably presumed. It being in his power (as we conceive) by the equity of the Law, Numb. 30. to annul and make void the same at his pleasure.

2. How we can (now that his Majesty hath by his publick Inter­dict sufficiently made known his pleasure in that behalf) enter into a Covenant, the taking whereof he hath expresly forbidden, without forfeiting that Obedience, which (as we are perswaded) by our natu­ral Allegiance and former Oaths we owe unto all such his Majesties Com­mands, as are not in our apprehen­sions repugnant to the will of God, or the positive Laws of this King­dom.

[Page 151] Quest. What shall a man do, that scruples in Conscience what Autho­rity enjoyns as unlawful.

Answ. But then thirdly, if the liberty of the agent be determined by the command of some superiour power to whom he oweth obedience, so as he is not now sui juris ad hoc, to do or not to do at his own choice, but to do what he is commanded: this one circumstance quite altereth the whole case, and now he is bound in Conscience to do the thing com­manded; his doubtfulness of mind, whether that thing be lawful or no, notwithstanding. To do that whereof he doubteth, where he hath free li­berty to leave it undone, bringeth upon him (as we have already shewn) the guilt of wilful trans­gression; but not so, where he is not left to his own liberty. And where lawful authority prescribeth in al­terutram partem, there the liberty ad utramque partem contradictio­nis is taken away, from so many as are under that Authority. If they [Page 152] that are over them have determined it one way, it is not thenceforth any more at their choice, whether they will take that way or the contrary: but they must go the way that is ap­pointed them, without gainsaying or grudging. And if in the deed done at the command of one that is endued with lawful Authority there be a sin, it must go on his score that requireth it wrongfully, not on his that doth but his duty in obeying. A Prince commandeth his Subjects to serve in his Wars; it may be the quarrel is unjust, it may be there may ap­pear to the understanding of the Subject great likely hoods of such in­justice, yet may the Subject for all that fight in that quarrel; yea, he is bound in Conscience so to do: nay, he is deep in disloyalty and treason if he refuse the service, whatsoever pretentions he may make of Consci­ence for such refusal. Neither need that fear trouble him, left he should bring upon himself the guilt of in­nocent blood; for the blood that is [Page 153] unrighteously shed in that quarrel, he must answer for that set him on work, not he that spilt it. And truly it is a great wonder to me, that any man endued with understand­ing, and that is able in any measure to weigh the force of those precepts and reasons which bind inferiours to yield obedience to their superi­ours, should be otherwise minded in cases of like nature. Whatsoever is commanded us by those whom God hath set over us, either in Church, Commonwealth, or Fami­ly (Quod tamen non sit certum dis­plicere Deo, saith St. Bernard) which is not evidently contrary to the Law and will of God, ought to be of us received and obeyed no o­therwise, than as if God himself had commanded it, because God himself hath commanded us to obey the high­er powers, and to submit our selves to their ordinances. Say it be not well done of them to command it, Sed enim quid hoc refert tuâ? saith he, What is that to thee? Let them [Page 154] look to that whom it concerneth: Tolle quod tuum est, & vade. Do thou what is thine own part faith­fully, and never trouble thy self fur­ther. Ipsum, quem pro Deo habemus, tanquam Deum in his quae apertè non sunt contra Deum audire debemus; Bernard still. God's Vicegerents must be heard and obeyed in all things that are not manifestly con­trary to the revealed will of God.

But the thing required is against my conscience, may some say, & I may not go against my conscience for any mans pleasure. Judge I pray you what per­versness is this, when the B. Apostle commandeth thee to obey for Consci­ence sake, that thou shouldst disobey, and that for Conscience sake too: He chargeth thee upon thy Conscience to be subject, and thou pretendest thy Conscience to free thee from subje­ction. This by the way; now to the point. Thou sayest it is against thy Conscience; I say again, that (in the case whereof we now speak, the case of doubtfulness) it is not against thy Conscience: For doubting pro­perly [Page 155] is motus indifferens in u­tramque partem contradictionis, when the mind is held in suspence between two ways, uncertain whe­ther of both to take to; when the Scales hang even (as I said before) and in aequilibrio, without any no­table propension or inclination to the one side more than to the other. And surely where things hang thus even, if the weight of Authority will not cast the Scale either way, we may well suppose that either the Autho­rity is made very light, or else there is a great fault in the beam. Know (Brethren) the gainsaying Consci­ence is one thing, and the doubting Conscience another. That which is done repugnante conscientiâ, the Conscience of the doer flatly gain­saying it, that is indeed against a man's Conscience, the Conscience ha­ving already passed a definitive sen­tence the one way, and no respect or circumstance whatsoever can free it from sin. But that which is done dubitante conscientiâ, the Consci­ence [Page 156] of the doer only doubting of it, and no more; that is in truth no more against a man's Conscience than with it (the Conscience as yet not having passed a definitive sentence either way;) and such an action may either be a sin, or no sin, according to those qualifications which it may receive from other respects and cir­cumstances. If the Conscience have already passed a judgment upon a thing, and condemned it as simply unlawful; in that case it is true, that a man ought not by any means to do that thing, no not at the command of any Magistrate; no, not although his Conscience have pronounced a wrong sentence, and erred in that judgment; for then he should do it repugnante conscientiâ, he should go directly against his own Consci­ence, which he ought not to do what­soever come of it. In such a case certainiy he may not obey the Ma­gistrate; yet let him know thus much withal, that he sinneth too in disobeying the Magistate; from which [Page 157] sin the following of the judgment of his own Conscience cannot acquit him. And this is that fearful per­plexity whereof I spake, whereunto many a man casteth himself by his own errour and obstinacy, that he can neither go with his Conscience, nor against it, but he shall sin. And who can help it, if a man will needs cherish an errour, and persist in it? But now if the Conscience be only doubtful, whether a thing be lawful or no, but have not as yet passed a peremptory judgment against it (yea, although it rather incline to think it unlawful) in that case if the Magi­strate shall command it to be done, the Subject with a good Conscience may do it; nay, he cannot with a good Conscience refuse to do it, though it be dubitante conscien­tiâ.

But you will yet say, that in doubt­ful cases the safer part is to be cho­sen. So say I too; and am content that rule should decide this question; only let it be rightly applied. Thou [Page 158] thinkest it safer, where thou doubt­est of the unlawfulness, to forbear than to do: As for example, if thou doubtest whether it be lawful to kneel at the Communion, it is safest in thy opinion therefore for thee not to kneel. So should I think too, if thou wert left meerly to thine own liberty. But thou dost not consider how thou art caught in thine own net, and how the edge of thine own weapon may be turned upon thee point-blank, not to be avoided, thus.

If Authority command thee to kneel, which whether it be lawful for thee to do, or not, thou doubtest; it cannot choose but thou must needs doubt also, whether thou may­est lawfully disobey, or not. Now then here apply thine own Rule, In dubiis pars tutior, and see what will come of it. Judge, since thou canst not but doubt in both cases, whether it be not the safer of the two, to o­bey doubtingly, than to disobey doubtingly. Tene certum, demitte incertum, is St. Gregory his rule, [Page 159] where there is a certainty, and an uncertainty, let the uncertainty go, and hold to that which is certain. Now the general is certain, that thou art to obey the Magistrate in all things not contrary to the will of God; but the particular is un­certain, whether the thing now com­manded thee by the Magistrate be contrary to the will of God; (I say uncertain to thee, because thou doubtest of it.) Deal safely there­fore, and hold thee to that which is certain, and obey.

But thou wilt yet alledge, that the Apostle here condemneth the do­ing of any thing, not only with a gainsaying, but even with a doubt­ing Conscience, because doubting also is contrary to faith; and he that doubteth is even for that condemned, if he eat. O beware of misapply­ing Scripture! it is a thing easily done, but not so easily answered. I know not any one Gap that hath let in more, and more dangerous Er­rours into the Church, than this, [Page 160] That men take the word of the sa­cred Text, fitted to particular oc­casions, and to the condition of the times wherein they were written, and then apply them to themselves, and others, as they find them, with­out due respect had to the differen­ces that may be between those times and cases, and the present. Sundry things spoken of in Scripture agree­ably to that infancy of the Church, would sort very ill with the Church in her fulness of strength and sta­ture; and sundry directions very expedient in times of persecution, and when Believers lived mingled with Infidels, would be very un­seasonably urged, where the Church is in a peaceable and flourishing e­state, enjoying the favour, and li­ving under the protection of graci­ous and religious Princes. Thus the Constitutions that the Apostles made concerning Deacons and Widows in those primitive times, are with much importunity, but very impor­tunely withal, urged by the Disci­plinarians: [Page 161] And sundry other like things I might instance of this kind, worthy the discovery, but that I fear to grow tedious. Briefly then, the Apostles whole Discourse in this Chapter, and so wheresoever else he toucheth upon the point of Scandals, is to be understood only in that case where men are left to their own liberty in the use of in­different things: The Romans, Co­rinthians, and others to whom St. Paul wrote about these matters, being not limited any way in the exercise of their liberty therein by any over-ruling Authority. But where the Magistrates have inter­posed, and thought good upon ma­ture advice to impose Laws upon those that are under them, where­by their liberty is (not infringed, as some unjustly complain, in the inward judgment, but only) limit­ed in the outward exercise of it; there the Apostolical directions will not hold in the same absolute man­ner, as they were delivered to those [Page 162] whom they then concerned; but only in the equity of them, so far forth as the cases are alike, and with such meet qualifications and mitigations, as the difference of the cases otherwise doth require. So that a man ought not, out of private fancy, or meerly because he would not be observed for not do­ing as others do, or for any the like weak respects, to do that thing, of the lawfulness whereof he is not competently perswaded, where it is free for him to do otherwise; which was the case of these weak ones a­mong the Romans, for whose sakes principally the Apostle gave these directions. But the Authority of the Magistrates intervening so, al­ters the case, that such a forbear­ance as to them was necessary, is to as many of us as are command­ed to do this or that, altogether unlawful, in regard they were free, and we are bound, for the Reasons already shewn, which I now rehearse not. But you will [Page 163] yet say (for in point of obedience men are very loath to yield, so long as they can find any thing to plead) those that lay these burdens upon us, at leastwise should do well to satisfie our doubts, and to inform our Consciences concerning the lawfulness of what they enjoyn, that so we might render them o­bedience with better chearfulness. How willing are we sinful men to leave the blame of our miscarria­ges any where, rather than upon our selves! But how is it not in­congruous the while, that those men should prescribe rules to their Governours, who can scarcely brook their Governours should pre­scribe Laws to them? It were good we should first learn how to obey, ere we take upon us to teach our betters how to govern. How­ever, what Governours are bound to do, or what is fit for them to do in the point of information, that is not now the question. If they fail in any part of their [Page 164] bounden duty, they shall be sure to reckon for it one day; but their Iailing cannot, in the mean time, excuse thy disobedience. Although I think it would prove a hard task for whosoever should under­take it, to shew that Superiours are always bound to inform the Consciences of their Inferiours concerning the lawfulness of eve­ry thing they shall command. If sometimes they do it, where they see it expedient or needful; some­times again (and that perhaps oftner) it may be thought more expedient for them, and more conducible for the publick peace and safety, only to make known to the people what their pleasures are, reserving to themselves the Reasons thereof. I am sure, in the point of Ecclesiastical Ce­remonies and Constitutions (in which case the aforesaid Allegati­ons are usually most stood upon) this hath been abundantly done in our Church, not only in the [Page 165] learned writings of sundry private men, but by the publick declara­tion also of Authority, as is to be seen at large in the Preface commonly printed before the Book of Common Prayer, concerning that Argument, enough to satisfie those that are peaceable, and not disposed to stretch their wits to cavil at things established. And thus much of the second Question, touching a doubting Conscience; whereon I have insisted the long­er, because it is a point both so proper to the Text, and whereat so many have stumbled.

There remaineth but one other Question, and that of far smaller difficulty; What is to be done when the Conscience is scrupulous? I call that a scruple, when a man is reasonably well perswaded of the lawfulness of a thing, yet hath withal some jealousies and fears, lest perhaps it should [Page 166] prove unlawful. Such scruples are most incident to men of melan­choly dispositions, or of timorous Spirits, especially if they be ten­der conscienced withal; and they are much encreased by the false suggestions of Satan, by reading the Books, or hearing the Ser­mons, or frequenting the company of men more strict, precise, and austere in sundry points, than they need or ought to be; and by sundry other means which I now mention not. Of which scru­ples it behooveth every man, first, to be wary that he doth not at all admit them, if he can choose: Or if he cannot wholly avoid them, that, secondly, he endea­vour, so far as may be, to eject them speedily out of his thoughts, as Satan's snares, and things that may breed him worfer inconveni­encies: Or, if he cannot be so rid of them, that then, thirdly, he resolve to go on according to [Page 167] the more profitable perswasion of his mind, and despise those scru­ples. And this he may do with a good Conscience, not only in things commanded him by lawful Authority, but even in things in­different and arbitrary, and where­in he is left to his own liberty.

Reasons why the Vniversi­ty of Oxford cannot submit to the Covenant, the Negative Oath, the Ordinance concerning Discipline and Directory mentioned in the late Or­dinance of Parliament for the Visitation of that place.

WHereas by an Ordinance of the Lords and Commons as­sembled in Parliament, for the Vi­sitation [Page 170] and Reformation of the U­niversity of Oxford lately published, power is given to certain persons therein named as Visitors, to enquire concerning those of the said Univer­sity that neglect to take the Solemn League and Covenant, and the Ne­gative Oath being tendred unto them, and likewise concerning those that oppose the execution of the Ordinances of Parliament con­cerning the Discipline and Directo­ry, or shall not promote or cause the same to be put in execution, accor­ding to their several places and cal­lings, We the Masters, Scholars, and other Officers and Members of the said University, not to judge the Consciences of others, but to clear our selves before God and the world from all suspicion of Obstinacy, whilst we discharge our own, present to consideration the true reasons of our present Judgment concerning the said Covenant, Oath, and Ordi­nances; expecting so much Justice, and hoping for so much Charity, as [Page 171] either not to be pressed to conform to what is required in any the Pre­misses, further than our present Judg­ments will warrant us; or not con­demned for the refusing so to do, without clear and real satisfaction gi­ven to our just Scruples.