1. EDward, the only surviving Son of K. Henry VIII. was born at the Royal Palace of Hampton Court, Oct. 12. 1537. of Q. Jane Seymour the next wife to K. Henry after Anne Bollen. Some Ladies who had seen the Pictures of both Queens at Whitehal Gallery, have entertained no small dispute to which of the two they were to give preeminence in point of beauty; each of them having such a plentiful measure of perfecti­ons, as to entitle either of them to a superiority. If Q. Anne seemed to have the more lively coun­tenance, Q. Jane was thought to carry it in the [Page 2] exact symmetry, which shewed it self in all her features. Love which seemed to threaten in the eyes of Q. Jane, did only seem to sport it self in the eyes of Q. Anne. There was more Majesty in the garb of Q. Jane Seymour, and more lovely­nesse in that of Q. Anne Bo [...]en: yet so, that the Majesty of the one did excel in lovelinesse, and that the lovelinesse of the other did excel in Ma­jesty. In a word, Q. Jane had in her all the Graces of Q. Anne, but governed with an evener and more constant temper.

2. It hath been commonly reported and no less generally believed, that the child being come unto the birth, and there wanting natural strength to be delivered, his Mothers belly was ripped open to give him a passage into the world. But there are extant two several letters to evince the contrary. Though questionlesse, she had a very hard labour, which brought her first into a very high distemper, and after into a very great loos­nesse, which accelerated the approach of death, to the General lamentation, Novemb. 12.

3. The Prince having attained unto the age of six years was taken out of the hands of his women, and committed to the Tuition of Mr John Cheek (whom he afterwards Knighted, and advanced [Page 3] him to the Provost-ship of Kings Coll. in Cam­bridge) and Dr Richard Cox (whom afterwards he preferred to the Deanry of Westminster, and made chief Almoner.) These two being in Authority, employed themselves to his advantage in their several kinds; Dr Cox, for knowledge of Divi­nity, Philosophy and Gravity of Manners; Mr Cheek for Eloquence in the Greek and Latin Tongues. Besides which two, he had some others to instruct him in the modern languages, and thrived so well amongst them all, that in short time he perfectly spake the French tongue, and was able to expresse himself significantly enough in the Italian, Greek and Spanish. And as for the Latin, how early a Proficient he was therein (with reference to the times wherein he lived) is yet to be seen in some Latin [...]pistles of his written to the King and others, before he was eight years old.

4. For a Companion at his book, or rather for aproxy to bear the punishment of such errors as either through negligence or inadvertency were committed by him, he had one Barnaby Fitz­patrick. He had a very easie substitution of it. And, if it sometimes happened, as it seldom did, that the servant suffered punishment for his Ma­sters errors; it is not easie to affirm, whether Fitzpatrick smarted more for the fault of the Prince, or the Prince conceived more grief for [Page 4] the smart of Fitz-patrick. Certain it is, that the Prince entertaind such a real estimation of him, that when he came unto the Crown, he acquaint­ed him by letters with the sufferings of the Duke of Sommerset, instructed and maintained him for his travels in France, endowed him with fair lands in Ireland, his native Country; and finally made him Baron of upper Ossory: which ho­norable Title he enjoyed till the time of his death, in the later end of Q. Elizabeths raign; at which time he dyed a zealous and Religious Pro­testant.

5. One thing I must not pretermit to shew the extraordinary piety of this hopeful Prince in the daies of his childhood; when, being about to take down somewhat, which seemed to be above his reach, one of his servants proferd him a bossed plated Bible, to stand upon and heighten him: Which, when he perceived to be a Bible, with holy Indignation he refused to do; but took it, and kist it, and laid it in its place, sharply reprehending him that made the offer. A strong assurance of that dear esteem and vene­ration, in which he held that Sacred book in his riper years.

6. Having attained the Age of nine, there were great preparations made for his solemn Investiture in the principality of Wales: But scarce were the provisions ready, but the Kings sickness brought [Page 5] a stop, and His death shortly after put an end to those preparations; the expectation of a Princi­pality, being thereby changed to the possession of a Crown.

7. It cannot be denyed, but that King Henry left the Church, in many respects, in a better con­dition then he found it; not only in order to the Reformation of Religion, which none but such a masculin Prince durst have undertaken, but also in the policy and endowments of it. The Mona­steries and Religious Houses might possibly be lookt upon no otherwise, then as so many ex­crescences upon the body of the Church: but, Bishopricks being more essential to the Constitu­tion of the same, he did not onely preserve, as before he found them, but encrease their number. Six of the wealthier Monasteries he turned into Episcopal Sees, i. e. the Abbies of Westminster, [...]eterborough, Bristol, Glocester and Chester, with that of Ousney, for the See of the Bishop of Oxon; assigning to every new Episcopal See its Dean and Chapter, and unto every such Cathedral, a competent number of Quire-men and other offi­cers, all of them liberally endowed and provided for. And that the Church might be continually furnished with sufficient Seminaries; he foun­ded a Grammar School in every one of his Cathe­drals, either old or new, with Annual Pensions to the Master and some allowance to be made to the [Page 6] Children yearly; and ordained also, that in each of the two Universities there should be publick Readers, in the faculties of Divinity, Law and Physick, and in the Greek and Hebrew Tongues: all which he pensioned, and endowed with liberal Salaries, as the times then were. Besides which publick benefactions, he confirmed Cardinal Wol­sey's Colledge in Oxon, by the name of Kings Colledge first, and of Christ-Church afterwards; and erected that most beautifull pile of Trinity Colledge in Cambridge: Those being the two fairest, and most magnificent Foundations in the Christian World. And as for the polity of the Church, he settled it in such a manner, that Archbishops and Bishops might be chosen, con­secrated, and all the Subjects relieved in their Sutes and Grievances, without having such re­course to the Court of Rome, as formerly had drained the Realm of so much Treasure.

8. The Earl of Hartford (after, Duke of So­merset) the young Kings Uncle, is chosen Go­vernour of his Person, and Protector of his King­doms, till he should come to the Age of eighteen years. The Protector and other Grandees of the Court presently entertain some thoughts of a Re­formation. In which they found Arch-bishop Cranmer, and some other Bishops to be as forward as themselves: but, on different ends: endea­voured by the Bishops, in a pious zeal for recti­fying [Page 7] such things as were amiss in God's publick Worship▪ but by the Courtiers, on an hope to enrich themselves by the spoil of the Bishop­ricks.

9. Commissioners are sent forth into all parts of the Kingdom, armed with Instructions to en­quire into all Ecclesiastical Concernments, in the manner of a Visitation; directed by the King, as Supreme Head on Earth of the Church of England. Which Commissioners, being directed into seve­ral Circuits, were accompanied with certain learned and godly Preachers, appointed to in­struct the people, and to facilitate the work of the Commissioners in all Towns and Places, where they sate. And, that the people might not cool or fall off again, in, and from that which had been taught them by the learned Preachers, they were to leave some Homilies to the same effect with the Parish-Priests: which the Arch-bishop had composed; not only for the help of unpreaching Ministers, but for the regulating and enstructing even of learned Preachers. The Preachers were more particularly instructed to perswade the peo­ple from praying to Saints, from Adoring of Ima­ges, from praying in unknown Language, and some other like things whereunto long Custom had brought a Religious Observation. All which was done to this intent; That the people in all places being prepared by little and little, might [Page 8] with more ease and lesse opposition admit the to­tal Alteration in the face of the Church, which was intended in due time to be introduced. A­mong the Injunctions sent with the Commissio­ners were these following. viz. ‘That the laws for abolishing the Popes usurped Power be ob­served: That the people be exhorted to works of Faith, Mercy and Charity: That Images be taken down: That the Bible in English, and Erasmus Paraphrase be placed in the Church: That Ecclesiastical persons ptomoted give ex­hibitions to poor Scholars in the Universities: That no Ecclesiastical person haunt Ale-houses. That none preach without licence: That no Curate admit to the Communion such who are in malice with their Neighbours: That the Holy Day be wholly given to God, except in times of harvest: That Tithes be not detain­ed: That Priests be not abused, &c.’

10. The famous Preacher at Court was Father Latimer: who drew such multitudes of people after him to hear his Sermons; that being to preach before the King on the first Friday in Lent, it was thought necessary, that the Pulpit should be placed in the Kings Privy-garden, where he might be heard of more then four times as many Auditors, as could have thronged into the Chappel. In which place was erected afterwards a fixed and standing Pulpit for the like [Page 9] occasions: especially for Lent-Sermons on Sun­daies in the Afternoon: and hath so continued ever since, ti [...]l these later times.

11. In the second of his raign, An. 1548. his Majestie declared by Proclamation Septemb. 23. ‘That for the setling of an Uniformity and Or­der throughout his Realm; and for putting an end to all Controversies in Religion, He had caused certain Godly Bishops and other notable learned men to be Congregated, or called to­gether. And thereupon doth infer: That, notwithstanding many of the Preachers, for­merly licensed, had behaved themselves very discreetly and wisely, to the Honour of God and the contentation of his Highnesse: Yet till such time, as the said Order should be generally set forth throughout the Realm. His Majesty did thereby inhibit all manner of Persons, what­ever they be, to preach in open Audience, in the Pulpit or otherwise, by any sought colour or fraud, to the disobeying of his Command­ment. And this he did to the intent; That the Whole Clergy in the mean space might apply themselves to prayer to Almighty God for the better atchieving of this same Godly intent and purpose; Not doubting but that all his loving Subjects in the mean time would occupy themselves to Gods honour, with due prayer in the Church, and patient hearing of [Page 10] the Godly Homilies: and so endeavour them­selves, that they may be the more ready, with thankful Obedience to receive a most quiet, godly and uniform Order throughout all his Realms and Dominions.’

12. Here it is to be observed, That those who had the chief directing of this weighty bu­sinesse▪ were before hand reso [...]ved, that none but English heads or hands should be used therein: le [...]t otherwise it might be thought, and perhaps objected, That they rather followed the example of some other Churches, or were swayed by the Authority of those forein Assistants, then by the Word of God, and the most uncorrupted practice of the Primitive Times. And though it was thought necessary, for the better seasoning of the Universities in the Protestant Reformed Religion, that Martin Bucer and Peter Martyr, two emi­nent Divines of the forein Churches, should be invited to come over: yet we find neither of them here, till the end of November (1548) when the Liturgie had been approved of by the King and Council, if it had not also passed the Approbation of both Houses of Parliament.

13. The Book being finished and subscribed, it w [...]s with all due [...]everence humbly presented to the [...]ing: by whom it was received to his great Comfort and Quietnesse of mind, as the Statute telleth us: and being by him commended to the [Page 11] Lords and Commons then assembled in Parlia­ment. They did not only give his Highnesse most hearty and lowly Thanks, for his Care therein; but, on perusal thereof, declared it to be done by the aid of the Holy Ghost: and thereupon it was enacted, That all Ministers in the Kings Domi­nions should say Common and open prayer in such order and form, as is mentioned in the same Book, and no otherwise.

14. The raign of this Young King was indeed remarkable for the progresse of the Reformation, but otherwise tumultuous in it self, and defamed by Sacrilege, and so distracted into sides and factions, that in the end the King himself became a prey to the strongest party.

15. The Physicians that attended him on his death bed whispered: That neither their Advice nor Applications had been at all regarded in the course of his sicknesse: That the King had been ill dealt with, more than once or twice: and, That, when by the benefit both of his Youth and care­full means, there were some fair hopes of his Re­covery, he was again more strongly overlaid than ever. It is affirmed by a Writer of the Popish party, (who could have no great cause to pity such a calamitous end) that the Apothecary who poy­sond him, for the horrour of the offense, and the disquietnesse of his Conscience, did, not long after, drown himself.

[Page 12] 16. In his dying prayer (as it was taken from his Mouth) we have those pious words: Lord God, deliver me out of this miserable and wretched life, and take me among thy Chosen. Howbeit not my will, but thine be done. Lord, Blesse my people, and save thine inheritance. Defend this Realm from Papistry, and maintain thy true Religion.

Ob. 6. Jul. An, D. 1553. Aet. 16.

1. SHe was eldest Daughter of Henry L. Grey, Duke of Suffolk. Her Mother was the Ladie Francis, daughter, and in fine one of the coheires of Charles Brandon, the late Duke of Suffolk, by Marie his wife, Queen Dowager to Lewis 12. of France, and youngest Daughter of K. Henrie VII. She seemed to have been born with those Attractions, which seat a So­veraigntie in the face of most beautiful persons: yet was her Mind endued with more excellent Charms, then the Attractions of her Face: Mo­dest and Mild of Disposition, Courteous of Car­riage, and of such Affable Deportment, as might [Page 14] entitle her to the name of Queen of Hearts, be­fore she was designed for Queen over any Sub­jects.

2. These her Native and obliging Graces, were accompanied with some more profitable ones, of her own acquiring: which set an higher value on them, and much encreased the same, both in Worth and Lustre. Having attained unto that Age, in which other young Ladies used to apply themselves to the sports and exercises of their Sex, She wholly gave her Mind to good Arts and Sciences; much furthered in that pursuit by the loving Care of Mr Elmer: under whose charge she came to such a large proficiency, that she spake the Latin and Greek Tongues, with as sweet a fluencie, as if they had been natural and native to her: exactly skilled in the liberal Sciences, and perfectly well studied in both kinds of Philo­sophie.

3. Take here a story out of Mr Ascham's Schoolm. p. 11. in his own words: ‘One exam­ple, Whether love or fear doth work more in a child, for vertue and learning, I will gladly report: which may be heard with some plea­sure, and followed with more profit. Before I went into Germanie, I came to Brodegate in Leicestershire, to take my leave of that noble Ladie Jane Grey, to whom I was exceeding much beholding. Her Parents the Duke and the [Page 15] Dutchesse, with all the Houshold, Gentlemen and Gentlewomen, were hunting in the Park: I found her in her Chamber, reading Phoedon Platonis in Greek, and that with as much de­light, as some Gentlemen would read a merry tale in Bocace. After salutation, and duty done, with some other talk, I asked her, why she would leese such pastime in the Park: Smiling she answered me; I wisse, all their sport in the Park, is but a shadow to that pleasure that I find in Plato: Alas, good folk, they never felt what true pleasure meant. And how came You, Ma­dam, quoth I, to this deep knowledge of plea­sure, and what did chiefly allure You unto it, seeing not many women, but very few men have attained thereunto. I will tel you, saith she, and tell you a troth, which perchance ye will marvel at. One of the greatest benefits that ever God gave me, is, that he sent me so sharp and severe Parents, and so gentle a School­master. For, when I am in presence either of Father or Mother, whether I speak, keep silence, sit, stand, or go, eat, drink, be merry, or sad, be sowing, playing, dauncing, or doing any thing else, I must do it, as it were, in such weight, measure and number, even so perfectly, as God made the world; or else I am so sharply traunted, so cruelly threatned, yea presently sometimes, with pinches, nips and bobs, and [Page 16] waies, (which I will not name, for the honour I bear them,) so without measure misordered, that I think my self in hell, till time come, that I must go to Mr Elmer: who teacheth me so gently, so pleasantly, with such fair allure­ments to learning, that I think all the time nothing, whiles I am with him. And when I am called from him, I fall on weeping, because, what­soever I do else, but learning, is full of grief, trouble, fear and whole misliking unto me. And thus my book hath been so much my pleasure, and bringeth dayly to me more pleasure and more, that in respect of it, all other pleasures, in very deed, be but trifles and troubles unto me. I remember this talk gladly, both because it is so worthy of memory, and because also it was the last talk that ever I had, and the last time that ever I saw that noble and worthy La­dy. Thus far Mr Ascham.]’

4. By this eminent proficiency in all parts of learning, and an Agreeablenesse in Disposition, she became very dear to the Young K. Edward: to whom Fox not onely makes her equal, but doth acknowledge her also to be his Superiour in those noble studies. And for an Ornament superadded to her other perfections, she was most zealously affected to the true Protestant Religion, then by law established; Which she embraced, not out of any outward compliance with the present cur­rent [Page 17] of the Times, but because her own mo [...]t excellent Judgement had been fully satisfied in the Truth and Purity thereof. All which did so endear her to the King, that he took great delight in her Conversation.

5. Thus lived she in these sweet Content­ments, till she came unto the years of Marriage, when she, that never found in her self the le [...]st spark of Ambition, was made the most unhappy Instrument of another Mans. The proud and aspiring Duke of Northumberland treats with the Duke of Suffolk, about a Marriage between the Lord Guilford Dudly his fourth Son, and the Lady Jane. The Marriage is concluded, and by Nor­thumberland's policy; the Crown is transferred from K. Edward to his Cosin the Lady Jane, his two Sisters the Lady Mary and Lady Elizabeth being passed by. Memorable is the Speech she made to the two Dukes, when they owned her for Queen, to this effect: ‘That the Laws of the Kingdom, and natural Right, standing for the Kings Sisters, she would beware of burthening her weak Conscience with a yoke, which did belo [...]g to them: That she understood the Infa­my of those, who had permitted the violation of Right, to gain a Scepter: That it were to mock God, and deride Justice, to scruple at the stealing of a shilling, and not at the usurpation of a Crown. Besides (said she) I am not so [Page 18] yong, nor so little read in the guiles of fortune, to suffer my self to be taken by them. If she enrich any, it is but to make them the sub­ject of her spoil: If she raise others, it is but to pleasure her self with their Ruins. What she adored but yesterday, is to day her pastime. And if I now permit her to adorn and Crown Me, I must to morrow suffer her to crush, and tear me in pieces, &c. But the Ambition of the two’ Dukes was too strong and violent, to be kept down by any such prudent Considerations. So that being wearied at last with their Importunities, and overcome by the intreaties of her husband, whom she dearly loved, She submitted unto that necessity which she could not vanquish, yielding her head with more unwillingnesse to the ravish­ing Glories of a Crown, then afterward she did to the stroke of the Ax.

6. The Acclamations at the proclaiming of Queen Mary, were heard by the Lady Jane (now no longer Queen) with such Tranquillity of mind and composednesse of countenance, as if she had not been concerned in the Alteration. She had before received the offer of a Crown, with [...]s even a Temper, as if it had been nothing, but a Garland of flowers: and now she layes aside the thought thereof with as much contentedness, as she could have thrown away that Garland when the sent was gone. The time of her Glory was so short, but a [Page 19] nine Daies wonder, that it seemed nothing but a Dream, out of which she was not sorry to be awakened. The Towr had been to her a prison, rather than a Court, and interrupted the Delights of her former life by so many Terrours, that no Day passed without some new Alarm to disturb her Quiet. She doth now know the worst that fortune can do unto her: and having alwaies fear­ed, that there stood a Scaffold secretly behind the Throne, She was as readily prepared to act her part upon the one, as upon the other.

7. Her Death is resolved upon: but first She must be practiced with to change her Religion. To which end Fecknam is employed: a Man, whose great parts ptomised him an easie victory over a poor Lady of a broken and dejected Spirit. But it proved the contrary. For, so well had She stu­dyed the Concernments of her own Religion, and managed the Conference with him, with such a readinesse of wit, such Constancie of Resolution, and a Judgement so well grounded in all helps of Learning; that she was able to make Answer to the strongest Arguments; as well to her great Honour, as his Admiration. So that, not able to prevail with her in the change of Religion, he made offer of his service to prepare her for death. Which, though she thankfully accepted of, as finding it to proceed from a good affection; yet soon he found, that she was also aforehand with [Page 20] him in those preparations, which are fit and ne­cessary for a Dying-Christian.

8. Friday, 9. Febr. was first designed for the day of the Execution: but the Desire of gaining her to the Church of Rome procured her the short respite of three dayes more. On Sunday night, being the Eve unto the day of her Translation, she wrote a Letter in the Greek tongue, at the end of a Testament, which she bequeathed as a Legacy to her Sister the Lady Katharine, which being such a lively Picture of the excellent Lady, some lines thereof are worthy to be presented here: ‘I have sent you a Book (dear Sister) which al­though it be not outwardly trimmed with Gold, yet inwardly it is more worth then pretious stones. If you with a good mind read it, and with an earnest desire to follow it, it shall bring you to an immortal and everlasting life: it shall teach you to live, and learn you to dy: it shall win you more, then you should have gained by your wofull Fathers Lands. You shall be an Inheritor of such Riches, as neither the Cove­tous shall withdraw from you, neither Thief shall steal, neither yet the Moths corrupt. De­sire with David (good Sister) to understand the Law of the Lord God. Live still to dy, that you by death may purchase eternal life. Defie the world: Deny the Devil: Despise the Flesh; and delight your self only in the Lord. Be pe­nitent [Page 21] for your sins, and yet despair not. Be strong in Faith, and yet presume not. And de­sire, with Saint Paul, to be dissolved, and to be with Christ, with whom, even in death, there is life. And as touching my death, rejoyce as I do (Good Sister) that I shall be deliver'd of this Corruption, and put on Incorruption, For I am assured, that I shall, for lo­sing a mortal life, win an immortal one. The which I pray God to grant you, and send you of his Grace, to live in his fear, and to dy in the true Christian Faith: from the which, in Gods name, I exhort you, that you never swerve, neither for hope of life, nor for fear of death.’

9. The fatal Morning being come, the Lord Guil­ford earnestly desired the officers, that he might take his Farewell of her. Which, though they willingly permitted, yet, upon notice of it, she advised the contrary, assuring him, ‘That such a Meeting would rather add to his Afflictions, and her presence rather weaken then strengthen him: That he ought to take courage from his Reason, and derive constancy from his own heart: That he should do well to remit this Interview to the other World; that there indeed Friend­ships were happy, and unions indissoluble, and that theirs would be eternal, if their souls carried nothing with them of Terrestrial, which might [Page 22] hinder them from rejoycing.’ All she could do, was to give him a Farewell out of a window, as he passed toward the place of his dissolution: which he suffer'd on the Scaffold on Tower-Hill, with much Christian meeknesse.

10. The Lady was led to a Scaffold within the Tower, by Sir Henry Gage the Constable; who desired her to bestow some small gift upon him, as a Memorial of her. To gratify which desire, she gave him her Table-book: in which she had writ­ten three sentences, in Greek, Latine and English; as she saw her Husbands Body brought unto the Chappel; which she besought him to accept as her last Bequest. The Greek to this effect: ‘That, if his executed body should give testimo­ny against her before Men; his most blessed soul should give an eternal proof of her Inno­cence in the presence of God. The Latine ad­ded: That Humane Justice was against his Bo­dy, but the Divine Mercy would be for his Soul. The Conclusion in English: That, if her fault deserved punishment, her Youth at least, and her Imprudence were worthy of Ex­cuse; and, that God and Posterity would shew her Favour.’

11. Conducted by Fecknam to the Scaffold, she gave not much heed to his Discourses, but kept her eyes upon a Prayer-book of her own. And, being mounted on the Throne, from which she [Page 23] was to receive a more excellent Crown, then any which this vile Earth could give her, she addres­sed her self in some few words to the standers by, letting them know; ‘That her offence was not for having layd her hand upon the Crown, but for not rejecting it with sufficient Constancy: That she had lesse erred through Ambition, then out of Reverence to her parents; yet such Reverence deserved punishment: That she would willingly admit of death, so to give satisfaction to the injured State: And that she had justly deserved this punishment, for being made the Instrument, (though an unwilling In­strument) of Anothers ambition.’ Then, having desired the people to recommend her in their prayers to the mercies of God, being ready for the block, with the same clear and untroubled Countenance, wherewith she had acted all the rest of her Tragedy, she said aloud the Psalm of Miserere mei Deus, in the English Tongue, and so submitted her pure neck to the [...]xecutioner. An. 1553.

1. THIS learned and worthy man fell im­mediately, from the womb of his Mo­ther, into the lap of the Muses; being both born and bred within the liberties of that famous nursery of good Letters, Cambridge. He seems to have been of no vulgar extraction, for two of his Sisters were fairly matched, one to Dr. Blith, the Kings professor of Physick; and Mary, another of them, to William Cecil, afterwards Lord Burghley, a most able Minister of State.

2. Certainly, his deserts were so far above vul­gar and ordinary, that they quickly purchased him a Fellowship in S. Johns Colledge: and it may be disputable, whether in point of learning, he owed more to the place, or the place to him. His eminency was so generally taken notice of by the [Page]

[Page] [Page 25] whole University, that they pitched upon him for the sole manage of two weighty, but honorary employments, of their publick Orator and Greek Reader.

3. In the discharge of this later he went over all Sophocles twice, all Homer, all Euripides, and part of Herodotus, to his Auditors benefit and his own credit: which was all the Salary he then had: till King Henry VIII of his royal bounty endowed that and the other Chairs with the libe­ral Allowance of XL pounds per annum; and, up­on the sole Commendatories of his former deser­vings, conferred that honour on him, to be the first Regius professor of the Greek tongue in Cam­bridge, as Sir Thomas Smith was of Law.

4. These two especially by their advice and example brought the study of Tongues and other politer learning first into request in that Univer­sity. Upon hopes of facilitating the Greek Tongue, they attempted to reduce it to the an­tient, but obsolete manner of pronuntiation: an innovation quickly observed by B. Gardiner, the Chancellor, and repressed by a strict Injunction, May 21. 1542. And though at last, after several Writings, Mr. Cheek was content to submit to that one unanswerable Argument of the Chancel­lors Authority; yet his Rules and Practice had taken such deep root in his Auditors, that by them it was propagated through this whole King­dom: [Page 26] and that we English-men speak Greek, and are able to understand one another, we must ac­knowledge it to be a special effect of Mr. Cheek's rare ingeny.

5. That famous King, Henry VIII, thought it sit to call this great light of Learning out of the shadow: and so he did July 10. 1544. and to his Custody he then committed the most precious Jewel of the Kingdom, the young Prince Edward, being at that time not full seven years of age. What progresse he made under this Director of his studies, appears by those noble Reliques of his industry und sufficiency, both in Greek and La­tine, which are still preserved in his Majesties Li­brary at S. James.

6. It may be truly said, that under God Mr. Cheek was a special Instrument of the propagation of the Gospel, and that Religion which we now professe in this Kingdom. For he not only sowed the seeds of that Doctrin in the heart of Prince Edward, which afterwards grew up into a general Reformation when he came to be King; but by his means the same saving truth was gently instil­led into the Lady Elizabeth, by those who by his procurement were admitted to be guides of her younger studies. Such were, first William Grindall, and after him Roger Ascham, who had fomerrly bin his Scholar in the Coll. and successor in the Ora­tors place in the University: a man dear unto him [Page 27] for similitude of studies, but more for his zeal to the true Religion.

7. An. 1547. When the young King was wel settled in his Throne, he admitted Mr. Cheek to be one of his privy Chamber. This accrue of Ho­nour to her son made his learned Mother the U­niversity a suiter to him for protection in those stormy times: who in her Letters to him gives him such an Elogie, as must not be omitted here. This it is: Ex universo illo numero clarissimorum virorum (Clarissimè Chece) qui ex hac Academia in Remp. unquam prodierunt, Tu unus es, quem sem­per Academia, prae universis aliis, & praesentem complexa est, & absentem admirata est: qnam Tu vicissim plusquam universi alii & praesens ornave­ras, & absens juvas.

An. 1551. When his Majesty was pleased to make a doal of Honours among his deserving Sub­jects; Mr. Cheek was not forgotten: He, with his Brother in Law Secretary Cecil, were then Knighted, This was but a foundation upon which the gratefull Prince had a purpose to erect high­er preferments, had not the hand of Providence so soon snatcht him away into another Kingdom, to invest his temples with a more glorious Crown. This was done July 6. 1553. not long after he had called Sir John Cheek to sit at the helm of State, the Council Boord. In this common losse of so good a King, He, good man, had more then a com­mon [Page 28] share. Being clapt up in prison July 27. he was stript of the greatest part of his honours, and all his fortunes: [...]ut his Person was set at liber­ty Sept. 3. and not long after we meet with him in Germany, either a forced or a voluntary exile.

9. From thence he passed into Italy, and by the way left those adversary Epistles of Winche­ster and himself with his Friend Coelius, who put them in print without the Authours pri­vity. At his return to Germany, he was kindly entertained at Strasburg, where he took up his old trade, and set up shop again, being chosen Professor of the Greek tongue in that place. This was a treasure which maintained him in his exile: this he had not confiscate to the Queen: this escaped the diligence of the Searchers, when he conveyed it out of the Kingdom.

10. Here he lived about two years in good re­pute, till I know not what unlucky stars put him upon a journey into the Low Countries. Some have said it was to marry a wife: but what need of that, when he was already matched to a young Lady; who lived to see many happier days after his decease, and dyed well nigh threescore years after him, An. 1616. Sleidan tells us he went in­to low Germany, ut uxorem educeret, to fetch his wife thence, who belike was lately come over out of England, and meant to settle with him at Strasburg. But in his return from Bruxelles to [Page 29] Antwerp, May 15. 1556, both Sir John Cheek and Sir Peter Carew were way-laid by the Provost Marshall for K. Philip, beaten from their horses, tyed hand and foot to the bottom of a Cart, and so conveyed hood-winkt to the next Haven; where they were shipt under h [...]tches, and their first landing place was the Tower of London, where they were committed to close prison. Sir Peter Carew out-lived his Troubles, and under-went many honourable services under Queen Elizabeth, and dyed An. 1575.

11. Sir John Cheek's lot was somewhat harder: he was put to this miserable choise, either to forgo his life, or what is far more precious, his liberty of Conscience. No mean: neither his great Learning, nor his known integrity, nor the inter­cession of his friends, and among them Abbot Fekenham (a man which could do somewhat with Queen Mary) could compound for his pardon at any lower rate, then the recantation of his Religion. Upon this he was soon resto­red to his liberty, but never to his content. The sense and sorrow for himself, and the dayly sight of that cruel butchery which was exercised upon others for the constant profession of the truth, made such deep impressions in his broken soul, as brought him to a speedy, but comfortable end of a miserable life.

12. He dyed at London in the house of Peter [Page 30] Osbern Esq; Sept. 1557. He left one Son, which bare his name, a comely young man and a stout, slain in his Princes service in Ireland 1580. but the issue of his brain was more numerous; De pronuntiatione Graecae linguae, Panegyricus Edvardi VI. De obitu Buceri, De Eucharistiae Sacramento, Maximi Monachi Asceticus, &c. His Body lyes buryed at Saint Albans, Wood-street, with this E­pitaph:

1. HE came of the antient family of Whit­gift of Whitgift in York-shire, the eldest son of a Merchant Henry Whitgift of great Grimsly in Lincolnshire, and was there born An. 1530. He was taught (among other young Gentlemen) by his Unkle Robert Whitgift Abbot of Wellow. In which time (as he was pleased of­ten to remember) he heard the Abbot say: That they and their Religion could not long continue; be­cause (said he) I have read the whole Scripture over and over, and could never find therein that our Religion was founded by God.

2. His Uncle finding an extraordinary for­wardlynesse in him, sent him afterwards, to Lon­don, where he became a Scholar in S. Anthonies Schoole, and boarded at his Aunts House in [Page 32] Pauls Church-yard. From thence he repaired to Grimsly to his Parents, being thrust out of dores by his Aunt, because he would not goe with her to Mass, imputing all her domestick misfortunes to her harbouring such an Heretick in her House: and for a Farewell told him; That she thought at the first, she had received a Saint into her House, but now she perceived he was a Divel.

3. His Parents finding his proficiency, by the direction of his Uncle, sent him to Cambridge. Dr. Ridley made him Scholar of Pembroke Hall: thence, Dr. Pearn chose him Fellow of Peter house: Being there fallen grievously sick, the Doctor (who lov'd him for his good parts) pla­ced him with a good woman near the Colledge, visiting him oft, and charging her to spare no cost for his recovery: If he lives (said he) he will be able to pay you himself: if he dye, I will sa­tisfy you.

4. After his recovery, Dr. Pearn, finding he purposed to travel Beyond Sea to avoid the Visi­tors sent by Queen Mary, conferred with him, and seeing him resolute in his Religion, upon many good and sound reasons (as the Doctor of­ten acknowledged) willed him to be silent, and quiet, and he would so order the matter, that he might keep his Religion and not leave the Uni­versity: which the good old man justly per­formed.

[Page 33] 5. After he was entred into the Ministry (which was upon the year 1560) being to preach his first publick Sermon in S. Maries, he chose for his Text that excellent saying of S. Paul, I am not ashamed of the Gospel of Christ, &c. Wherein his singular method, choice of matter, and judi­cious handling thereof were such, that his whole Auditory, especially the Chief of the University, grew into great Admiration of those great parts in so young years.

6. From being Fellow of Peter House, he suc­ceeded Doctor Hutton in the Mastership of Pem­broke Hall, and being Chaplain to Doctor Cox Bishop of Ely, he had a Prebend there. He was also chosen the Lady Margarets Professor of Di­vinity, and afterwards the Queens. The Queen, having heard him preach, said he had a White gift indeed, made him Master of Trinity Colledge, and caused him immediately to be sworn her Chaplain, An. 1567.

7. He govern'd the Colledge for five years space with great quietnesse, untill Mr. Tho. Cart­wright (a Fellow of that Colledge) his last re­turn from beyond the Seas. Whose first discon­tentment grew from the Queens neglect of him at a Disputation before her Majesty in the Uni­versity.

8. The Master being from home, Mr. Cart­wright with some of his adherents made three [Page 34] Sermons upon one Sunday, and so vehemently in­veighed against the Surplice and other Ceremo­nies, that they of the Colledge at Evening Pray­er, laid aside their Surplices, three only ex­cepted.

9. Doctor Whitgift, after that Mr. Cartwright had broached his dangerous Doctrin, used to confute it in the same Church, the next Sunday following, and settled the judgment of many; and fore-seeing these sparks of sedition, if not timely quenched, would grow to a great flame, often sent to Mr. Cartwright, and in friendly manner advised him to surcease from those cour­ses: but finding him wilfull and obstinate, high­ly conceited of himself and a despiser of others that were not of his mind, and a refuser of any fair tryal of his cause by Conference or writing; caused him to be expelled the House, and deprived likewise of the Margarit Lecture: An. 1570.

10. Not long after, the Disciplinarians pub­lished a seditious Treatise entituled, An Admo­nition to the Parliament: the summary of their opinions and slanders. And in regard of the ap­plause it found among the greener heads, given to novelty, Doctor Whitgift answers it. Cartwright replyes, and Doctor Whitgift defends his Answer. A second Reply being publisht by Cartwright, the Doctor addresses himself to answer that too, but is dissuaded by his judicious friends, and [Page 35] especially by Doctor Whitaker in a Letter, where­in are these among other words concerning the Authour: Veris ludit, sententiis dormitat, & pla­ne indignus est, qui à quopiam docto refutetur.

11. In his ten years Government of Trinity Colledge, Doctor Whitgift bred many excellent Scholars (six whereof were in his time Bishops, and some great States-men: he procured an A­mendment of the Statutes of the Vniversity; and as the causes he dealt in were alwaies just, so his success was ever prosperous, through his wisdom and stoutnesse. And yet that stoutnesse was so well tempered and mingled with his other vertue of mildnesse and patience, that Mr. Hooker made this true observation of him; He alwaies govern'd with that moderation, which useth by patience to suppresse boldnesse, and to make them conquer that suffer: which well suted with his Motto, Vincit qui patitur.

12. An. 1577. He was chosen to be Bishop of Worcester, consecrated 21. Apr. and having ta­ken leave of the Vniversity and Colledge by preaching of peace publickly and privately, he was in June following attended on his way to Worcester by a great Troup of the chiefest persons, full of sorrow for their losse of so excellent a Go­vernour. The Queen, to shew her Bounty and Love, forgave him his first fruits, and gave him the disposing of all the Prebends of that Church du­ring his Continuance there.

[Page 36] 13. He found the Bishoprick at his first coming much impaired by his Predecessors, in long Leases and Grants: but that which most troubled him was the letting of the Rent Corne of his two best Mannors, Hollow and Grimley, the chief uphold­ing of the Bishops hospitality. To redeem the said Corn from a powerfull Tenant, the Bishop was contented, by way of Composition to give three hundred pound out of his own purse to have the lease surrendred.

14. There was such mutual love between the Gentlemen and the Bishop, that they delighted to converse much together. And if the Bishop un­derstood of any jar or discord, he [...]ould send for both parties (under pretence of some service to be done) and make them friends. If they were froward against perswasion, he would interpose his Authority, as Vice President of Wales (which place her Majesty bestowed on him shortly after he was made Bishop) and threaten the obstinate with imprisonment.

15. He had a special care of his own family (as behoved him) and of his Attendants neer unto him; and to avoid all colour of corruption would never receive informations or petitions in his private Chamber but abroad, by the Petitioners themselves; in so much that a Gen­tleman of his Bed-chamber making request he might have the delivery of Suitors Petitions, and [Page 37] indorse their Answers, he grew into such dislike, that he presently discharged him.

16. Her Majesty out of her experience of his wise and prudent Government, was pleased (up­on complaint of the many discords and disorders in the two Cathedral Churches of Lichfield and Hereford) to direct two Commissions unto him for the visiting of the said Churches. He reform­ed them both, and ordained them Statutes for their better Government.

17. Arch-bishop Grindal, laboured him in most earnest manner to accept of the Arch-bi­shoprick, being himself contented to shake off his cares, and receive from her Majesty some yearly Pension: which Bishop Whitgift utterly refused, and in presence of the Queen her self besought pardon in not accepting thereof, upon any condition whatsoever, in the life time of the other. Whereupon the Queen was graciously pleased to say: As she had made him an Arch­bishop, so he should dye an Arch-bishop: As he did shortly after.

18. He was advanced to the Arch-bishoprick of Canterbury, Sept. 24. 1583. At his first en­trance he procured an Order for the abatement of his first fruits: he recover'd from the Queen a thousand Acres of Land, and by abating the fines of his Impropriations encreased the Pensions of Cu­rates.

[Page 38] 19. Her Majesty commanded him to be vigi­lent and carefull for the reducing of Non-Confor­mists, much strengthened by his Predecessors connivency. Wherein he had much adoe, many conflicts, and was opposed by some great Per­sonages. Concerning whom he thus writeth: ‘I trust those that love me indeed, will not so light­ly cast off their old friends for any of these new fangled and factious Sectaries, whose fruits are to make division.—If my honourable friends should forsake me, when I think to deserve best and in a manner consume my self to satisfie that which God, her Majesty and the Church requi­reth of me, I should be evil rewarded. Sed me­liora spero.—The slanderous tongues of this uncharitable Sect, reported that I am become a Papist: but it proceedeth from their leudness, not any desert of mine, &c. But how is it possible that I should perform the charge, which I have undertaken, after so long liberty, and lack of Discipline, if a few persons, so meanly qua­lified (as most of these factious Sectaries are) should be countenanced against the whole state of the Clergy of greatest account both for learn­ing, years, staidnesse, wisdome, religion and ho­nesty; and open breakers and impugners of the Law, young in years, proud in conceit, con­tentious in disposition, should be maintained against their Governours seeking to reduce [Page 39] them to order and obedience, &c. The day wil come, when all mens hearts shall be opened. In the mean time I will depend upon him, who never fiaileth those, that put their trust in him.’

20. An. 1587. Tho. Bromley (the then Lord Chancellor) dyed. Whereupon it pleased her Majesty to discover her gracious inclination, to have made the Arch-bishop Lord Chancellour of England. But he excusing himself in many re­spects, that he was grown into years, and had the burthen of all Ecclesiastical businesses laid upon his back (which was as much as one man could well undergoe, considering the troubles with so many Sectaries that were then-sprung up) desired to be spared; and besought her Highnesse to make choice of Sir Christopher Hatton, who short­ly after was made Lord Chancellour in the Arch­bishops house at Croydon; thereby the rather to grace the Arch-bishop. His advancement did much strengthen the Arch-bishop and his friends, and withall, the Earl of Leicester and his designments came soon after to an end.

21. An. 1588. Upon the death of the Farl of Leicester, the Chancellorship of Oxford being void, divers of the Heads and others of the Uni­versity made known unto the Arch-bishop their desire to chufe him their Chancellour, although he was a Cambridge man. To whom he returned [Page 40] this Answer; That he was already their friend, whereof they might rest assured, and therefore advi­sed them to make choice of some other in near place about the Queen, that might assist him on their be­half; and both at the Council-board, and other places of Justice, right them many waies, both for the benefit of their Ʋniversity, and of their Colledges. And therewithall recommended unto them Sir Christopher Hatton, being sometime of that Uni­versity. Whom accordingly they did chuse for their Chancellour, and whom the Arch-bishop ever found a great Assistant in bridling and reforming the imtemperate humour of those Novelists, who by the Countenance of some great personages were now grown to a strong head.

22. It was in their Assemblies Classical and Sy­nodical concluded, that the Discipline should, within a time limited, be put in practice, and e­rected all in one day by the Ministers together with the people: whom those Disciplinarians bragged [...]o be already enflamed with zeal to lend so many thousand hands, for the advancement of their Cause. In their publick Sermons and Ex­horcations (as in their private Conventicles) they did alienate the hearts of their Auditors from all obedience of the Ecclesiastical Magistrates. As namely Mr. Cartwright: who also in his prayer before his Sermons, used thus to say: Because they (meaning the Bishops) which ought to be [Page 41] pillars in the Church, do band themselves against Christ and his truth; therefore, O Lord, give us grace and power, all as one man, to set our selves a­gainst them. Which words, by way of Emphasts, he would often repeat. And doth not [...]dall threaren, that the Presbytery shall prevail, and come in by that way and means, as shall make all their hearts to ake, that shall withstand or hinder the same.

23. Great was the temper and moderation of the good Arch-bishop in handling these b [...]sines [...]es. In his time Brown was changed from his fansies, and afterwards obtained a Benefice called A­church in North-Hamptonshire, where he became a painfull Preacher. He did not, though he might have blemished with her Majesty the reputations of some in great place for favouring the Libellers and Libels, which had stowage and vent in their Chambers. He procured at her Majesties hands both pardon and dismission for Mr. Cartwright and the rest out of their troubles. For which Mr. Cartwright held himself much obliged, and in his letters acknowledgeth his bond of most humble duty so much the straiter, because his Graces fa­vour proceeded from a frank disposition, without any desert of his own.

24. The Arch-bishop hath been heard to say, That if Mr. Cartwright had not so far engaged himself, as he did, in the beginning, he thought veri­ly, [Page 42] he would in his later time have been drawn to Com­formity. For, when he was freed from his troubles he often repaired to the Arch-bishop, who used him kindly, and was contented to tolerate his preaching in Warwick divers years, upon his pro­mise that he would not impugn the laws, orders and government in this Church of England, but perswade and procure, so much as he could, both publickly and privately, the estimation and peace of the same. Which albeit he accordingly per­formed, yet when her Majesty understood by o­thers, that Mr. Cartwright did preach again (though temperately, according to his promise made to the Arch-bishop:) She would by no means endure his preaching any longer without subscri­ption; and grew not a little offended with the Arch-bishop for such conniving at him. Not long after Mr. Cartwright dyed rich, as it was said, by the benevolence and bounty of his followers.

25. An. 1592. After the death of Sir Christo­pher H [...]tton, Sir John Puckering was made Lord Keeper, who shewed himself a friend to the Church, to the Arch-bishop and his proceedings, and acknowledged him a furtherer of his Ad­vancement. Sir Thomas Egerton Master of the Rolles succeeded him, 6. May. 1596. a lover of learning, and a most constant favourer of the Clergy and Church-government established: as also a faithfull loving friend to the Arch-bishop in all [Page 43] his affairs: In so much as after his advancement to that honour, and that the Earl of Essex and the Arch-bishop concurred together, being also fur­ther strengthned by the friendship and love of Sir Robert Cecil Principal Secretary, he began to be fully revived again. And her Majesty finding in him a zealous care, and faithfull performance of his duty, laid the burthen of the Church upon his shoulders, telling him: That, if any thing went amiss, be it upon his soul and conscience to an­swer it: for she had rid her hands, and looked that he should yeeld an account, on her behalf, to Al­mighty God.

26. And now, though the Arch-bishop was in this singular favour and grace with his Majesty, so that he did all in all for the managing of Cler­gy-affairs, and disposing of Bishopricks, and other Ecclesiastical promotions; yet was he never puffed up with pride, nor did any thing violently against any man. For he ever observed this rule, That he would not wound, where he could not salve. So that it was truly noted by the Earl of Salisbury a great Counsellour, in the Star-chamber when Pickering was there censured for libelling against him after his death: That there was nothing more to be feared in his Government (especially toward his later time) then his mildnesse and clemency. And some younger spirits were of opinion that he was much to blame in that kind, and some­times [Page 44] would be bold to tell him: That he knew not his own strength with her Majesty.

27. As you may perceive his clemency towards the irregular sort, so, towards the conformable, he was carried with an exceeding tender respect and kindnesse. He loved a learned Minister, ver­tuous and honest, with all his heart, framing him­self unto that rule of Aristotle, which directeth a good Magistrate, to be as carefull in encouraging good men according to their merits, as in punishing the bad according to the quality of their offenses. If he found a Scholar of extraordinary gifts or hopes, that out of wants grew discontented, and enclined to Popery or Puritanism (as most of their discontentments and way-wardnesse proceedeth thence) him would he gain both with supplies of mony out of his purse, and preferments of his own gift, or otherwise as opportunity served.

28. Neither was his Bounty wanting to men of learning and quality of forrein Countries. Sundry times sent he mony to Mr. Beza out of his own purse, besides the general Collections for Geneva. Upon which occasion many letters passed be­tween them. In his letter Mar. 8. 1591. Beza confesseth: That he never intended to touch, or impugne the Ecclesiastical policy of this Church of England, nor to exact of us to frame our selves or our Church to the pattern of their Presbyterial Di­scipline, &c. That as Queen Elizabeth was the true [Page 45] nursing Mother of the Church of Christ, so Eng­land and our English Church was both the har­bour of the Godly, and the preserver of all other Reformed Churches. So far was he also from esteeming the Arch-bishop an Antichristian Pre­late, as he never omitted to term him, A most Re­verend Father in Christ, and his most honoured good Lord. I wish that our Disciplinarians, who seem to direct themselves by the rule of Geneva, would learn thus to Discipline their tongues with him, and imitate his Modesty.

29. Although Monsieur Buse, a French Mini­ster, who read weekly a Lecture in Latin in his Chappel, by his French pronunciation and want of good delivery, did somewhat blemish the good­nesse of the matter which he handled, yet the Arch-bishops property ever was, to cherish and encourage him, and all others that preached be­fore him, and was never heard to give the Prea­cher distast, but rather would commend, or excuse him against other mens censures; saying, ‘If he were young, better experience would correct his defaults: and if he were in years, he was in that respect to be borne withall: alledging for both, that some would take exceptions some­times, rather to satisfy their own too much cu­riosity, then for any just cause of dislike in the Preacher.’

30. As his continual endeavours were to re­ward [Page 46] those of best gifts, and to encourage those of meaner; so (as often as Church and State­affairs gave him leave) he was industrious in pro­pounding wholesome Doctrine to the people, and a worthy pattern of true Divinity and diligence unto all others of the Clergy. When he was Bi­shop of Worcester (unlesse extraordinary businesses of the Marches of Wales hinder'd him) he never failed to preach upon every Lords-day; many times riding five or six miles to a Parish-Church, and after Sermon came home to dinner. The like he did also when he was Arch-bishop, and lay at Croydon, the Queen being in her Progresse. No Sunday escaped him in Kent, where the Gen­tlemen would exceedingly resort unto him: and he would often preach so early in the morning in some Parish-Church, both in Worcester and Canterbury, that he came afterwards to the Ser­mon in the Cathedral-Church.

31. His gift that way was excellent, as if you had heard Saint Augustine himself, or some of the ancient Bishops in the primitive Church: his gesture and action in the Pulpit so grave and de­cent, his words coming from him so fatherly and comely, and though plainly (for the most part) and without affectation, yet alwayes elegantly, with special choice, and substantial matter, full of good and sound learning; plentifull in Autho­rities out of Scripture, Fathers and Schoolmen, [Page 47] so singularly applied, that he much affected his Auditory therewith. And his pious life was an­swerable to his religious Sentences. He never preached, but he first wrote his notes in Latin, and afterward kept them during his life. ‘For he would say, that whosoever took that pains before his preaching, the older he waxed, the better he should discharge that duty; but if he trusted only to his memory, his preaching in time would become pratling.’

32. When he was Bishop of Worcester, he did much good also by his often conference and con­venting of the Papists, whom he used with mild and temperate speeches, and thereby got many of them to conform themselves, both Gentlemen and others: whereby, as at his first coming he found many Recusants, so he left very few at his coming thence. Immediately after he came to be Arch­bishop, he convented before him the chiefest, and most learned Recusants throughout all England: He also wrote letters to the Bishops, his brethren, within the Province of Canterbury, to proceed with the Recusants by their Authority Ecclesiasti­cal, and censures of the Church, and called yearly upon them for an account of their doings.

33. An. 1600. In the time of Essex's disloy­alty, the Arch-bishop sent threescore men well armed to shew themselves before the Court: of whose arrival Secretary Cecil, with the rest of the [Page 48] Lords of the Council were right glad, and said He was a most worthy Prelate. They had speedily a leader appointed them, and marched presently, and were the first that entred into the Gates of Essex house: and in the first Court made good the place untill the Earl yeelded himself, and was by the Lord Admiral brought to Lambeth house, where he remained an hour or two, and was from thence conveyed to the Tower. The Arch▪bishop had like [...]ise in readinesse fourty Horse-men well appointed, and expected directi­ons from the Court, how to dispose of them. The next morning, he sent a Gentleman to know how the Queen did, and how she rested all night. To whom she made Answer, That she rested and slept the better for his care the day before: but I beshrew his heart (said she) he would not believe this of Essex, though I had often told him, it would, one day, thus come to passe. But indeed, the Queens own recommendation of the Earl had wrought that good opinion of him in the Arch-bishop.

An. 1602. Mar. 24. dyed Queen Elizabeth. And although the Arch bishop was much dejected and grieved for the losse of his dear Soveraign and Mistress, who had so highly advanced him: yet he with the rest of the Lords, repaired imme­diately to Whitehall, and after two hours sitting in Council, about the penning of the Proclamation, He principally (as his place required) with a [Page 49] cheerfull countenance, and the rest of the Lords in like sort, accompanying him, first at the Court gate at Whitehall, with the applause and unspeak­able comfort of all the people, proclaimed her most rightfull Successor, King James. Afterwards in like cheerfull sort, the Arch-bishop with the rest of the Lords, trouped up to the Cross in Cheap­side, and there with like acclamation of the Lord Mayor and Citizens proclaimed him again. The People and Citizens took great comfort in the presence of the Arch-bishop, as if they nothing doubted, but that all went well for the State in that Council, among whom He was present.

35. Besides the pains, which he took himself, many years, with a number of worthy young Gen­tlemen in reading to them thrice a day, he took into his house, besides his Chaplains, divers of quality to instruct them in the Mathematicks, and other Lectures of sundry Arts and Languages; giving them good allowance and preferments o­therwise, as occasion was offered. And besides the many poor Scholars, whom he kept in his house till he could provide for them, and prefer them, he also maintained divers in the University, at his own charge.

36. He kept also for the exercise of Military Discipline, a godly Armory, and a fair Stable of great Horses: insomuch as he was able to arme at all points both horse and foot, and divers times [Page 50] had one hundred foot, and fifty horse of his own servants mustered and trayned: for which pur­pose he entertained Captains, &c. His house, for the Lectures and Scholastick exercises therein per­formed, might justly be accounted a little Acade­my, and in some respects superiour, &c. His Domestick Chaplains, both before and since his death, attained to the chiefest honours and digni­ties in our Church and Common-wealth; name­ly, Bancroft, Ravis, Barlow, &c.

37. He carried himself with great Resolution and courage in the determination of Causes be­longing to his proper Cognizance. When a Gen­tleman of good note told him once, that the Lords of the Council were of another opinion then his Grace: What tellest thou me (said the Arch-bishop) of the Lords of the Council? I tell thee, they are in these Cases to be advised by us, and not we by them. He would upon such occasions oftentimes say un­to his private friends, toward his later time: That two things did help much to make a man confident in good causes: namely, Orbitas & Senectus: and (said he) they steed me both.

38. He gave Audience unto Suitors twice a day, and afforded them set hours for their dispatch: at which time, he would so courteously intreat them, giving so mild and gentle Answers, that even they that sped not in their suits, did depart without discontentment. Wherein I may justly compare [Page 51] him unto Titus, qui neminem unquam à se tri­stem dimisit. He often feasted the Clergy, Nobility, and Gentry of his Diocess and Neighbourhood: at Christmas, especially, his Gates were alwayes open, and his Hall set twice or thrice over with strangers. Every year, he entertained the Queen at one of his houses (and some years twice or thrice) who besides other favours, would bid him Farewell by the name of her Black Husband, &c.

39. His Charity is testifyed by that notable Monument, his Hospital of the blessed Trinity in Croydon, which he built very fair and Colledge-wise, for a Warden and eight and twenty Brothers and Sisters. He builded also near unto it a goodly free School, with a School-masters house, allowing to the School-master twenty pounds by year for ever. And when he had finished and done the whole work, he found himself no worse in his estate, then when he first began, which he ascribed unto the extraordinary blessing and goodnesse of God. After which, when the French Ambassador (by whom he was reputed a peerlesse Prelate for piety and learning,) enquiring what Books he had written, was told, He had only published certain Books in the English tongue, in defence of the Ec­clesiastical Government, and that he had founded an Hospital and a School: The Embassador reply­ed, Profecto Hospitale ad sublevandam paupertatem, [Page 52] & Schola ad instruendam juventutem, sunt optimi libri quos Archiepiscopus conscribere potuit.

30. 1603. Ap. 28. He was the principal Mourn­er at the funeral of Queen Elizabeth; crowned and anointed King James Jul. 25. being visited by his Majesty in his sicknesse, spake to him ear­nestly in Latin, and by his last words, pro ecclesia Dei, pro ecclesia [...]ei, was conceived by the King to commend unto his royal care (as he had done sundry times before) the Church of England. Ob. ult. Feb. hora 8. pomerid. An. Dom. 1603. Aet. 73.

1. HE was born in the West, either in, or not far from the City of Exeter, An. 1550. (A Country that is, as Mr Cambden observes, ferax ingeniorum.) But with what presages of his future eminency, there is not any notice to be had. One of his Ʋncles, was Chamberlain of Exeter, in Mr Hookers Youth, and contributed both care and cost toward his Education in the free School there. His Parents need no other monument of honour, then this, that they were blessed with so worthie a Son.

2. This excellent Person had a body and soul every way so adjusted and suited to each other, that they were like meet pairs happily married together, and living peaceably. His outward aspect [Page 54] and carriage was rather comely than Cou [...]tly, his looks alwaies grave and reserved: his soul more looking inward then exspatiating at his eyes, or taking the outward prospect of his senses. He went alwaies, as if he meditated some great and good design: what he designed he industriously acted, without affectation or ostentation.

3. His words were alwaies sober and well­ordered: not more in number, then weight. He was like an hive full of honey, of a plain out­side, and a narrow accesse and orifice, but heavy, as having in him all manner of good literatute, industriously gathered and aptly digested. His friends or Confidents were few, but choise, as one that had no great opinion of himself, nor sought the applause of others.

4. While he continued in Corpus Christi Col­ledge, few men of any note in either University, but promised more than he did, as to any great and publick undertaking: not that he wanted a publick spirit, or excellent Abilities in nature and education: but he was so locked up and re­served by a natural modestie, and self-distrust, that he seemed to think it reward sufficient to have the conscience of weldoing, and pleasure enough, to see himself dayly profit in his studies; and preferment even to envy, to enjoy vertue, though never so cloistred and confined to his own breast.

[Page 55] 5. Mr Hooker did not look upon the ease and [...]uietnesse of a Colledge life, as the ultimate design of his studies: nor did he say with the Apo­stle, It is good to be here, as in a settled Tabernacle; but gently embraced those small offers of Mini­sterial Employments in the Country, which were made to him, by such as thought them somewhat proportionate, if not to his worth and learning, yet to that humble plainnesse and simplicity of his Genius and mode of living. His first living was Boscomb in the West, to which the Colledge presented him: his next in Lincolnshire, called Drayton Beauchamp, An. 1584.

6. The [...]oise, which some Non-Conformists made, kept this good Country Parson awake; who, however he could bear with patience and silence the reproaches cast upon himself as a private man, yet he thought it stupor to hear, without just in­dignation, his Mother reviled by ungrateful chil­dren. Hence sprang that excellent work of the Ecclesiastical Politie. Wherein, he hath justly obtained this Encomium from all intelligent Rea­ders, ‘That never any man undertook a better cause (since the antient conflicts of the Fa­thers) nor handled it with an honester heart, an abler judgment, or an eloquenter stile.’

7. His first five Books he lived to publish: pro­vidence in time brought forth those esteemed Abortive, the three last Books, with such linea­ments [Page 56] of their fathers virtue and vigour on them, that they may be easily and justly owned for genuin: although they had not the last politure of their Parents hand: The seventh book, by com­paring the writing of it with other indisputable papers, or known Manuscripts of Mr Hooker's, is undoubtedly his o [...]n hand throughout: The eighth is written by another hand (as a Copy) but interlined in many places with Mr Hooker's own characters, as owned by him.

8. An. 1592. He had the Dignities of a Pre­bend in Salisburie and the Subdeanrie bestowed on him: and by the Queen he was preferred to be Master of the Temple, i. e. the publick preacher in that great Auditory, which requires an excel­lent preacher, and where he may well deserve an honourable maintenance. Mr Travers was popu­larly chosen by the Societie to be Lecturer in the afternoon, a man of esteemed piety and good learning, but a Non-conformist. In comparison of whom, Mr Hooker was much undervalued by the vulgar hearers.

9. These two, although they differed in some matters, yet they corresponded in the main of sound Doctrine and holy life: like generous rivals, they honoured and loved what they saw good in one another. Hence that very worthy speech of Mr Travers, when being asked, what he thought of some vile aspersion cast upon Mr Hooker; he [Page 57] answered, In truth, I take Mr Hooker to be a very holy man.

10. An. 1594. He was removed to his last sta­tion at Bishopsburn in Kent, and was made also Prebend of Canterburie by the favour of the Archbishop Whitgift, whose valiant and able Se­cond he was in that Conflict, which he so notably maintained against the Disciplinarian faction, or the unruly Non-conformists.

11. This was the period of Mr Hooker's pro­motion, much below indeed his merit, but ade­quate, it seems, to the retirednesse of his temper, and most suitable to the policies of those times, where Church-Governors were to be rather active than contemplative spirits. And from this some­thing rising, but not very high ground, did this excellent person take his ascent and rise to heaven, the onely preferment worthie of him, dying with great comfort at his parsonage in Kent about 50 years old, An. 1599, saies Mr Camden, An. 1603, saies his Monument. He was interred in the Chancel of Bishopsbourn, where a fair Marble and Alabaster Monument (no way violated or deform­ed in all our late years of confusion) was long after erected to his Memory, An. 1634. See the rest in the eloquent Bishop, before the Eccl. Pol.

1. HE was born in the City of London, of honest and godly Parents; who be­sides his breeding in learning, left him a sufficient Patrimony and inheritance, which is descended to his heir, at Rawreth in Essex.

2. His life was well composed and ordered e­ver from his child-hood. In his tenderest years, he shewed such readinesse and sharpnesse of wit and capacity, that his two first Masters (Mr. Ward and Mr. Mulcaster) contended for him, who should have the honour of his breeding, that after became the honour of their Schools, and all Learning.

3. Mr. Ward first obtained of his Parents, that he should not be an Apprentice: and at length Mr. Mulcaster got him to Merchant Taylors School, [Page]

[Page] [Page 63] He accounted all time lost, that he spent not in his Studies. He out-stript all his equals. His ear­ly rising at four in the morning procured him the displeasure of the Ʋshers, because he called them up so soon.

4. Their pains and care he so carefully remem­bred all his life long, that he studied alwaies how to do good to them and theirs. In which grate­fulnesse he promoted Dr. Ward to the Parsonage of Waltham: and ever loved and honoured his Master Mulcaster during his life; and was a con­tinual helper to him and his Son. And as if he had made Mr. Mulcaster his Tutor or Supervisor, he placed his picture over the door of his study: whereas in all the rest of the house you could scantly see a picture.

5. From Mr. Mulcaster he went to Cam­bridge, to Pembroke Hall, and was there admitted one of Dr. Wats Scholars: (a notable Grammari­an, well entred in the Latin, Greek, and Hebrew tongues, and likewise in Geometry, and some of the Mathematicks:) and after, a Fellow there, in which he passed over all Degrees and places in such sort, that he ever seemed worthy of higher, and would in the end attain the highest: for his abilities and vertues were mature and ripe for greater employments.

6. He often lamented that he never could find a fit opportunity to shew his thankfulnesse to Dr. [Page 64] Wats, his Patron, nor to any of his Posterity. Yet he did not utterly forget him in his will, having ordered that the two Fellowships to be founded by him in Pembroke-Hall, should alwaies be chosen and filled, out of the Scholars of Dr. Wats Foun­dation (if they were found fit) of which himself had been one.

7. Being in holy Orders, he attended the no­ble and zealous Henry Earl of Huntington, Presi­dent of York, and was employed by him in often preaching and conference with Recusants, both of the Clergy and Laity: In which God so blest his endeavours that he converted many.

8. After this Mr. Secretary Walsingham takes notice of him, and obtained him of the Earl, in­tending his preferment, in which he would never permit him to take any Country-benefice, lest he and his great learning should be buried in a Coun­try-Church. His intent was to make him Reader of Controversies in Cambridge, and for his main­tenance he assigned to him (as I am informed) the lease of the Parsonage of Alton in Hampshire: which after his death he returned to his Lady; which she never knew or thought of.

9. After this he obtained the Vicaridge of S. Giles without Creeple-gate, London, and a Prebend Residentiaries place in Pauls, and was chosen Master of Pembroke-Hall, and afterward was ad­vanced to the Deanry of Westminster: and all this [Page 65] without any ambition or suite of his own, being promoted for his great worth.

10. His knowledge in the learned and modern Tongues, to the number of fifteen in all (as I am informed) was admirable: His Memory great: His Judgment profound: His pains and Industry was infinite. In the works he wrote, he used no man to read for him (as Bellarmine and others employed whole Colledges to read and study for them:) he only used an Amanuensis, to tran­scribe that, which himself had first written with his own hand.

11. As he was himself most learned, so he was a singular lover and encourager of Learned men: which appeareth in his liberality and bounty to Mr. Casaubon, Mr. Cluverius, Mr. Vossius, Mr. Grotius, Mr. Erpenius, whom he attempted with the offer of a very large stipend out of his own purse to draw into England, to have read and taught the Oriental Tongues here.

12. When the Bishopricks of Eli and Salisbu­ry were void, and some things were to be pared from them, some overture being made to him to take them, he refused them utterly: He seemed to answer, Nolo episcopari, quia nolo alienare: I will not be made a Bishop, because I will not a­lienate Bishops Lands.

13. After this, by some perswasion, he accept­ed of Chichester; yet with some fear of the bur­then: [Page 66] and after that, of Eli: and last of this of Winchester. (Whence God hath translated him to Heaven.) In which he freed himself and his Suc­cessor of a Pension of 400 per an. Which many of his Predecessors had paid. He was Almoner, Dean of the Chappel, and a privy Counsellor to King James, and King Charles: In which he spake and meddled little in Civil and temporal Affairs, being out of his profession and element: but in causes of the Church he spake fully and home.

14. Wheresoever he lived, all places were better'd by his providence and goodnesse. S. Giles was reduced by him to a Rate toward the better maintenance of the place, and the house repaired. He found nothing in the Treasury in Pembroke-Hall: he left it in ready mony a thousand pound: being Prebend Residentiary in Pauls, he built the house in Creed-Lane belonging to his Prebend, and recovered it to the Church: he repaired the Dean's lodging. When he came to Chichester he repaired the Palace there: at Eli, he spent on the Bishops houses two thousand pound. Be­sides, he refused to make some Leases in his last years, which might have been very beneficial to him, for the good of his Successor. His reason was, Many are too ready to spoil Bishopricks, and few enough to uphold them.

15. He was alwaies a diligent and painfull Preacher: most of his Solemn Sermons he was most [Page 67] carefull of, and exact; I dare say, few of them, but they passed his hand and were thrice revised, before they were preached: and he ever misliked often and loose preaching, without study of Anti­quity: and he would be bold with himself and say, When he preached twice a day at S. Giles, he prated once.

16. After he came to have an Episcopal House with a Chappel, he kept monthly Communions in­violably; yea though himself had received at the Court, the same month. In which, his Car­riage was not only decent and religious, but also exemplary. He ever offer'd twice at the Altar, and so did every one of his servants: to which pur­pose he gave them mony, lest it should be bur­thensome to them.

17. He was such an enemy to Simony, that he endured many Troubles by Quare impedit, and Duplex querela. As for himself, he seldome gave a Benefice or Preferment to him that petition'd for it: he rather sent for men of note, that he thought wanted preferment, and gave them Pre­bends and Benefices, under Seal, before they knew of it; as to Mr. Boys and Mr. Fuller.

18. Sacriledge, he did abhor, as one principal cause among many, of the forrein and civil Wars in Christendom, and invasion of the Turk. And at home, he wished some man would take the pains to collect, how many Families, that were [Page 68] raised by the spoils of the Church are now vanish­ed, and the place thereof knows them no more.

19. He was a great Almes-giver. When he liv'd at St. Giles, his certain Almes there was ten pound per an. paid quarterly by equal portions: and twelve pence every Sunday he came to Church and five shillings at every Communion, &c. The total of his pious and charitable works mentioned in his will, amounts to the sum of six thousand three hundred twenty six pound: He gave in pri­vate Alms in some few years before his death, to the sum of one thousand three hundred and forty pound.

20. A great part of five hours every day did he spend in prayer and devotion to God: and a good while before he sickned he spent all his time in prayer: and in the time of his sicknesse he conti­nually prayed, until it pleased God to receive his blessed Soul to himself.

1. BIshop Brounrig was a person of that soundnesse of Judgment, of that conspi­cuity for an unspotted life, of that un­suspected Integrity, that his life was virtutism nor­ma (as St. Jerom of Nepotian) Ita in singulis vir­tutibus eminebat, quasi caeteras non habuisset: so e­minent in every good and perfect gift, as if he had had but one onely. I never heard of any thing said by him, which a wise and good man would have wished unsaid or undone; yet I had the happi­nesse to know him above thirty years.

2. The spring of this so fair, so deep, so clear, so noble a stream of Learning, Piety and Wisdom, was at Ipswich, a Town of good note in Suffolk: where he was born An. 1592. His parents of Mer­chantly [Page 70] condition, of worthy reputation, and of very Christian Conversation. When he was not many weeks old, God took away his earthly Fa­ther, that himself might have the more tender care of the Orphan. By the prudence of his pious Mother, his Youth and first years of reason were carefully improved for his breeding in all good Learning.

3. He was sent in his fourteenth year to Pem­broke-Hall in Cambridge. There, his Modesty, Pregnancy and Piety soon invited preferment. He was first made Scholar of the House, and after Fel­low, a little sooner then either his years or stand­ing in rigour of Statute permitted: but the Col­ledge was impatient not to make sure of him, by grafting him firmly into that Society, which had been famous for many excellent men, but for none more then Brounrig.

4. When King James (that most learned Prince) was pleas'd to honour the University of Cambridge by his presence, and to make Exer­cises of Scholars the best part of his Entertain­ment, this person (then a young man) was one of those who were chosen by the University to a­dorn that Reception of the King. The part he per­formed was Jocoserious (of praevaricator) a mix­ture of Philosophy with Wit and Oratory. This he discharged, to the admiration more then the mirth of the King, and the other learned Audi­tors: [Page 71] who rejoyced to see such a luxuriancy of Wit was consistent with innocency; that jesting was confined to conveniency, and Mirth married with that Modesty which became the Muses.

5. Among his learned and accurate performan­ces in publick, I cannot but observe, that when he took the Degree of B. D. the Text upon which he chose to preach his Latin Sermon was prophe­tick and preparatory to his after sufferings: Phil. 1. 29. Vobis autem datum, &c. To you it is given on the behalf of Christ, not only to believe in him, but also to suffer for his sake. Which eloquent and pi­ous Sermon he afterwards was to fulfill indeed. Quod docuit verbo, firmavit exemplo: He made his Doctrin good by his practice, taking up the cross of Christ and following him.

6. He was preferred to be Prebend of the Col­legiate Church of Eli, by the favour and love of the then Bishop of that Seat, Doctor Felton, a ve­ry holy and good man. He had also a good living at Barlow, not far from Cambridge, a Country Village; where he condiscended in his preaching and catechising to ordinary capacities: (He oft deplored the disuse and want of Catechising:) After that, this great Lamp was set and shined in a Sphere more proper and proportionate, being chosen Master of Katharine Hall. Here, it was wonderfull to see, how the Buildings, the Reve­nues, the Students and the studiousness of that place [Page 72] increased, by the care, counsell, prudence, dili­gence and Fame of Doctor Brounrig; who had such an eye to all, that he oversaw none, frequent­ing the Studies, and examining even younger [...]cholars, that they might be encouraged in Learn­ing and Piety.

7. He kept up very much, as good Learning and good Manners, so the honour of Orthodox Divinity, and orderly Conformity: He kept to the Doctrin, Worship, Devotion, and Govern­ment in the Church of England: Which, he would say, he liked better and better, as he grew older. If any, out of scruple or tendernesse of Conscience, was lesse satisfied with some things, no man had a more tender heart, or a gentler hand to heal them. He would convince, though he did not con­vert Gain-sayers; and if he could not perswade them, yet he would pity and pray for them.

8. He could endure differences among learned and godly men, in opinions, especially sublime and obscure, without distance in affection. He thought that Scripture it self was in some points left unto us lesse clear and positive, that Christi­ans might have wherewith to exercise both Hu­mility in themselves, and Charity towards others. He very much venerated the first worthy Refor­mers of Religion at home and abroad: yet was he not so addicted to any one Master, as not freely to use his own great and mature Judgment. He [Page 73] hoped every good Man had his Retractations, ei­ther actual or intentional; though all had no time to write them, as Saint Austin did. He had the greatest Antipathy against those unquiet and prag­matick Spirits, which affect endlesse Controver­sies, Varieties and Novelties in Religion, to car­ry on a party, and under that skreen of Religion to advance their private Interests and politick Designs.

9. For the Liturgy, though he needed a set form as little as any, yet he had a particular great esteem of it: 1. For the honour and piety of its Martyrly Composers: 2. For its excellent mat­ter, and prudent Method: 3. For the good he saw it did to all sober Christians: the want of which he saw was not supplied by any Ministers private way of praying and preaching. Not, that the Li­turgy is unalterable: but he judged all such Al­terations ought to be done by the publick spirit. As for Bishops, he was too learned a man to doubt, and too honest to deny the universal Custom and practice of the Church of Christ, in all ages and places for fifteen hundred years, according to the pattern (at least) received from the Apostles: who, without doubt, followed, as they best knew, the mind of Christ.

10. He was by the favour of King Charls, and to the great liking of all good men made Bishop of Exeter, Anno 1641. Whereupon, a certain [Page 74] Gentleman told me; He wondred Doctor Broun­rig would be made a Bishop, whom he had heard sometime declare his judgment against Episcopacy. Which, as I no way beleived, so relating it soon after to the Bishop, He with some passion replyed; I never thought, much lesse said, as that person hath falsely averred. I thank God, I took the office of a Bishop with a good Conscience, and so I hope by his Mercy I shall both maintain and discharge it.

11. And however this excellent Bishop enjoy­ed not the benefit of the Kings favour and muni­ficence, as to his Bishoprick, or any other prefer­ment, after the Troubles of the times; yet he was ever most unmovable in his royal respects of fide­lity, gratitude, love and obedience. According­ly, when O. P. with some shew of respect to him, demanded his judgment in some publick affairs, the Bishop with his wonted Gravity and Free­dome replyed: My Lord, the best Counsel I can give you, is that of our Saviour, Render unto Caesar the things that be Caesars, and unto God the things that be Gods. With which free Answer O. P. rested rather silenced then satisfyed.

12. This Grave personage, when forced to retire, was usefull to those that were worthy of him, and knew how to value and use him, either as a Bishop, or as a Divine, or a Counsellor, or a Comforter, or a Friend. Among those, that gave him a liberal and noble entertainment, Thomas [Page 75] Rich Esq; of Sunning in Bark-shire, deserves with honour to be thus registred, That he was the special friend to Bishop Brounrig. Indeed none could be hospitable to him gratis: He alwaies paid largely for his entertainments by his many excellent Discourses.

13. He was alwaies, when in health, as cheer­full (as far as the Tragedies of the Times gave leave) as one that had the continual feast of a good Conscience; and as content, as if he had had a Lords estate. All diminutions and indignities, which some men put upon so worthy and vene­rable a person, he digested into patience and pray­ers. Thus he was in some degree conformable to the primitive Bishops, which were poor and perse­cuted, yea to the great Bishop of our Souls, Who for our sakes made himself of no reputation.

14. About a year before he dyed, he was invi­ted with much respect and civility to the Honou­rable Societies of both Temples, to blesse them, as with his constant Residence, so with his Fatherly Instructions and Prayers. To shew the Reality of their love and value to his Lordship, they not on­ly allowed an annual honorary Recompence to ex­presse their Thanks, but they provided handsome Lodgings, and furnished them with all things ne­cessary, convenient and comely for a person of his worth. Such as could hear him preach rejoyced at his gracious words: such as for the crowd could [Page 76] not come nigh enough to hear him, had pleasure to stay and behold him, conceiving they saw a Sermon in his looks, and were better'd by the ve­nerable Aspect of so worthy a person.

15. God was pleased to exercise him with bo­dily pains, indispositions and distempers, some­times with sharp fits of the Stone; but under all these God supported him with his Grace, and spirit, as alwaies humble, devout and pious, so for the most part sociable, ferene and cheerfull, till he had lived to his sixty seventh year. He had more frequent Infirmities, as gentle monitors, a little before his death, of which he would speak to my self and others, as one that by dying dayly was well acquainted with death: and would say, That it was a very cheap time now to die: there be­ing so little temptation to desire life, and so many to welcome death: since he had lived to see no King in the State, no Bishop in the Church, no Peer in Par­liament worthy of that name. He only hoped and prayed that God would favour him so far with an [...], as to let him dy without pain: as in­deed he did. For after his spirits were in ten days decayed and wasted, he slumbred much, yet had vigilant Intervals; at which times he gave him­self to prayer and meditation and holy Discour­ses: And being full of the Grace and peace of God, and confirmed in it by the Absolution of the Church (which belongs to all that dye in the true [Page 77] [Page 77] faith, and blessed hope of penitent sinners) he placidly rendred his holy, devout and precious Soul to God that gave it, Dec. 7. 1659. vid. fin.

16. His Body for stature and figure was some­what taller and bigger then ordinary, yet very comely. No man ever became the Preachers Pul­pit, or the Doctors Chair, or the Episcopal Seat (it was called of old Thronus Episcopalis) better then he did; carrying before him such an unaf­fected State and grandeur, such a benign gravity, and a kind of smiling Severity, that one might see much in him to be reverenced, and more to be loved: yet what was venerable in him was very amiable, and what was amiable was very venerable.

17. If you please to add to your former fa­vours (while he lived amongst you) this last, of giving order and leave to adorn your Chappel with any Monument for him, you need be at no more cost, then to inscribe, on a plain Stone, the name of BISHOP BROUNRIG: This will make that Stone Marble enough, and your Chappel a Mausoleum.

1. HE was a branch of an antient Family, so firmly by Gods providence plan­ted in Shropshire, that the stock hath continued in the same House, carrying the name of its owner, and known by the title of Gata­cre-hall, by an uninterrupted succession from the time of K. Edward the Confessor.

2. His Father was houshold Chaplain to Robert Earl of Leicester, and Pastor of S. Edmunds in Lumbardstreet London. In that parsonage-house, by his Wife Margarit, being of an honest Family of the Pigots in Hertfordshire, among other chil­dren, he had this Son Thomas, born Septem. 4. 1574.

3. In his childhood, he was so addicted to learning, that he needed a bridle rather than a spur. This love of learning joyned with an admirable [Page 78] capacity, a nimble wit and vast memorie, adorned with sober manners, advanced him from the Grammar School to the Ʋniversitie, (where he was by his father placed in St John's Colledge, in Cambridge) in the 15 year of his Age, 1590.

4. Here, not from mere favour, but from merit (upon proof of his learning) he was chosen Scholar of that worthy Society: wherein he continued his studies with unwearyed diligence and happy successe, till with abilities answe­rable to his Degree, he commenced Master of Arts.

5. Take for an instance of his Industry this: That he was a constant Auditor of that eminent light of learning Mr Jo. Boys: who read a Greek Lecture in his bed to certain young students, that preferred antelucana studia before their rest and ease. The Notes whereof he kept as a Treasure, and being visited by Mr Boys many years after, he produced them to the no small joy of the good old man, who professed himself made some years yonger by that entertainment.

6. Such esteem he was of in the University, that he was chosen to be Fellow ef Sidney Col­ledge, while it was in building. Mean while, he retired to a Gentlemans house in Essex, where he expounded some part of Scripture every morning. At which exercise, Dr Stern, suffragan of Col­chester, at a time happening to be present, and [Page 79] approving his endowments, exhorted Mr Gataker to take holy Orders. But he well weighed the burden of that Calling, and modestly judging of his own Abilities, deferred the matter, till by the advice of Mr Alvey, formerly his Tutor, and by a second instance of the Doctor, he assented to be Ordained by the said Suffragan.

7. Sidney Coll: being finished, he betook him­self to his station there, and was happy in season­ing Young Students with principles of piety and learning. He was also a partner to some other charitable Divines, in a pious Design of preaching in places adjacent to the University, where need was. And for half a year he preached at Everton every Lords day.

8. After this, he removed from Cambridge, to Sr William Cooks Family, then resident in London, where he made a more publick discovery of his Ministerial gifts, and was invited to the Lecturers place in Lincolns Inne. But he, according to his usual Modesty declin'd it, till Dr Mountague, Mr of Sidney Coll. then in London, with an intention to cal Mr Gataker back to the College to read the Hebrew Lecture, laying that aside, encouraged him against his own diffidence, and with his Au­thority and Arguments wrought him at last to an Assent.

9. At Lincolns Inne he spent ten years to the advancement of piety: and in the Vacations resi­ded [Page 80] and preached in the Family of Sir William Cook; to whose Lady he was neer in blood: and so dear to both, that in consideration of his pains freely taken, they setled upon Mr Gataker an Annuity of twenty pounds. This he enjoyed some few years, but after (for some reasons) gene­rously remitted unto the Heir of that Family, for­bearing to use the right he had, and forbidding his Executour to claim any Arrears of that Annuity.

10. An. 1611. being called to the Rectory of Redrith in Surrey, commending his former charge to the Grace of God, he betook himself to the sole attendance on that Flock of which God had now made him Overseer. His Indu­strie in discharge thereof was constant and great, notwithstanding an almost perpetual head­ach, wherewith God had exercised him from his very youth. To the work of his preaching on the Lords day, he added a weekly Catechetical Lecture on Friday in the Evening, which he continued, accurately and methodically, till he had gone through the whole bodie of Divinitie, and gave it over when he observed his parishoners grown to a neglect his of free labours in thatkind. Solent ultroneae putere merces. Hieron.

11. An. 1620. Having a justifiable curiosity to see our neighbour Church in the Ʋnited Pro­vinces, and something of the other Provinces in Belgium, he took the advantage of the Truce then [Page 81] between the Spaniard and the Hollander, for a free passage between both Countries. In this travel he shewed himself a good preacher to the English Church at Middleburgh, and a good Disputant to the English Papists in Flanders. God prospered his journey; and within a month, having viewed the most considerable places in the Low Coun­tries, he returned safe.

12. An. 1643. Being scarce recover'd from a violent fit of the Collick, he was called into the Assembly of Divines: where his modest and peaceable behaviour was remarkable. During his attendance there, the Mastership of Trinitie Col. in Cambridge, the greatest preferment in that Uni­versity, was offerd him. But this good man (though often importuned by many friends to accept of the motion) according to his accustom­ed Modesty refused to undertake that place of much honour and advantage, pleading, together with his unworthinesse, his old age and weaknesse of body.

13. His Gifts of edification may be seen in his Works extant, viz. Of the Nature and Use of Lots. A volum of Sermons in fol. De Novi Test. stylo Dissertatio. Comment. in M. Anton. Imp. and many more. His Polite literature was much estee­med by learned men abroad, Salmasius and others, with whom he held correspondence: And the exercise of it, with condescention to children, hath [Page 82] been admired at Tunbridge School in the Visita­tion of it. He had a felicity to make his human literature (as it ought to be) subservient to Reli­gion.

14. His graces of Sanctification were also very eminent: His pietie, in the care of Gods ordi­dinances, and love to Gods House: His Charitie, in his tender sense of the Churches Afflictions, and abridging himself of his liberty in some law­ful things to please the weak: His Humilitie, in a low esteem of his Abilities, and declining of dignities and preferments: His Meeknesse, in con­versing with the meanest, and descending to them in the way of Counsel and satisfaction of their doubts: His patience, in bearing the afflictions on his body; and his Faith, in commending his soul into the hands of God. Satur Vitae tanquam conviva recessit. An. D. 1654. aet. 80.

HE was born in Surrey, 18. Aug. 1605. the youngest son of Doctor John Ham­mond, Physician to Prince Henry, and from him had the honour at the font to receive his Christian name. Being yet in his long coats, he was sent to Eton School; and at thirteen years old, to Magd. Coll. in Oxford. Being to proceed Master of Arts, he was made Reader of the natu­ral Philosophy Lecture there. An. 1629, [...]eing twenty four years of age, he entred into holy or­ders. An. 1633, having preached at Court for Dr. Frewen, he was preferred by the Earl of Leicester to the Rectory of Pensehurst.*

1. In the discharge of his Ministerial function (at Pensehurst) he satisfyed not himself in dili­gent and constant preaching only (a performance [Page 84] wherein some of late have phansied all Religion to consist) but much more conceived himself ob­liged to the offering up the solemn dayly Sacri­fice of Prayer for his people, administring the Sacraments, relieving the poor, keeping Hospita­lity, reconciling of Differences amongst Neigh­bours, visiting the sick, catechising of the Youth.

2. As to the first of these, his Preaching, 'twas not at the rate of the Times, an unpremeditated, undigested effusion of shallow and crude conce­ptions; but a rational and just discourse, that was to teach the Priest as well as the Lay-hearer. His Method was (which likewise he recommen­ded to his Friends) after every Sermon to resolve upon the ensuing Subject; that being done, to pursue the course of study which he was then in hand with, reserving the close of the week for the provision for the next Lords-day. Whereby not only a constant progresse was made in Science, but materials unawares were gaind unto the immedi­ate future work: for, he said, be the Subject treat­ed of never so distant, somewhat will infallibly fall in conducible unto the present purpose.

3. The offices of Prayer he had in his Church, not only upon the Sundays or Festivals and their Eves, as also Wednesdayes and Fridayes, according to the appointment of the Rubrick (which strict duty and ministration, when 'tis examined to the bottome, will prove the greatest objection against [Page 85] the Liturgy) but every day in the week, and twice on Saturdays and Holy-day Eves: For his assi­stance wherein he kept a Curate, and allow'd him a comfortable Salary. And at those Devotions he took order that his Family should give diligent and exemplary attendance: which was the easilier perform'd, it being guided by his Mother, a wo­man of antient virtue, and one to whom he paid a more then filial obedience.

4. As to the Administration of the Sacrament, he reduced it to an Imitation, though a distant one, of Primitive frequency, to once a month, and therewith its anciently inseparable Appendant, the Offertory: wherein his Instruction and happily insinuating Example so far prevail'd that there was thenceforth little need of ever making any taxe for the poor. Nay (if the report of a sober person born and bred up in that Parish be to be believ'd) in short time a stock was rais'd to be alwayes rea­dy for the apprentising of young Children, whose Parents condition made the provision for them an equal Charity to both the Child and Parent. And after this there yet remain'd a superplusage for the assistance of the neighbour Parishes.

5. For the Relief of the poor, besides the fore­mention'd expedient (wherein others were sha­rers with him) unto his private Charity, the de­dicating the Tenth of all Receits, and the daily Almes given at the door, he constantly set apart [Page 86] over and above, every week, a certain rate in mo­ny. Yet farther, an other Art of Charity he had, the selling Corn to his poor Neighbours at a rate below the Market-price: which, (though, as he said, he had reason to do, gaining thereby the charge of portage) was a great benefit to them, who, besides the abatement of price and (possi­bly) forbearance, saved thereby a days work.

6. He that was thus liberal to the necessitous poor, was no lesse hospitable to those of better quality: and as at other times he frequently in­vited his Neighbours to his Table, so more espe­cially on Sundayes, which seldome past at any time without bringing some of them his guests: but here beyond the weekly treatments, the Chri­stmas Festival had a peculiar allowance to support it. He knew well how much the Application at the Table inforc'd the Doctrines of the Pulpit, and how subservient the endearing of his Person was to the recommending his instructions, how far upon these motives our Saviour thought fit to eat with Publicans and Sinners, and how effectual the loaves were to the procuring of Disciples.

7. As by publick admonition he most diligent­ly instill'd that great fundamental doctrin of Peace and Love, so did he likewise in his private addresse and conversation, being never at peace in himself till he had procur'd it among his Neigh­bours; wherein God so blest him, that he not [Page 87] only attain'd his purpose of uniting distant parties unto each other, but, contrary to the usual fate of reconcilers, gain'd them to himself: there having been no person of his function any where better beloved then he when present, or lamented more when absent, by his flock. Of which tender and very filial Affection, in stead of more, we may take two instances: the one, that he being driven away, and his books plunder'd, one of his Neigh­bours bought them in his behalf, and preserved them till the end of the War: the other, that during his abode at Pensehurst he never had any vexatious Law-dispute about his dues, but had his Tithes fully paid, and not of the most refuse parts, but generally the very best.

8. Though he judged the time of sicknesse an improper season for the great work of Repen­tance, yet he esteemed it a most usefull Prepara­tive, the voice of God himself exhorting to it: and therefore not only when desir'd made his Vi­sits to all such as stood in need of those his chari­ties, but prevented their requests by early and frequent coming to them. And this he was so carefull of▪ that after his remove from Pensehurst, being at Oxford, and hearing of the Sicknesse of one of his Parishioners, he from thence sent to him those Instructions which he judged usefull in that Exigent, and which he could not give at nearer distance.

[Page 88] 9. For the Institution of Youth in the Rudi­ments of piety, his Custome was, during the war­mer season of the year, to spend an hour before Evening prayer in Catechising, whereat the Pa­rents and older sort were wont to be present, and from whence (as he with comfort was used to say) they reaped more benefit then from his S [...]r­mons. Where it may not be superfluous to ob­serve that he introduced no new form of Cate­chism, but adher▪d to that of the Church, rendring it fully intelligible to the meanest capacities by his Explanations. (It may be usefull withall to ad­vert, that if in those times Catechetical Institution were very seasonable, 'twill now be much more; when Principles have been exchang'd for dreams of words and notions.) Besides all this, that there might be no imaginable assistance wanting, he took care for the providing an able School-master in the Parish, which he continued during the whole time of his abode.

10. And as he thus laboured in the spiritual building up of Souls, he was not negligent of the material Fabrick committed to his trust: but re­pair'd with a very great expence (the annual charge of 100 l.) his Parsonage house; til from an incommodious ruin he had renderd it a fair and pleasant dwelling, with the adherent conveni­ences of Gardens and Orchards.

11. While he was thus busie on his Charge, [Page 89] &c. But I earnestly desire the Reader to peruse the whole story of this excellent Divine excellently writ­ten by the Venerable Dean. Only, I will take leave to adde here some of his Rules and Sayings.

12. He scarcely recommended any thing in his advices with that concern and vigor, as, To be fur­nished alwaies with somewhat to do. This he pro­pos'd as the best expedient both for innocence and pleasure, assuring, That no burthen is more heavy, or temptation more dangerous, then to have Time ly on ones hand: adding, The idle mans brain is the Divels shop.

13. He profest, He had no such way of enjoying any thing, as by reflection from the person whom he loved: so that his friends being happy was the readi­est way to make him so.

14. The principal thing he contracted for in Friendship was a free use of mutual Admonition: which he extended even to undecencies, saying, It was a poor design of Friendship to keep the Person he admitted to his breast only from being scandalous; as if the Physician should endeavour only to secure his patient from the plague. And this he gave as a general rule, and enforc'd by his Example, Never to reprove in Anger, or the least appearance of it.

15. He would say, He delighted to be loved, not reverenced; thinking that where there was much of the later, there could not be enough of the [Page 90] former; somewhat of restraint and distance at­tending on the one, which was not well consistent with the perfect freedom requisite to the other.

16. To the performances of friendship he ha [...]ed all mercenary returns, whereof he was so jealous, as hardly to leave place for gratitude, Love, he said, was built upon the union and similitude of minds, and not the bribery of gifts and benefits. So generous was he herein, that he has oft profest, He admit­ted retributions of good turns, yet not so much on any score, as that his friend might have the pleasure of being kind.

17. When any one had sent him a slight pre­sent of Apples or the like, his Reward would usu­ally much exceed the value; and he would be so well pleas'd to have such an occasion of giving to a servant, saying, Alas, poor Soul, I warrant he is glad of this little matter, that this seem'd a part of the senders courtesy.

18. He was us'd to say, That 'twas a most un­reasonable and unchristian thing to despise any one for his poverty. And, That 'twas one of the greatest sensualities in the world, to Give: Upon which consideration he often took occasion to magnify the exceeding Indulgence of God, that had annext future rewards to that which was so amply its own Recompence.

19. He gave this for a Rule to those of his friends that were of estate and quality, To treat [Page 91] their poor Neighbours with such a chearfulnesse, that they may be glad to have met with them.

20. To shew how high a value he put on the Souls of men, he often broke out into words of this effect, which had with them still in the deli­very an extraordinary vehemence, O what a glo­rious thing, how rich a prize for the expence of a mans whole life were it, to be the instrument of re­scuing any one Soul!

20. His Motto of instruction to young persons was, Principiis obsta, and, Hoc age; to withstand the overtures of ill, and be intent and serious in good: to which he joyn'd a third advice, To be furnisht with a Friend.

21. For serenity and calm of Mind, he layd this Rule before him, which prov'd of great use, Never to trouble himself with the foresight of future events, being resolv'd of our Saviours Maxime, Sufficient to the day is the evil thereof.

21. If he saw any perplext about the manage of their difficult affairs, he was wont to ask them, When they would begin to trust God, or permit him to govern the World. And to himself and friends he was wont solemnly to give this mandate, Quod sis esse velis, nihilque malis; in his English, to ra­ther nothing: Not only to be content or acquiesce▪ but be resolv'd the present estate to be the very best that could be wisht or phansied.

22. He lookt upon the Kings return with pity [Page 92] and compassion, as bringing him to that uneasy, if not insuperable Task of ruling and reforming a li­centious people. It will be a blessing to his people, but unto him can not be so, but only on this score, by having opportunities through glorious self-denyals to do good.

23. When the Change approached, discoursing of occurrents, he broke forth into these words, I must confesse, I never saw that time in all my life, wherein I could so cheerfully say my Nunc dimittis, as now. Indeed I do dread prosperity, I do really dread it. For the little good I am now able to do, I can do it with deliberation and advice: but if it please God I should live and be call'd to any higher office in the Church, I must then do many things in a hurry, and shall not have time to consult with others, and I sufficiently apprehend the danger of relying on my own judgment.

24. In his last sicknesse he comforted his sad friends, saying, He should leave them in God's hands, who could supply abundantly all the assi­stance they could either expect or desire from him; and who would so provide, that they should not find his removal any losse.

25. When in his sharp agonies his friends be­took themselves to their extemporary ejaculati­ons, he compos'd those irregularities by say­ing, Let us call on God in the Voice of his Church.

[Page 92] 26. At the Communion, hearing those words of the Apostle, Jesus Christ came into the World to save sinners, he pathetically rejoyn'd, Of whom I am chief.

23. To the good Lady of the house, who asked him, what he would chiefly commend to her, he briefly answer'd, Ʋniform Obedience.

28. A few minutes before his death, he breath­ed out those words which best became his Chri­stian life, Lord make hast.

Ob. Apr. 25. 1660.

1. FOr the manner of his life and the con­stant tenour of it, this I can affirm, that therein he shewed forth the fruits of the Spirit, such as the Apostle speaks of, Love, Joy, Peace, &c. Adde hereunto that sincerity and godly purenesse that appeared in all his actions, striving not so much to seem, as verily and in­deed to be a pattern of gracious deportment, and it may be said of him, as our Saviour testifieth of Nathaniel, Behold an Israelite in whom was no guile.

2. He alwaies shewed himself most ready to minister to the necessity of the indigent and nee­dy, having a tender touch even naturally that way. Yeerly pensions he allowed whilest he lived, [Page] [Page] [Page 95] as his great charge would give him leave, to be distributed to the poor, as of the place where he was Bishop, so in other places where he had means; besides the dayly relief they of the City found at his gates. Exhibition of maintenance he con­tinued to divers poor Scholars in the University of Oxford, whose parents were not able to sustain that charge; and was ever forward in succouring and relieving poor strangers and travellers that came unto him. Whether his Alms were great or small, they were alwaies mixed with alacrity and cheerfulnesse.

3. And as he was pitiful to the poor, so very charitable towards all, and apt to forgive wrongs and injuries done unto him, hardly to be digested in the stomach of a carnal man. The vertuous and religious he alwaies praised and incouraged, using instruction and rebuke to the contrary min­ded; not in the voice of thunder, in an over zea­lous strain, but soft words of meeknesse, the most likely, if not the only winning way. And in matter of doubt, the byas of his good inclination stil hang­ed (as every good mans should do) towards the better sense. [...]. Naz.

4. His pietie must not be forgotten, his care of Gods true worship and zeal unto his house. It was his joy to see a company of well-devoted people to meet together to praise God; and to [Page 96] that end, he did not onely continue a Lecture (be­gun in his predecessors time) to be read in the Cathedral weekly on the Tuesday, by the gravest Orthodox and Conformable Preachers within his Dioces, from the time of his entrance into that See, till he dyed; being full twelve years and upward: but did usually present himself in the assembly at divine prayers and Sermons, both on the Lords Day and Lecture daies, if urgency of occasions hindred not. And certainly there is nothing that ties the hearts of the people so close unto their guides and governours, and maketh them so faithful each to other, as a joynt harmony and consent therein. Hence he gained from men a reverend esteem, he was honoured and beloved of all sorts, and God, I doubt not, in Christ, hath given him to find the fruit of his holinesse in the fruition of his blessed presence.

5. Touching the things of this world, he car­ried himself as though he looked not after them; never looking for any preferment that he had, be­fore it was by Gods providence cast upon him. Surely, the Bishoprick of Gloc. was confer­red upon him unsought for, unlooked for, at the suit of the Archb. of Cant. That of Naz. may be verified of him: [...].

6. And now for his sufficiency in learning, as therein I suppose he was inferiour to none, [Page 97] either for knowledge in Divinity, or skill in the Eastern Tongues: So joyning to the height of his knowledge the Humility of his mind, for my part I must confess, that I never knew or heard of his match. Of his exactness in those lan­guages, this may be a sufficient testimony, that he was not only thought worthy by King James of blessed memory, to be called to the Translati­on of the Bible, but was one of the twelve by whom it was revised; and at last it was referred to the final Examination of Bishop Bilson, and this our Bishop: Viri eximii & ab initio in toto hoc opere versatissimi (Synod. Dord.) who happi­ly concluded that worthy labour. The work be­ing finished, Bishop Smith was commanded to write a Preface, and so he did, in the name of all the Translators (the same that is now extant in our Church-Bible) the Original whereof I have seen under his own hand.

7. Though he were so useful an instrument, so strong a helper in the former work, as also the Sole-authour of this latter, the Preface: (a comely Gate to so rich and glorious a City:) yet could I never hear that he did at any time speak of either, with any attribution to himself more then to the rest. So that as the Sun, the nearer it cometh to the Zenith, the less shadow it causeth; so certainly the higher he mounted into the myste­ries of Divine and Humane knowledge, the [Page 98] lower and less he seemed to be in his own eyes [...]. As Naz. spake of Athanasius.

8. And now concerning the course of his stu­dies (wherein I would propose him as a Patern to be imitated by young students in our [...]niversi­ties) he constantly applyed himself from his youth (as they that were then acquainted with him know) to the reading of antient Classical Au­thours of the best note in their own languages: Wherewith, as with the Neoterick, he was plentisully stored, and lufted after no worldly things, so much as books: Nullius rei praeterquam librorum avarus, was sometime his own speech merrily, but (as I perswade my self) truly, for there was scarcely a book (in so great a num­ber) to be found in his Library, especially of the Antients, that he had not read over, a capite ad calcem, as hath been observed by those that had the perusal of them since his death.

9. He ran through the Greek and Latine Fa­thers, and judiciously noted them in the margent, being sitted for that purpose by the dextrous use of his pen, wherein he came not short even of P [...]ofes [...]ots themselves in that faculty. The Rab­bins also, so many as he had, with their Glosses and Commentaries, he read and used in their own id [...]om of speech: and so conversant he was and ex [...]t in the Chaldee, Syriac, and Arabic, that [Page 99] he made them as familiar to him almost, as his own native Tongue.

10. But for the Hebrew, this I can affirm from credible relation, that being upon a time sent un­to and requested (whilest he was a Residentiary in the Cathedral Church of Hereford: which ci­ty was also honoured with his birth) by the then Dean of the same Church, upon special occasion to read the first lesson at evening prayer there, he yeilded thereunto; and having with him a little Hebrew Bible (the same I suppose that he af­terwards used to his death) of Plantins impression sine punctis; he delivered the Chapter there in the English Tongue plainly and fully, to that learned and judicious Auditory: (Far be from us any suspicion of Ostentation in him for that act, who never knew to boast of himself, or any thing that he had, or any thing that he did.)

11. Stories of all times he knew, and for his rich and accomplisht furniture in that study, had this Elogium given him by a grave and learned Bishop, B. King, to be a very walking Library. And he was so well acquainted with the site of places, Topography, and observed so well the time when every thing of note was done in those seve­ral places, that he hath caused great Travellers and Scholers falling into discourse with him, to depart away with admiration of his skill.