Google
This is a digital copy of a book that was preserved for generations on library shelves before it was carefully scanned by Google as part of a project
to make the world's books discoverable online.
It has survived long enough for the copyright to expire and the book to enter the public domain. A public domain book is one that was never subject
to copyright or whose legal copyright term has expired. Whether a book is in the public domain may vary country to country. Public domain books
are our gateways to the past, representing a wealth of history, culture and knowledge that's often difficult to discover.
Marks, notations and other maiginalia present in the original volume will appear in this file - a reminder of this book's long journey from the
publisher to a library and finally to you.
Usage guidelines
Google is proud to partner with libraries to digitize public domain materials and make them widely accessible. Public domain books belong to the
public and we are merely their custodians. Nevertheless, this work is expensive, so in order to keep providing tliis resource, we liave taken steps to
prevent abuse by commercial parties, including placing technical restrictions on automated querying.
We also ask that you:
+ Make non-commercial use of the files We designed Google Book Search for use by individuals, and we request that you use these files for
personal, non-commercial purposes.
+ Refrain fivm automated querying Do not send automated queries of any sort to Google's system: If you are conducting research on machine
translation, optical character recognition or other areas where access to a large amount of text is helpful, please contact us. We encourage the
use of public domain materials for these purposes and may be able to help.
+ Maintain attributionTht GoogXt "watermark" you see on each file is essential for in forming people about this project and helping them find
additional materials through Google Book Search. Please do not remove it.
+ Keep it legal Whatever your use, remember that you are responsible for ensuring that what you are doing is legal. Do not assume that just
because we believe a book is in the public domain for users in the United States, that the work is also in the public domain for users in other
countries. Whether a book is still in copyright varies from country to country, and we can't offer guidance on whether any specific use of
any specific book is allowed. Please do not assume that a book's appearance in Google Book Search means it can be used in any manner
anywhere in the world. Copyright infringement liabili^ can be quite severe.
About Google Book Search
Google's mission is to organize the world's information and to make it universally accessible and useful. Google Book Search helps readers
discover the world's books while helping authors and publishers reach new audiences. You can search through the full text of this book on the web
at |http: //books .google .com/I
LIFE
OH
THE LEARNED
SIR JOHN CHEKE, K'.
FIRST INSTRUCTOR, AFTERWARDS SErRRTARYOF KTAI
KING EDWARD VI.
ONE OF THK GREAT HESTOREKS OF GOOD LEARNING AND
TRUE RELIGION IN THIS KINGDOM.
A Work wherein niaay remarkable Points of HisWry, rrlntiiis to tlie Sl«te of
Learning and Religion in tlie Times of King Henry Vlll. Kin^
Edward VI. and Queen Mary I. are lirought lo lig\it.
Ei A TREATISE OF SUPERSTITION,
f Writ by the lud li^arned Knight,
H
BY JOHN STRYl'E, M. A.
|A NKW EDITION, CORRECTED BY THE AIJTHOR.
^OXFORD,
AT THE CLARENDON PRESS. ,
MDCCtXXI.
"^-
CI 3 ^4' n
X HIS edition of Strype's Life of Sir John Cheke,
as well as that lately published of SirThomas Smithy
is printed verbatim .from a copy corrected by the
Author, which is the property of Mr. Watson Tay-
lor, and with the use of which he was pleased to
oblige the Delegates of the Clarendon Press.
Feb.lS2l.
^ 2
TO
THE RIGHT WORSHIPFUL
EDWARD CHEEK OF PYRGO, ESQ.
SIR,
*
xSE pleased to accept this book of the Life of the
right worthy and ever memorable Sir John Cheke,
your great great grandfather, who derives an ho^
nour upon you that are sprung in a direct line from
him. To you therefore it most properly belongs.
And further, it may be of this use to you, that by
reading and knowing his extraordinary accomplish-
ments, they may be your continual mementos, not
to degenerate from, but to imitate, as much as may
be, such a forefather.
The cause that moved me to write this Life, was
the notable figure Cheke made in this island in his
time ; having been a rare instrument of doing good
to his country, (the effects whereof remain to this
day,) not only in the wise and happy modelling of
an excellent Prince to govern the State, but also in
furthering most successfully solid and useful learn-
ing in the University, and the pure religion of the
Gospel in Court and kingdom: though it raised
him up implacable enemies of the Popish faction,
brought him into extreme troubles, and shortened
his life. And therefore it is highly becoming, nay,
I may say, a public debt, to preserve his name and
memory.
a3
It is true. Sir, I do not pretend to be either the
first or only writer of his Life. For Gerard Lang-
bain, D. D. in the time of the civil wars, and David
Lloyd since, and Holland before them both, have
done something that way. But their writings are
so slight, superficial, and deficient, and so full of
errors and impositions upon the readers credulity,
that something more full and correct was necessary,
to give a better representation of this gentleman to
the world; which I have endeavoured to do; and
perhaps I have had greater advantages than others
to do it.
My inchnations (I know not how) have carried
me now for many years to search more curiously
into the affairs of that age. And in my pursuits I
have conversed with many records, manuscripts, ori-
ginal letters, as well as other old thrown-by printed
books, and some of them rare ones too. And from
the multifarious collections and transcripts taken
thence, I have been furnished with materials for
the composing this tract. Which (whatever it be)
I have done with all care, faithfulness, and integrity.
For as I love not to be imposed upon myself, so
neither to impose upon others. The opportunities
I have had (I will not say, the pains I have taken)
in making myself acquainted with Chekc's life and
actions, may appear by that catalogue of books and
papers set down afterwards, which I have made use
of.
There was, Sir, another reason excited me to
this undertaking. It was not long ago I printed
the Life of Sir Thomas Smith, his dear friend and
contemporary ill the same University; both joint-
THE DEDICATION. vii
promoters of true religion and good literature; both
King Henry's Scholars ; both raised and brought to
Court by the fame of their learning ; and both at
length Privy Counsellors and Secretaries of State,
and both sufferers for religion ; so that I reckoned
my work but half done, while Cheke's Life re-
mained unwritten. Which therefore I have now
done ; and do shew (somewhat to my own satisfac-
tion) this incomparable pair to the English world.
And, Sir, methinks it is not to be passed oVer
without a remark, how the parallel between these
two great men still continues; that the heirs of
both flourish to this day, in two noble seats in the
same county, mounted upon two pleasant hills, in
prospect one of another, viz. Hillhall and your Pyr-
go; remaining lasting remembrances of the names
of Smith and Cheke. But as God hath blessed
each of you with an hopeful heir male, so may they
prove the best monuments of their blessed ances-
tors: and may they become excellent patterns of
wisdom, sobriety, and usefulness ; the best way to
entail God's blessing upon both your houses and
families, and to perpetuate them in wealth and ho-
nour. Which is the prayer of.
Sir,
Your most humble Servant,
JOHN STRYPE.
z4
ADVERTISEMENT.
At the end of this Life is added a Discourse made by
Sir John Cheke concerning Superstition; which he set
before his Latin translation of a tract of Plutarch upon the
same subject, by way of dedication to King Henry VIII.
It hath lien, for ought I know, this hundred and fifty years
and more in obscurity ; but lately discovered in the library
qf University college, Oxon, by the Reverend Mr.W. Elstob,
then a Fellow of that house : who did not only courteously
transcribe it for me, but hath now voluntarily taken the
pains to translate it out of Cheke's elegant Latin into
English, for the more common benefit. It is indeed im-
perfect, and defective of some pages, which is great pity ;
but the greatest part is remaining, and worthy to be pre-
served, to shew the learning of the writer, and likewise his
good intention and desire of forwarding a reformation of
the Church of England in those times, and of exciting
King Henry, as far as be durst, to cast off the supersti-^
tions and corruptions mixed vrith the public worship of
God then used.
And as we have retrieved this piece of this learned man,
so it is heartily to be wished that other of his works and
writings might come to light.
J. S.
CHAPTERS AND CONTENTS.
CHAP. I.
A VIEW of Sir John Cheke, from his birth to his leaving
the University, and advancement at Court. P. 1
Sect. 1, Cheke's birth and family 5 vindicated. His nativity. Ann. 1514,
Parents. Sect. 2. His education^ proficiency ^ usefulness at St. ^*^'*'
John's college. Sect. 3. Made the King's Greek Professor. Re- 1549,
forms the pronunciation of Greek. Sect. 4. Letters pass between ^^^^*
Cheke and the Chancellor of the University about it* Sect. 5.
What and hov^ Cheke read. Sect. 6, Cheke^ University Orator.
CHAP. n.
From Cheke's coming to Court, to his advancement to the
Provostship of King's college in Cambridge. P. 22
Sect. 1. Cheke removed to Coin-t. Instructs the Prince. The Ann. 1544,
loss of him at Cambridge. Made Canon of Christ's Church, *^*»
Oxou. His usefulness. Sect. 2. His offices to his friends. Sect. 3. 1643!
His private studies. Sect. 4. Cheke's interest under King Edward.
Applied to. Marries. Sect. 5. His preferments and benefits ob-
tained from King Edward. Made Provost of King's college.
CHAP. m.
From Cheke's retirement to Cambridge, to his receiving
the honour of knighthood. P. 39
Sect. ]. Goes to Cambridge. Visits the University by com- Ann. 1549,
mission from the King, Resides there. Writes a book against ^^^®'
the rebels. Sect. 2. Cheke's Book, viz. The true Subject to the
Rebel. Sect. 3. Returns to the CourU His troubles tliere. Ui»
X CHAPTERS
wife offends the Duchess of Somerset. Sect. 4. Preferred at
Courts aud does good offices for men of religion and learning.
Sect. 5. Procures Ascham to go Secretary in an Embassy to the
Emperor. Sect. 6, Cheke translates the Communion Book. His
friendship with Martyr and Bucer. Hath a son. Sect. J. Reads
Aristotle's Ethics in Greek to the King. Instructs him for
government. Sect. 8. Concerned about the death of Bucer, the
King's Divinity Professor at Cambridge. Sect. p. Writes piously
to Dr. Haddon^ being sick.
CHAP. IV.
From the time of Cheke's knighthood^ to his being made
a Privy Comisellor and Secretary of State. P. 66
Ann. 1561, Sect. 1. Cheke is knighted. Sect. 2. Inquisitive after Dr. Red-
man's declaration concerning religion at his death. Sect. 3.
His disputations concerning the Sacrament. Sect. 4. Resigns
his Greek Professorship. Gets Leland*s MSS. Falls sick. Sect. 5.
Cheke at Cambridge. Departs thence to the King. Places con-
ferred on him. ^
CHAP. V.
From Sir John Cheke's highest advancements to his exile ;
and from thence to his surprise^ imprisonment, recanta-
tion, repentance, and death. P. 91
Ann. 1553 Sect. 1. Cheke's highest advancements. A Privy Counsellor.
—1557. Secretary of State. Stands for the Lady Jane. Sect. 2. Com-
mitted^ indicted^ pardoned. Travels abroad. Sojourns at Strat-
burg. Sect. 3. Some letters of his printed. Writes to Cecil.
His condition become mean. Reads a Greek lecture at Stras-
burg. Taken prisoner^ and brought to England. Sect. 4, Too
credulous to astrology. Betrayed. Complies. Subscribes. Re-
cants. Sect. 5. His submission to Cardinal Pole as the Pope's
Legate; and his recantations. Sect. 6, Observations upon
Cheke*8 recantations. The Queen grants him lands in exchange.
Sect. 7* What bappeifed to him after his recantation. Trou-
bled. Repents. Dies. ' Sect. 8. His circumstances at his death.
His arms. His person. His lady. Her fortune. Mac Williaint
her second husband. Some account of him. Her death.
AND CONTENTS. xi
CHAP. VI. '
Sir John Cheke's posterity. P. 188
Sect. 1 . Cheke*s three sons : Henry Cheke, eldest son ; John
Cheke, the second 5 Edward, the third. Sect. 2. Henry Cheke>
Sir John*s eldest son. Sect. 3. Sir Thomas Cheke, son of Sir
Henry. His honourable posterity.
CHAP. vn.
Observations upon Sir John Cheke. P. 148
Seet. 1. His natural disposition, and the endowments oi his
mind. Sect. 2. His learning. Sect. 3. Cheke considered as a
critic. Sect. 4. Cheke an author. His writings.
CHAP. vin.
Some observations upon Sir John Cheke^s religion and
principles. His fortune and his fall. The conclusion,
P. 173
Sect. 1. Cheke's religion. Sect. 2. His religious practices.
Sect. 3. His fortunes. Sect. 4. His fall.
A learned Discourse of Superstition, by Sir John Cheke.
P. 189
REMARKABLE LETTERS OF SIR JOHN CHEKE
AND OTHERS, COLLECTED IN
THIS HISTORY.
ChEKE to Dr. Matthew Parker, Queen Anne's Chap-
lain, in behsdf of Bill, a Scholar of St. John's college, p. 9.
To Stephen, Bishop of Winton, Chancellor of Cambridge,
concerning his new way of pronouncing the Greek, p. 15.
To Dr. Butts, the King's Physician, being sick, consolatory,
p. 26. To Peter Osbom, from Cambridge, where he was re-
tired from Court, p. 39. To the Duchess of Somerset, ex-
cusing his wife, under her Grace's displeasiu-e, p. 45. To
Martin Bucer, upon his recovery from sickness, p. 54. To
the same, concerning John Sleidan's pension, p. 55. To Peter
Martyr, consolatory upon the death of Dr. Bucer, p. 58.
To Dr. Parker and the University, on the same occasion,
p. 61. To Walter Haddon, upon his sickness, p. 63. To
Sir William Cecil, from Strasburg, giving him warning
against compliance with the Popish religion, p. 99. To
Queen Mary, declaring his submission, p. 112. To Cecil,
in Greek, in behalf of a poor foreign Bishop come into
England, p. 176.
The University of Cambridge to Cheke, congratulatory,
upon the access of King Edward to the throne, p. 33.
Stephen, Bishop of Winton, and Chancellor of Cam-
bridge, to Cheke, prohibitory of his new way brought in
of sounding the Greek letters, p. 15.
Walter Haddon, LL. D. to Cheke, upon his leaving the*
University, p. 23. To the same, upon his translation and
edition of certain Orations of Chrysostom de Fato, p. 31.
Nicolas Car to Cheke, consolatory, concerning the death
of Dr. Martin Bucer, p. 58,
Roger Ascham to Cecil, upon the hope of Cheke's pre-
ferment to the provostship of King's college, p. 35. To
Cheke, from Germany, shewing the state of religion and
REMARKABLE LETTERS, &c. xui
learning abroad, p. 49. To the same, congratulatory of his
high advancement at Com:!, p. 92.
Yong to Cheke, concerning the declarations of Dr. Red-
man on his death-bed, concerning certain points of reli-
gion, p. 67.
Thomas Lever to Ascham, concerning Cheke's recovery,
p. 89.
Archbishop Cranmer to Cecil, signifying his concern for
Cheke's troubles upon Queen Mary^s coming to the Crown,
p. 94.
Lady Frances Cooke to the Lord Burghley, about pre-
cedency to the Lady Cheke, p. 135.
John Cheke, son of Sir John Cheke, to the Lord Burgh-
ley, upon his going to the war, p. 139.
Bartholomew Clark, LL. D. to Cecil, concerning the
proficiency of Henry Cheke at Cambridge, p. 140.
BOOKS AND MANUSCRIPTS MADE USE OF OR
MENTIONED IN THIS WORK.
V ARIA penes me MSSta.
Visitation Books in the Office of Arms.
Weever's Funeral Monuments.
Bishop of Lqndon's Register.
Fuller's Worthies.
Fox's Acts and Monuments.
His Martyrology, the first edition.
A MS. of Dr. Sloan's.
Checi de Recta Grsec^e Linguae Pronuntiatione.
Epistola D. Winton Checo in libro preefat.
Cselii Secundi Curionis Epist. Dedicatoria eidem Libro.
^Aschami Epistolae.
Lelandi Epigrammata.
Dixoni Poemata, MSS.
Volumen Epistolarum in Biblioth. C. C. C. C.
Dr. Langbain's Life of Cheke.
xiy BOOKS AND MANUSCRIPTS.
Haddoni Epistolae.
Register of the University of Oxon.
Johan. Foxii MSS.
Sir John Hajm^ard's Life of King Edward VL
The Hurt of Sedition, written by Cheke.
HoUnshed's Ohronicle.
Warrant Book of King Edward VI. Of his Gifts, CirantSy
Sales, &c.
Council Book of King Edward VI.
Athenae Oxonienses.
Order of the Policy and Offices of the Realm.
Bracton.
Bale's Centuries, &*st edition, in quarto.
Dr. Laurence Humphry de Nobilitate.
Ihr. Ponet's Treatise of Politick Power.
MSS. of William Petyt, Esq. Keeper of the Tower Re-
cords.
The Decretals.
Petri Martyris Epistolae. Edit. Genev.
MSS. of Sir Henry St. George, Knight, Garter King at
Arms.
H. Holland's Heroologia«
Sir Thomas Chaloner's Miscellanea.
Dugdale's Baronage.
Dr.^rhomas Wylson's English Translation of DemoatbeiMSs'
Orations.
Epistola Nic. Carri de Morte Buceri.
Life of Sir Thomas Smith, Knight.
Miscellanea D. in Biblioth. C.C.C.C.
State Worthies, by Lloyd.
Grotii Annotationes in Novum Testamentum.
Monasticon Anglicanum.
THE
LIFE
OP
THE LEARNED
SIR JOHN CHEKE.
CHAP. I.
A view of Sir John Chekey from his birth to his leaving
the University y and advancement at Court.
OIR JOHN CHEKE was raised purely by his learned Anno isu.
abilities, and his name requires a place among the most
memorable men of those times, being oiie of the completest
scholars for Latin and Greek leammg in that age ; and
having the happiness to be the chief instructor of the
blessed King Edward's youth, a Prince so singular for
learning, knowledge, and religion, that he wanted nothmg
but a longer life to render him one of the most illustrious
monarchs in the world : in the prfuse whereof, Cheke, his
guide and teacher, must have a share.
Being minded to revive the memory oif this gentleman,
I shall endeavour to give a view of him ; first, from his
birth to his leaving of the University, and coming to Court ;
next, from his coming to Court, to his travels abroad and
exile ; and lastly, from bis exile to his return and death.
SECT. L
Cheke* s birth and family ; vindicated. His nativity.
Parents.
IT is one of the chief honours of the town of Cambridge, cunbridge,
that Cheke was bom there ; at which place his father set- I^^]|!pigjce.
B
2 THE LIFE OF
tied, upon occasion of his matching with a gentlewoman
_ of that county. For the family was anciently of the Isle
*■ of Wight, where it long flourished in wealth anrf reputa-
tion, and received accessions <^ honour by divers inter-
marriages. For Hayward, who wrote the life of King Ed-
ward VX. must be corrected, who, iu that book, hath done
this gentleman wrong, in disparaging his pedigree,a8 though
it were obscure; where, speaking of the Prince's tutors,
Dr. Cox and Sir John Cheke, he describes them to have
been " of mean birth ; and that they might be said to be
" born of themselves, for the esteem of their virtue and
" learning, by reason of the place of their emplojTnent."
y He was the sou and heir of Peter Cheke, a younger
brother of the ancient house of the Chekes of Motaton in
the Isle of Wight. For to fetch his genealogy for some
generations backward, as it lies in the visitation-booka of
the heralds; Richard Cheke of Motston, in the time of
Richard IL married one of the daughters of Montacute, or
Montague. His son was called Edward, who married a
daughter of Trenenian. By whom he had John Cheke of
Motfitone, that matched with a daughter of Tremain. By
whom he had issue John, whose wife waa a daughter of
Glamorgan, of the county of Southampton. His son was
Robert, who married the daughter of Brcmshot of Brem-
shot. Whose sons were David and Peter, the father of
John Clieke, the subject of our story, David's line for
divers generations after him enjoyed Motstone.
Peter, the second son, married Agnes, daughter of Duf-
ford [i. e. De Ufford, a great name once] of the county of
Cambridge, a grave, wise, and good woman. Ascbmu, tn
one of his epistles, styles her venerandam it/am /ipt/iinam,
i. e. that venerable woman. By whom Peter had Anne,
married to George AUington ; Alice, to Dr. BUtlie, the first
public King's Reader of the Physic Lecture in the Univer-
sity of Cambridge. He was of King's college, and some-
time Proctor there ; and a traveller beyond sea: Elizabeth,
to Spcringj Mary, matched with Sir William Cecil, af-
terwards Secretary of State to King Edward and Queen
SIR JOHN CHEKE. S
Elizabeth; and Magdalen, first married to Eresby, then sect.
to John Purefoy of Leicestershire. And besides these ,
daughtei-9, he had, by the saine Agnes, John his son andA"no '^u.
heir.
If one were minded to seek further after this family, weOthen of
might be told of one Margaret Chelie, who obtained a li-of ul^*
cence from King Richard III. to found a chaimtry for onetii»i"»-
Priest, in the parish church of Long Ashton, nigh Bristol ; bool^of tii«t
which bespake her a person of quality and wealth. We ^'"S-
might be told, that some of this name were dispersed in
Suffolk, where, in the parish church of Debnani, anno 1 440, weev. Mon,
was buried John Cheke, gentleman. There also lay buried'''
Robert Cheke, and Rose his wife, as appears by a monu-
mental inscription there. The name also flourished in the
city of London in Queen Elizabetli's time : where was also
one John Cheke, a wealthy citizen of the Company of
Mercers ; who, upon a loan from the city, anno 15SS, that
memorable year, (when tlie richest sort of all the conipa-
nieB lent their proportions to the Queen,) for his share lent
her 100/, To which I add another Cheke, named also
John, ordained Deacon anno 1560, by Grindal, Bishop of
London ; which John is charactered in the Book of Ordina-
tions to be liberie conditionis, et laudabilis commendalio- Regist. Bp.
nis, i. e. of genteel extract, as well as laudable life and
conversation.
These I the rather mention, to extinguish that ill report cbeke'a
Sir John Hayward had suggested to the world of oui" ^"^'Jj'^'""
Cheke's mean birth; whom Dr. Fuller also hath taken
notice of with some just indignation, leaving him this cha-
racter for his pains, that " he was a learned pen, hut too Full. Wor-
" free in dealing disgraceful characters on the subjects
" thereof:" adding this further account of Cliekc's family,
that the paternal estate was 300?. per annum, never in-
creased nor diminished till twenty years i^o, [that is, so
many years before the time of Fuller's writing this,] when
it was sold outright; and that one of those Chekes in
Richard the II.'s days married a daughter of the Lord
Mountague's ; though it may be intjuired, whqfher that
THE LIFE OF
CHAP.
I.
Ann. I614y
et fcq.
In what
year born.
Actf and
Mon. first
edit. p. 807.
A MS. of
Dr. Sloan'f .
Cheke's
nativity*
family were advanced to the honour of barons so anciently
as that King's time.
The gentleman of whom we are to write was bom in
the year 1514, as I collect from his age, when he was
called in for a witness to answer certain interrogatories
concerning Bishop Gardiner, in December or January, anno
1550, being then set down to be thirty-six years of age:
and more certainly from his nativity, calculated by his
dear friend Sir Thomas Smith, that he was bom the same
year, on the 16th day of June, at two of the clock five
minutes afternoon. And perhaps it may not be unaccept-
able to some to exhibit this scheme of his nativity, drawn
up by so notable a man.
HUpM«nU* His parents bore a repute in Cambridge for their ho-
***"*^'" nesty and integrity : and that character Gardiner Bishop
of Winchester himself gave of them ; who, while he lived
SIR JOHN CHEKE. 5
in Cambridge, and resided in Trinity hall there, main- SEdt.
tained a good acquaintance and friendship with them, as '
in one of his controversial letters to Chelte he hints ; tell- ^""- '*'*■
ing him, that he had his "education under honest parents, '^''*
and such as were among the number of the h^st.
SECT. U.
His educaiicm, praficienfy ; usefulness at Si. John's
College,
HE was bred up to learning, and from the grammai-Admitisd
school was admitted into St. John's college in Cambridge. j"[|^:.
Which, as it communicated good literature and sound re-
ligion to him, so he afterwards proved a singular ornament
to it. For here he seemed not only to receive the grounds
of learning, but also the principles of true religion, and
the knowledge and love of the Gospel, which he so closely
adhered to, and so heartily professed, and endured so much
for afterwards. For this waa one of the colleges in that
University, which in Cardinal Wolsey's days was noted
for reading privately the holy Scriptures and Luther's
boobB, and for their discovering thereby the abuses of re-
ligion. In this college, in the middle and latter times of
King Henry VIII, many excellently learned persons sprang
np, who unveiled and exposed the groaa errors and cor-
ruptions wherewith the Popes of Rome and their party
had imposed upon the Church of Christ. Here were the
Jjevers and the Pilkintons, afterwards exceeding useful
preachers under King Edward, and exiles under Queen
Mary. Here was Taylor, afterward Bishop of Lincoln,
turned out of the House of Lords in Queen Mary's first
Parliament, for no reason, whatsoever was pretended, un-
less for his religion. Here were Roger Ascham, Huttrhin-
.8on, Raven, Grindal, (tutor to the Lady Elizabeth,) and
.divers others, who disputed at home, and offered to do so
lore publicly in the Schools, against the Mass.
ireatibiu probis {itque adm optioiis. Ep, D. Winlun, Checo,
CHAP.
Ann. 1S34,
etwq.
Made tlie
King's
Scholar,
a THE LIFE OF
Cheke so closely plied his studies, that he soon becat
a scholar of note, and, though but young, arrived to excel-
lent skill iu the learned languages. So that the conimen-
datiou of him, and of hia parts and abilities, came to the
King, chiefly.by the means of Dr. Butts, the King's Phy-
sician, who was Cheke's great friend, counsellor, and the
encouragcr of his studies, and whom he called his patron ;
and to whom he once wrote a pious letter from Hartford,
(where he was with Prince Edward,) upon a fit of sick-
ness. For Chcke being once at Court with Butts, he took
occasion to recommend him to the King for a singular
scholar, and particularly for his study and proficiency iu
the Greek tongue. And being thus known to the King,
he soon after advanced him to the honour to be his
Scholar, together with one*" Smith of Queen's college,
aftenynrds aufficiently known, being Secretary of State,
and employed in embassies abroad. To both whom the
King exhibited for the encouragement of their studies*
and for the bearing of their expenses of travel into foreign
countries. A very good practice formerly used by our
Princes, to fit and tnuii up young scholars for the service
of the King and Court, to be Ambassadors, Secretaries,
Privy Counsellors, Bishops, Tutors to the nobility, and
the like ; having learned the languages of other countries,
acqumnted themselves with their customs, and visited the
Courts of Princes. This qualified Chcke to be sent for to
the Court, and to have the young Prince Edward com-
□utted to his care and charge, as we shall see by and by.
And aa he :uid Smith were partners and consorts in the
King's favour, ao were they constant companions, being
both of like age, conditions, studiousness, and pursuii^
the same methods of good learning. And though there
was an eniulatiou between them, who should outdo the
other, yet so generoua were the tempers of these young
men, that it was so far from begetting envy between them,
that, on the contrary, it knit thtfm together in the most
intimate Meiidship and endearments, like natural brethren.
>> SitThuDiu.
SIR JOHN CHEKE. ?
But this distmguiahing favour of the KLig, and that Btart .sect.
they got m their studies beyond others, khidled a secret '
hatred and malice against them in the minds of niany of '^'"i- i&^o
the rest of the University, and which they more manifestly
shewed in that opposition they made to them afterwards,
when they attempted the bringing in ii more correct way
of residing the Greek tongue.
While Mr. Cheke was in the college, what with his St. jdUh's
exemplary industry in liis own studies, what with his dill- j(^url*»a
gent instruction of the youth under him, St. Jolm's flou- ''yihemsan!
rished. He directed to a hetter method of study, and to lestning.
more substantial and useful learning : so that he was s^d
by one that Ituew him very well, '* '^to have laid the very
" foundations of learning in that college." Under whom,
or with whom, were bred Denny, Redman, Bil, Lever,
Pilkington, Tong, Ayre, Ascham, Cecil, and others, spread
abroad afterwards m Court, and in places of trust and ho-
_ nour both in Church and State. The two last mentioned
were his scholars of such a size and magnitude, that they
deserve to be mentioned again. Sir William Cecil was one, (fei\, hn
whom Leland in one of his epigrams to him takes notice ''"'"'■
of for this :
Candidus erudiit noster te Chmcvs amicus,
Chj&ccs Cecropii gloria prima gregis.
And one Dixon, a good poet in those times, in certain
verses dedicated to him, when he came to speak of his
education at Cambridge, thus expressed it :
j4tque frequentahas tunc numina docta sorormit,
Sub Checo hunitmo, doctiloquoqne viro.
And what an honour must the education of such a miin as
Cecil derive upon his tutor; that prored afterwards one of
thewisest,jufitest,andmostfortunate Statesmen in Europe;
and to whose counsels and deliberations, the wonderful and
long successes of Queen Ehzabeth must, under God, be
JipUl. ii. ia.
S THE LIFE OF
chiefly attributed? The other was Roger ABcham'', e
_ of the politest Latin writers of that generation, or any
'■ after. Whose learning and ingenuity appear in those two
, books* he left behind bini, jTAe Svhoolmaxter, and The
Art of Shooting out of a Bow. He wan tutor in the Latin
and Greek tongue to the Lady Elizabeth, aftem'ards Se-
cretary of an embassy from King Edward to the Emperor ;
and, upon the decease of that Kuig, Latin Secretary to
Queen Mary and Queen Elizabeth successively, as he waa
designed for that Kingf, had he lived.
And all that good service that that well known person.
Dr. Bitlj afterwards did in the Churcli and University, was
in a great measure owing to the instruction and firiendsbip
of Cheke, whose scholar he seemed to be : Dr. Bill, I eay,
that was Master of St. John's college, Dean of Westmin-
ster, Almoner to Queen Elizabeth, one of the Visitors of
the University, and concerned in making the statutes for
that colle^ate Church, and (if 1 mistake not) Provost of
Eton, and in his time a great promoter of virtue and true
'■ religion in these capacities. This man, when a student in
" that college of St. John's, was very poor ; and being Ba-
■ chelorof Arts, when he should have been clioscn Fellow, had
not wherewithal to discharge the tirreaj's of college debts ;
a thing necessary in order to his election. By which means
it was deferred, and perhaps he might have been forced at
last to have quitted his course of studies, and left tlie Uni-
versity. At this pinch Cheke procured him a friend at
Court with Queen Anne Bolen, a lady extraordinary mu-
niticent towards deserving scholars that needed snpporta-
tion in their stucUes. So that nothing was wanting but
the recommendation of such to her by Skip or Parker, or
some other of her chief Chaplains, and the business was
effected. Cheke about Michaelmas earnestly despatched
' This AKham, ibe<rioK Ihe nilei fur Inir imiUliDn, whitl. Iw uUlt lh«
,. iwmuiy tooU and uiftivmenli whenwiLli it ii wnmgM, hiUi, " 1 opeoljr
. '* confru (hcj bt not of mine own fiirgfiiig, hut p»rtlj left uuto me tij lbs
" cuniiingnt aiuler, ind on* of tli* worthies! jenllimtn, tliil rier EngUnd
k
SIR JOHN CHEKE. 9
a letter U) Parker, laying open the condition of Bill to him, sect.
giving him the character of IHeratus et honesius, <)ui el
rertivi cognitione abtindat et ititegritate morum ; \, e. Ann. imo,
learned and honest, plentifully endowed with knowledge
of things, and incorrupt in his nianiiere ; that he had come
into Ms fellowship before Easter, but that he could not get
his money ready. He prayed Parker to acquaint the Queen
with his condition, and to procure him favour from her;
which if he would do, it would be a thing pious and holy,
in promoting the studies and good learning of such as were
overburdened ivith the miefortune of poverty : and that if
he obtained this for him before All-Saints day, he would ,
hereby do a further good deed ; that is, not only to put Bill I
in possession of his fellowship, but give an opportunity to I
others to come into his room, there being then to be an
election of Scholars to succeed into the empty scholar- I
ships; and him, viz. Cheke, he should infinitely oblige.
And this no question was compassed by this seasonable
mediation, and a foundation laid for Dr. Bill's useful learn-
ing, preferments, and influence on the public. He prefer-
red iugenious and studious scholars of his college, as it
lay in his way. William Grmdal, bred up under Roger
Ascham, and the best Grecian one of them in the Uni- i
versity, he took from the college; and after some time I
keeping him with him, preferred him, in King Henry the
Eighth's time, to read Greek to the Lady Elizabeth. As-
cham recommended him to Cheke, with a great character A"*""" *^p-
(as fit for a Court) for his learning and studiousness, for
hia taciturnity, fidelity, and abstinence ; and ready to take I
any business Cheke should put him upon. He died in the '
Lady Elizabeth's family, a young man of great hopes.
And this then was the flourishing estate of the college,
while Cheke, and his friends, and scholars were there. But
to keep up the former good condition of that house, As-
cham, after some discontinuance, desired of Secretary Ce-
ril to have leave to return back there again, when all the
rest were gone, like seed to propagate true learning and
piety. Wherein he thus expressed himself: " Seehig the**''''''*^*''
'" goodly crop of Mr. Cheke was almost clean carried from joiin't.
10
THE LIFE OF
ReligL
uiuugm
« takdH
realnJH
CHAP. " thence, [i. e. the college,] and I in a manner alone^
^- " that time left a standing straggler, peradventure thougn
Inn. 1540, "my fruit be very small, yet, because the ground from
'"^' " whence it springs was so good, I may yet be thought
" somewhat fit for seed, when all you the rest are t
" up for better store ; wherewith the King and the r
" now so nobly served."
In short, Cheke promoted good religion as well as learn-
ing in hia college by his laboiirs, which had a very good
influence upon that society long after. So that these hro
things he made his great aim : the one was to set on foot
universal learning in the college; that it might not be
without some that were well studied in each liberal science,
and that each scholar, according as Ills genius prompted
him, might make either one or other the main subject of
his study: and so St. John'sB become a storehouse of i
good learning. The other thing he aimed at, was
into the college the study especially of divinity: not a
a divuiity aa prevailed then in the world, corrupt and d
founded with such principles and doctrines as were e
discovered to. be brought in by designing men, on purp
to obtain secular ends, and to aggrandize the Bishop 4
Rome, and make all the world dependent on him ; but
such a divinity as was from God, stripped of all such gross
frauds and abuses. An<l, for that purpose, he advised tbi
a man should come to the study of divinity, without h
at all prepossessed with the commonly received not
hut that he shoidd fetch the whole doctrine of Christ e
of the fountains of Scripture, where the avowed principles
of Christianity lie ; and next unto them, from the priiui-
tive and apostolical M'ritings, which were the nearest t
those fountains. And withal he particularly recomnieiM
this ride, that the greatest care and caution should be Ii
that nothing be derived from the sink of PelagLamsm'>f ■
infect these divine studies.
• Ut tinguli tic 111 tliigulii, anhiiii iIiicl', rUlwrart'n
icn grosi
iaed tfaa^
mtbcM^I
notio^^l
hrist oj^
* AMluua, H. 4S.
SIKJOHN CHEKE.
IL
What effect these directions of Clieke had in the col- sect.
lege, for the study of divinity, may appear from a passage ' . .
that happened there some time after he was gone, anno^'"'- '**"»
1548; adisputatiou was held in course. The thesiswaatde . ,. ' .
' _ "^ 'A dispaU-
Mhsa, ipsane Ccena Dominica fuerit, neate : i. e. concern- tion in St.
ing the Mass, whether it were the Lord's Supper or no.^^"'™j
It was managed very learnedly by Tho. Lever and Roger Mws-
Hutchinson, Some in the University took this private (Ub-
putation very ill. The matter was brought to that pass at
length, that Ascham undertook, by the encour;^meut of
many in that college, to dispute this question in the pub-
lic schools, and to bring it forth out of their private college
walls before the pubhc University ; and that for this end
and intent, to learn freely from learned men what could
be produced from the fountain of holy Scriptui-e to defend
the Mass ; whicli had not only taken up the chief place in
religion, and in the consciences of men, but had, by the
common practice and custom of Christiana, taken away all
the frnthfiil ministry of God's word and sacraments. And
for this purpose, the men of St. John's had conference
among themselves. They resolved that the canonical Scrip-
ture should be the authority that they would desire to
have the whole matter decided by. They also heaped to-
gether the old canons of the prknitive Church, the councdla
of Fathers, tlie decrees of Popes, the judgment of Doctors,
the rout of Questioniats, all later writers, both Gennans'
and Romanists. All these, as far as they could, they got
together, for the furnishing themselves the better to state
this question. But the matter got wind, and the noise of it,
though they went about it with all the quietness, went atbtixul
in the University ; insomuch as some took public notice of
it, and at last obtained so much of the Vice-Chanceliri', Dr.
Madew, that he, by his letters, stopped this diapBtation.
Nay, it fled as &ir as to Lambeth, where th«ji enstaes, with
loud outcries, made complaints to Archbi3ti0fi Cranmer
against them : and they called them rash and heady. But
though their disputtktiun was by this means hindered, yet
their studies proceeded still upon the same subject of the
12 THE LIFE OF
CHAT. Mass: and in short time they digested their ar^iments
_iiito a just book, which they intended to present to the
I s*"' Lord Protector, unless Cheke and Cecil {unto whom they
discovered all this) thought it more convenient to forbear so
to do. Thus inclined and affected stood this college to true
religion : a great cause whereof was Chefce's influence. In
short, while Cheke was a member of the college, he in-
fluenced much, not only in a diligent promoting learning
and religion, but in wisely pacifying and quieting domestic
commotidns. After he was gone, he was dearly missed in
both respects. Of this Ascham, remaining behind there,
, p. 77. takes notice, and complained once to him of the ill times
that followed his departure from them, for the went of b ii
counsels. ^^^
SECT. III. S
Made the King's Greek Professor. Reforms the prontat-
ciatirm of Greek,
at ALL this he was to the college ; but his light difTused
".' ^itself over all the University, to the benefit of it, as well as
for his own glory. He was of chief esteem for all human
learning, and was a great judge of it. Leiand, one of the
floridest scholars there, teaches as much, whilst he sub-
mits his epigrams to his censure, and bids his book strive
to make itself approved and acceptable to Cheke.
Si vis Thespiadnm choro probari,
Fac, ut consiiio, libelle, nostra,
Facii/tdo sCudeas ptacere Chbco.
For he was a great master of language, and a happy ii
tator of the great orator : and FiicunUus, i. e. Eloquent
was the epithet Leland thought proper for him. His pre-
sence and society inspired the University with a love of
learning; and the youth every where addicted themselves
to the reading and studying of the best authors for pure
Roman style, and Grecian eloquence ; such as Cicero and
Demosthenes ; laying aside their old barbarous writers aud
schoolmen, with their nice and unprofitable questiooB.
Tlie benefit whereof was, that as good Iciirniiig iucrcuM:d
tnve
1
lent^"
J
SIR JOHN CHEKE. 13
there, so also did true reUgion and the knowledge of the sect.
Gospel; Popery being sheltered with nothing ho much aa
barbarism and ignorance. And as it was thus with the*""- '**"•
University, while Cheke was there, so when he was
gone from it, learning and reli^on seemed with the ab-
sence of him to wither and languish. A thing which Cbelie
himself could not but take notice of with trQuble, in a let-
ter to a friend of his in the University, that the Cantabri- Aschami
gians Ta To^Xa utrTspj^eiv, t. e. were wanting in many things, lo^. u. ^a.
or went much backward. Such a want had the University
of the daily incitements and good example of .some such
an one as he.
But that that gave a great stroke to Cheke 's endeavours Mnde the
for the restoration of learning here, was that the Univer- Gweii'Lec-
sity chose him their Greek Lecturer; and this he per-tTer.
formed without any salary. But the King, about the year
1540, having founded a Greek lecture, with the salary of
40^ a year, for the encouraging that study, (not long after
he had made him his Scholar,} constituted him his first Greek
Professor, being now Master of Art, and about twenty-six
years of age. 'I'ogether with Cheke, were now constituted
other very learned Professors in the University, which
made it flourish. For as Cheke was Reader of the Greek
lecture, Wiggin read Divinity, Smith CivU Law, Wakefield
Hebrew, and Blith (who married Cheke's sister) Physic;
being all the King's Professors, with the salary of 40/. a
year: as Ascham acquiunted a friend of his, speaking ofEi.isi.Bran-
the flourishing state of the University at that time. And
that which was an addition to Cheke's honour, as well as
the repute he bad for his excellent skill in the Greek, we
have been told by one that hath given some short notes of Dr. Lnng-
hia life, that when this lecture, with the salary before „/ cheke' *
mentioned, was to be disposed of, Cheke was absent; andi^*'l" '"*
though there were three competitcrs earnestly making tbe True
their interest for it, yet Cheke's name obtained it from ^ubject,
F them. This place it seems he was so well pleased with,
Ejliat he held it long after he left the University, vh. until
Loctober 1551.
THE LIFE OF
CHAP. Hereby Cheke, together ^rith his learned coRtempOttryi
^" Smith, (who ever went along with hiui in promoting good
Ann. 1S4S, literature,) was highly instrumental in brining into more
R r^ til '^l"^^* *^^ study of Greek, in which language all leanung
pronuiicia- anciently was contauied ; and from Greece it flowed ints >
Greek. Italy, and other parts of the world. This language vna
little known or understood hitherto in tins realm. And if
any saw a piece of Greek, they used to say, Grcecum «rf ; i
nmi potest legi, i. e. " It is Greek, it caimot be read." And j
those few that did pretend to some insight into it, read
it after a strange corrupt manner, pronouncing the row-
els and diphthongs, and several of the consonants, very
much amiss : confounding the sound of the vowels and
diphthongs so, that there was little or no difference be-
tween them. As for example, ai was pronounced as t, »i
and ei as iwra ; ij, i, t;, were expressed in one and the same
sound ; that is, as iairtt. Also some of the consonants were
pronounced differently, according as they were placed in
the word ; that is to say, when r was placed after ft, it
was pronounced as our d. And when % was put after »,
then it was sounded as our h. The letter x was pro-
nounced as we do ch, )3 as we do the v consonant. But
since different letters must make different sounds, Cheke,
with his friend Smith, concluded these to be very felse
ways of reading Greek, and sounds uttcriy different from
what the anelent Greeks read and spake. But what the
true way was, that they both earnestly set themselves to
consider and find out; which at length they did, partly
by considering the power of the letters themselves, and
partly by consulting with Greek authors, Aristophanes
and others ; in some whereof they found footsteps to cU-
rect them how the ancient Greeks pronounced.
The ciun- These errors then Cheke in his lectures plainly disco-
'»*>'*;' vered, and at length exploded. An<l the more stutfious
fiiti.id.il bj and ingenuoua sort of scholars being convinced, most gladly
■ decrw. fo,3ooi( their old way of reading Greek, for this more
right and true, though new found out, shewn them by
their learned Header. But there was a party in the
SIR JOHN CHEKE. !5
Uiiiversity, who, disliking any thing that was new, and SECT.
dreading alterations, and blindly admitting every thing
that was old, would by no means allow of this pronuucia- '^''"' ■ ^*^'
tion, but opposed it with all their might, by disputing
jigainst it, and at last, by complaining to Gardiner, Bishop
of Winchester, the Chancellor of tJie University, against
Cheke and his adherents for this great misdemeanor. Who
being of the same mind with the complainants, and fear-
ing innovation more than was need, made a solemn de-
cree, dated the calends of June 1342, confirming the old
"corrupt sounding of (ireek, and enjoining the scholars to
«iake no variation, and that upon these pains, I'iz. If he
were a regent, to be expelled out of the senate; if he
stood for a degree, not to be admitted to it; if a scholar,
to lose his scholarship ; and the younger sort to be clias-
tised. And in short, the decree ran, " That none shoidd
■" philosophize at all in sounds, but all use the present.
" And that if any thing were to be corrected in them, let
** it all be left to authority "."
Littlersi pass hetivten Cheke and the ChanceVor of the
University aJiotei it.
. AND besides this, the Chancellor sent a Latin letter to ^"^l P
Cheke, the Greek Lecturer, to forbear any farther men- hiwts'
tjoning his new way of pronuncifition in his lectures : ^^^^'
however treating him like a man of learning, and arguing
urith him in an humane and scholar-like manner, Begiii-
iiing his letter in this obliging style : " Stephen Bishop
*' of Wlnton, Chancellor of the University of Cambridge,
>* to John Cheke wisheth health. That which the Chaii-
** celloF according to his right should do, namely, by his
" authority as a magistrate to abate and restrain unwary
" rashness, when it waxeth wanton in learning, I thought
** rather to be attempted by friendship. That I might ob-
V In loniB ommno ne pbliowipliBtar, Mil iililor piEcsentUnis. to Liis siquid
IG
CHAP. " tain that by fair means from a mild nature, and im-
_" proved by human studies, whicli power would exact of
Anna i6ie.<( the rude and barbarous. Therefore 1 purpose to deal
'• with you in this epistle, not as a Chancellor with a
" Bcliolar,but as a man somewliat versed in learning with a
" hard student ; and to talk at the least with a young man
" of very great liopes, if the heat of age do not add a hurt-
" ful and too daring excess j a thing which {I must tell
" you) many dislike in you. For your attempt, as I hear,
" not so much with the derision of all, as with their anger
" also, to bring in a new sound of letters, as well in the
" Greek as in the Latin, and to settle it among the youth.
« And you, wlio have by the King's munificence obtained
" the office of teaching a tongue, do destroy the use of it
" by a new sound," &c.
Chek* an- g^j. Cheke could not be persuaded to let go this enter-
ciiuicei- prise of restoring the tnie and graceful pronouncing the
lor', iftier. La^jn^ and espeoially the Greek ; which he had upon so
good and sure grounds undertaken. Vet thought fit to
give a very submissive answer in Latin to the Chancellor;
expressing much deference towards him, and yet freely
discoursing the matter with him, and shewing in much
exquisite learning upon what reasons and authorttlea he
went. And thus he began his address to him :
" How much pleasure, most worthy Prelate, I took in
" the first letter privately to me sent, wherein I saw my-
" self treated so friendly and obligingly," &c. But the con-
troversy afterwards grew more warm between the Chan-
cellor and Cheke ; who had seriously, and with an ingenu-
ous freedom, expostulated with him about the decree he
had made, whereby so commendable a reformation of a
considerable piece of learning was checked, to the grief
and discouragement of the best scholars. This bad effect
he plainly set forth to the Bishop ; and shewed how fully
he acquitted the place and office the King's Majesty had
set hini in, in making him his Greek Reader; and how
much the Bishop's late orders had obstructed his ]
jeaty's noble designs in this lecture : which ivas for |
1
SIR JOHN CHEKE. 17
ting scholars upon the study of that learned language^ and sect.
for the farther advancement of it. For, as he wrote to the '
foresaid reverend person, " Is this," said he, " to err from ^'*"*>^***'
^ my office, [as it seems the Bishop had laid to his charge,] Jiatrj^loa"
** and from the place wherein the King hath set me,, to"
^ teach what is most ancient, what is most profitc^le,
^ what most distinct? Which, since it was granted me
^ by the King, it afflicts me not a little, that it is by you
lessened and abridged. For had the University be-
stowed this lecture on me, I could not without great
" trouble of mind have been drawn away from it, while I
*^ profitably and honestly performed my duty therein.
** With what mind then must I bear it, when the King
^^ himself hath bestowed it on me? And by!reason of the
" rejection of that right pronunciation, neither have I the
" fruit of reading, nor they that come the desire of hear-
^' ing ; and almost all have cast off the study of the Greek
*^ tongue. For, when I entered upon this royal office of
*^ reading the Greek lecture, I found all my auditors well
" instructed in this way of pronouncing, and earnestly ap-*
" plied themselves to the study of the Greek ; and all (one
** or two only excepted) with all cheerfulness addicted to
" this way. Since therefore thife pironunciation hath been
*^ received now a good many years, and is widely scat-
f^ tered among men by a customary use of it, should I
^^ alone, for no cause, reject that hath been received by all
*^ upon very great cause ? Should I envy them so great a
** benefit, by removing it from them, or take it away by
*^ disparaging it ? Or rather, should not I pursue this
'^ most glorious institution of the King, by the fruitfiilest
" way of reading that I could."
Then he freely told the Bishop the success of his letter cheke
to the. University, "That since the order therein con-^^*^JJ*^*^
^^ tained, many had departed from his lecture; and they the lu ef-
^* that came, came with so sad and melancholic minds, as[^jj^^'^^^^
** one would think they were mourning for the death of a University.
" friend. For, as he went on, with reluctancy of the best
" learned, and in effect of the whole University, you have
18 THE LIFE OF
CHAP. " again shut them up in this corrupt confueion; whicka
" BO gross that we may almost feel it with our hand.
AiinoiS'ie.it Wherefore, if any thing hereafter happen otherwise than
" the King's Majesty expecteth, it is not to be ascribed to
" me, who have taken the best way, and followed the me-
" thod used among us ; but it will lay on them who move
" things well placed," &c. He subjoined, " Tndy, I fear,
" we must have no more declaiming in Greek, which we
" daily practised before, since that which was distinct and
" clear is taken away, and that which is confused and un-
" sound is only left. For that pronunciation, which our
" ears so liked and approved, is now gone into the utmost
" parts of the earth : nor, however profitable it be, how-
" ever true, however noble and magnificent, can longer
" tarry at Cambridge by reason of the punishments and
" mulcts threatened."
Thus did Cheke with an ingenuous boldness express his
mind, and argue \vith the Bishop about this matter:
wherein he shewed as weU his eloquence, as his con-
scientious care of -discharging the office committed to him
by the King, and hia zeal for the promoting of learning.
But whatever opposition of injunctions, decrees, and
penalties were made against it; yet, as it was said of
truth, it is great, and will prevail, so this true way of
speaking and reading Greek got the day in the University.
chrtf'swsyAnd those that were the greatest ornaments of learning
(rreik pre- then in Cambridge, Redman, Smith, Ponet, Pickering,
'*■''■ Ascham, Tong, Bill, and all others, who either read any
thing publicly in the schools, or privately in the collies,
gave themselves wholly to this correct way.
Seven irt- In fine, there passed seven learned epistles between the
tween G«r- Chancellor and our Greek Professor; wherein was com-
*"" ■'"' prised, I think, whatsoever could be said on this argument
pro or cou, containing considerable learning in them. The
originals whereof were left in the hands of Cielius Secun-
duB Curio, ii learned man of Basil, by Cheke himself, aa
he passed through that place in his journey into Italy, in
the beginning of Queen Marj-'s reign. Prom which ori-
SIR JOHN CHEKE. 19
*
^nds Caelius printed them anno 1555 : dedicating them SECT,
to the learned Sir Anthony Cook, Cheke's dear fiiend.
and fellow instinictor of good King Edward; giving him Anno i54«.
this reason for publishing them, that after he had di«
ligently perused them, he saw nothing in that kind ever
more perfectly written. And therefore judged so great a
good was by all means to be communicated to all that
were studious of good literature.
SECT. V.
WTiat and haw Cheke read.
BUT let us go and hear our Greek Lecturer read. In Cheke reads
his readings, among other authors he read Herodotus ; and ^"^ ° "'*
in that ancient historian particularly, the books entitled
Euterpe and Polyhymnia, where Cheke had occasion to ^
speak of some places in Italy and Greece, and to describe
them. Which he did with that life and advantage of ex-
pression, ^ that one of the most ingenious of his auditors
ever after had a most ardent inclination to travel, and see
those parts of the world : so that he confessed it could
not be quenched by any fears of labour or danger, which
commonly are the attendants of travel. It was Ascham,
whom we have had occasion several times to mention al-
ready. Who afterwards being Secretary to Sir Richard
Morisin, King Edward's Ambassador, and now in Ger-
many, had a fresh mind to pursue his long desire, of which
he remembers Cheke in a letter to him; adding, that
though for the bearing of travel, he had not a robust body,
yet that he could bear labour, and cold, and heat, and any
kind of food and drink, (the necessary qualification of a
hard student, and fit as well for a traveller,) wanting no-
thing but a purse ; praying him, his friend, to assist him
by his interest with the rich, to supply him with travelling
expenses; promising him, as some recompense, that he
would bring him home a fair account of the customs, man-
ners, and fashions of those places, whereof Cheke was
* Asch. Epist. iii. 16.
c2
20 THE LIFE OF
CHAP, ever held with an admiration. He signified what a good
' husband he would be ; and that a little would serve a lit-
Anno 1642. tie ordinary man as he was. No annual pension it was
that he desired, but only a little money for the present
expedition to set him out. That he had made noble
friends in England, and particularly his lady, the Lady
Elizabeth, who, he made no doubt, would upon the motion
contribute largely to his petition. And the Duchess <rf
Suffolk would be another, who had already promised him
largely and nobly : whose son, the Lord Charles, he had
instructed for some months in Greek : and her liberality
he had reserved for this time" and use. The Duke of Suf-
folk, the other son of the Duchess, favoured him also;
since by his means and teachings he wrote so fair a hand
as he did. From both the Marquisses also, viz. Dorset
and Northampton, he had also great expectation. But
the imparting of these his requests, he left to be managed
by his friend Cheke, who, as we heard before, had blown
up these desires in him; and in his ancient goodwill to
him he confided.
The benefit Thus did the lectures of Cheke inflame his auditors to
lectures, noblc dcsircs and virtuous enterprises; and tended not
/ barely to instruct them in the understanding of a lan-
^ guage, but to enlarge their faculties with good knowledge,
and to furnish their minds with principles of wisdom, by
his learned expositions and commentaries upon the au-
thors he read to them. In short, we must dismiss our
Greek Reader with the character Leland gave him:
ChcBcus Cecropii gloria prima gregis,
*^ Cheke the chief glory of th' Athenian tribe."
SECT. VL
Cheke University Orator,
Cheke Uni- CHEKE was an orator as well as a linguist ; and the
tor. University made him some time their Orator. And in that
office he adorned the Roman language, as well as in his
SIR JOHN CHEKE. 21
lectures he did the Grecian. Which place he held till he sect.
VI.
removed to Court; and then was succeeded by Mr. Ascham .
of the same college. Anno 1543.
It was about the year 1 543, that Cheke, being still at Publishes
Cambridge, gave the first specimen in print of his Greek lies of chry-
learning, as well as public testimony of his gratitude to «°*^°*-
the King. For having gotten an authentic Greek MS. of
two of St. Chrysostom's Homilies, he translated them into
elegant Latin, and printed them at London, with a dedi-
cation thereof to his sovereign prince and patron the
King. Wherein he took occasion to acknowledge and
extol the King's free and voluntary munificence towards
him, in making him first his Scholar, and then his Greek
Lecturer. Dating it from Cambridge, at Christmas 1543,
subscribing himself, Tu(B Majestatis ScholastictiSy et assi-
duns Precator; i. e. " Your Majesty's Scholar, and daily
'' Bedesman," as the phrase then was.
But Cheke was now to be transplanted into another
soil, and his learning and virtues were preparing greater
honours for him.
c3
22 THE LIFE OF
CHAP. n.
Frwa Cheke's coming to Courtj to his advancement to the
Provostship of King's College in Cambridge.
SECT. I.
Cheke removed to the Court. Instructs the Prince. The
loss of him at Cambridge, Canon of Christ's Church.
His usefulness.
Anno i544.Jj[lS first removc from the University was to the Court;
SJoXm- ^^ Henry VIII. calling him from thence July the 10th,
ter to Prince 1544, as judging him a fit person to be schoolmaster to his
Edward. ^^^^ ^^^ Prince Edward, in the room, as it seems, of Dr.
Richard Cox, now preferred in the Chiwch, who yet was
much about him, and his Almoner, as he was when he was
ICing. To him, joined with Sir Anthony Cook, a man of
exquisite learning and true virtue, were the tender years
of that royal youth committed, to instruct him in learning,
manners, and religion. Both which men, by their joint and
happy endeavours and counsels, framed a young King of
the greatest, nay, of divine hopes. There are yet remain-
ing some in print, and more in private libraries, written
with his own hand, (particularly in the library at St.
James's,) several of his pretty elegant Latin epistles to
.^^^the King, his father; to Queen Katharine Par, his mother-
^ '"^ \ in-law; to the Duke of Somerset, his uncle; to Cranmer
Archbishop of Canterbury, his godfather ; and to his two
sisters, when he w^s as yet very young, as likewise other
of his exercises ; which shew both his own forwardness in
his learning, and the diligence of his instructors. Nor did
he intermit his studies, when he came to wear a crown ;
but Cheke was always at his elbow, both in his closet and
in his chapel, and wherever else he went, to inform and
teach him. And that with so much sweetness and easi-
ness, that he took a pleasure and delight in his book ; and
SIR JOH^f CiiEKE. 23
observed his set hours constantly at his study. So that in SE
fine, one that knew Cheke and Cook well, writing to the
latter, had these words: "*That divine youth drew thatAmm
" instruction from you both, Qua neque Cyrus iiec Acliil-
" les, neque Alexander, neque iillus unquam Regum poii-
" Horemque sanctioremque accepit ; i. e. Than which
" never did Cyrus, nor Achilles, nor Alexander, nor any
" other Kings, receive more polite and holy. With which,
" could he have but grown up to man's estate, and arrived
" to the government of the kingdom, what kingdom in
" earth had been more happy ? What nation ever extant
" more blessed?"
But if we look back to the University, what a want
Cheke left there is not easily to be spoken; being a man
that seemed to surpass the rest not only hi learning, but
in the free communication of it, and that accompanied
with a marvellous affability and obligingness, and a most
holy and virtuous behaviour; whereby he became a pub-
lic pattern and example to the youth there. This loss of
Cheke may be better understood by a part of a letter, one
of his University friends wrote to him not long after he
was gone to Court, " My condition," said he, " is harder The v
" than the rest. They saw how you excelled in parts ^^:^
"and learning; I not only well knew this too, but was int. I
" throughly acquainted with your more interior oma- ""'
" ments, which dilftised themselves through all the parts
" of your life. Which when I then duly weighed, liow
" great they were in you, I do so much the more want
*' them now, and so much the less am able to hear the
*' trifles, the levities, and the ignorances of many of our
" men. But because this was owing either to your hap-
" piness, that you should especially be there, where your
" diligence might flow abroad most extensively into the
" commonwealth ; or to our unhappiness, that we should
" undergo the loss of your divine mouth, the loud trum-
" pet, as one may call it, of all good discipline, our trouble
" ought to he abated, lest if we appeai- over-much dia-
24 THE LIFE OP
CHAP. " quieted, we may seem either not to love the common-
^^' ^^ wealth enough, or our&elves too much. It was a very
Anno 1544." good thought of youT Plato, that some changes of com*
" monwealths are natural, that when there happens an
" alteration in the state of our afiEdrs, we should not be
** much moved. And although your body be snatched
" from us, yet your obliging behaviour, your wit, your
^^ study, your eloquence, and learning, is present in all our
^^ schools, and in each of our private thoughts." Arid an-
other of his learned acquaintance and coUe^ans, R(^^
Ascham, thus writes of the want of him in the University.
^*'«4f b? " ^® ^^ ^^ ^ remember the departing of that man from
** the University, (which thing I do not seldome,) so oft do
^* I wel perceive our most help and furtherance to learning
^^ to have gon away with him. For by the great commo-
^' dity that we took in hearing him read privatly in his
^^ chamber, al Homer, Sophocles, and Euripides, Herodo-
" tus, Thucydides, Xenophon, Isocrates, and Plato, we fed
^' the great discommodity in not bearing of him Aristotle
" and Demosthenes, which two authors, with al diligence
^^ last of al, he thought to have redd unto us. And when
^' I consider how many men he succoured with his help
" and his ayd, to abide here for learning ; and how al men
" were provoked and stirred up by his counsil and daily
** example, how they should come to learning, surely I
*^ perceive that sentence of Plato to be true, which saith,
" * That there is nothing better in any commonwealth,
" then that there should be always one or other excellent
^^ passing man; whose life and virtue should pluck forward
^^ the vrit, diligence, labour, and hope of al other ; that
" following his footsteps, they might come to the same
" end, wherunto labour, learning, and virtue, had conveyed
" him before.* '*
^^ The great hindrance of learning in lacking this man^
^^ greatly I should lament, if this discommodity of ovurs
'^ were not joined with the commodity and wealth of the
" whole realm, for which purpose our most noble King>
" fill of wisdom, called up this excellent man, fill of learn-
SIR JOHN CHEKE. 25
" ing, to teach noble Prince Edward : an office fill of hope, sect.
" contfort, and solace, to al true hearts of England. For. ^'
it
€i
ft
" whom al England daily doth pray that he, passing his A""® **^'
" tutor in learning and knowledg, following his father in
•^ wisdom and felicity, according to that example which is
set afore his eyes, may so set out and maintain Gods
word, to the abolishment of al Papistry, the confusion
of al heresy, that therby he, feared of his enemies, loved
of al his subjects, may bring to his own glory, immortal
*^ fame and memory 3 to this realm, wealth, honour, and
'' felicity; to true and unfaigned religion, perpetual peace,
*' concord, and unity."
King Henry, having lately new founded the college of Made Ca^
St. Frideswide in Oxford, (founded first by Cardinal Wol- HenV» "^
sey,) granted Cheke one of the Canonries of that church «»^i«»*»^'
soon after he became tutor to the Prince, as some r4eward
and token of his favour towards him. Which was about
the year 1544, when, according to the registers of that
University, he was incorporated into Oxford, and studied
there some time. But the rents of the Canons decaying,
the King, anno 1545, added special pensions to some of
them ; as to Peter Vannes, the learned Italian, and some-
time Ambassador for the King into Italy ; Richard Croke,
S. Th. P. employed also abroad by the King; and oxxt
Cheke. Which said pensions were 26/. 13^. 4d. to each.
By this preferment we may conclude him to be now in
holy Orders. ^
Cheke, as he had now great opportunities by the place cheke't de*
wherein he was put, so he had as great designs of niddng"J[\^^5'
himself usefiil to the public. For he set before himself, »»«fi»i-
how that he was now to instruct a Prince, that was one
day to take on him the government of a mighty kingdom.
And therefore he suited his readings and discourses with
the Prince thereunto ; that he might go out of his hands
an excellent monarch, and become a true father of his
country. But besides this, considering how his office re-
quired him to be i^ways about the Prince's person, where-
26 THE LIFE OF
CHAP, by he should have the opportunity of having his ear fire-
^* quently, he resolved to improve it not so much to his
Anno 1545. private benefit, as to the benefit of the public, of the Uni-
versity, and of the deserving men there ; to get them re-
moved, and placed about the nation in Church and State;
that by their influences, truth and virtue might every where
be promoted. Thus he spent his time and cares at Court;
and ever was a fast friend, and gave his helping hand .to
learning and religion: which appeared more manifestly
afterwards, when his royal scholar, by the death of his
most noble father, was advanced to the crown,
SECT. n.
His offices to his friends.
His letter NOR did this learned man in the midst of the spleiH
toDr.Butts,dors'of a Court neglect his private studies, nor his offices
being sick. ^ his friends. Dr. WiUiam Butts, M. D. (and a Knight
according to his monumental inscription,) domestic Physi-
cian to King Henry, had taken notice of Cheke firom his
youth, and been always a favourer of his hopeful parts,
performing the part of a father to him, and Cheke styled
himself his son. By this physician's interest he seems to
have been first made known to the King, and to have re-
ceived from him those marks of royal favour bestowed
upon him, while he lived in the University; and after-
wards by him preferred to the Court. For Butts was a
friend to good religion and learning. While Cheke was at
Hertford, (where the Prince's Court was mostly kept, in
the latter times of his &ther,) this gentleman, in the year
1 545, was seized with an afflicting dangerous fit of sick-
ness; which gave a concern to his grateful friend; who
composed a pious consolatory epistle to him, suitable to
his condition : which being so expressive of his gratitude
to the doctor, and withal of piety, and a sense of God, and
of his dispensations, I cannot but here transcribe it, as
from whence some character may be taken of the writer.
SIR JOHN CHEKE. 27
The original by time is somewhat defaced in some places, SECT.'
which 1 have been fain to supply by some words, which are ^^'
put in Roman. Anno 1545.
Johannes Checus, D, Guilielmo ButtSy M, D.
Non dubito quin hanc perturbationem valetudinis tuce, cheke to
Vir omatissimey imitatione Christi cequissimo animo feras.^^' ®"*^*
Nam quijide intelUgunt ilium omnia admimstrare, its wi-?:^®'"'
hit potest malum videriy quod ab illo proficiscitur. JEt qui
Deum sapientissimum ac optimum judicanty sciunt co«-
silio cuncta ab illo gubemari, et bonis ab illo ad salutem
mitti. Et quanquam cegritudines aut alii cruciatus pios
vexent, non ita autem iis casu aliquo objiciuntuvy sed divi-
nitus mittuntur hominibus a Patre eorum cselesti. Nam
prudentissm^ Propheta disit^ non est malum in civitate,
et ego non feci. Et alio loco scribitur, Dominum marti/i'
care et vivijicarej deducere ad inferos et reducere. Ut ne-
gari non potest, Deum hiis cerumnis ac vitce miseriis, ad
gloriam suam, uti, et pro voluntaie sua hominibus has
quasi medicinas ad salutem et conservationeni hominum
adhibere. Cum enim judicamur a Domino, ca^stigamur,
ne cum- mundo condemnemur. Quod si hcec, morborum,
cerumnarum, variaque crucis genera depellunt supplicia
cetema, viam ad salutem muniunt, condemnationem tol^
lunt, exercitia pietatis excitant, etjide Domini nostri Jesu
Christi nituntur, et totos se illius misericordice tradiderunt
afflicti, hilari ac lubentissimo animo sustinenda nobis ac
perferenda sunt. Neque tam reputanda qu(B noster sensus
feraty quam IcBtandum, cum causam cur a Deo missa sint
perpendamus. Certus, inquit Paulus, sermo est, siquidem
compatimur, et conregnabimus. Relinqueiidus ergo hie
dolaris sensus, vel abjiciendus potius a pio viro, quia mini--
mus dolor maximam habet adfunctam glories a^ gaudii re-
munerationem. Sed tu ista omnia per te melius ac pla-
nius intelligis, qui fide Jesu Christi per gratiam Dei inni-
teris, qui mortem Christi, remissionem peccatorum, et re-
conciliationem tuam esse putas, qui omnium redemptorem
Christum, qui fidelium prsecipue credis; adeo ut cum
:^ THE LIFE OF
>v\-^ ^:H(#MM D tt fy mo ingenue clames, Deus mens, et Dominus
iM^^rtk Quare te in hoc trisH {Bgritudmey qttam iu, ut
S^v*; ^'^ii^^^.j^fMfrm irttnquillissimo ac serenissimo animo fers^ non deti-
llM^bo langior. Hoc unum a Deo patre Domini nostri Jem
Vkristi €tssidue precor, ut quern ego in loco patris in terris
Mkni, sanum atque incolumem aliqtmndo ab hoc cegritu-
dine propter gloriam nomims sui liberet. Atque utmam
certe, quemadmodum pnesenSy tecum animo ac voluntate
sum, sic liceret mihi carpore tecum, adesse, quo mi/dy perd-
pere solatium conspectus tui, sed aliter turn voluntate tua
turn negotiis meis impedito,fas essety si non morbmn taum
tollere ad te veniendo, saltern dolorem meum minuere,
quern ex invita absentia mea capio. Dominus Jesus, ctffus
est omnis potestas, pro beneplacito suo uxorem, liberos,
familiamque tuam conservet, ac ah hac (egritudine eruat.
HarfordiiB xiii. Octohris.
Tuus animo JiliuSy
Ornatissimo viro D. Guliel- JOANNES CHECUS.
ifno ButtSy Regio Medico,
ac Patrono suo singulari*
To this tenor in English.
" Sir,
" I doubt not but in imitation of Christ you bear with a
** most equal mind this loss of your health. For to them,
** who by faith understand that he disposeth all things,
** nothing can seem evil which proceeds from him. And
** they who think God to be very wise and good, know
** that he governs all by counsel, and that he sends all
** things to good men for their salvation. And howsoever
** sicknesses, or other afflictions, do disturb those that arc
" godly, they are not so thrust upon them by some chance,
** but sent to them from above by their heavenly Father.
** For the Prophet spake very wisely, [or rather God by
" the Prophet,] There is no evil in the dty, and I have
** not done it. And in another place it is written, that the
** Lord killeth and restoreth to Iffe, that lie bringeth down
** to the grave, and bringeth back again. So that it can-
SIR JOHN CHEKE. . 29
" not be denied, that God maketh use of these, troubles sect.
^* and miseries of life to his glory, and according to his ^'
^^ pleasure prescribes men these medicines, as one may Anno 1545.
^' call them, for their health and preservation. For when
*^ we are judged of the Lord, we are chastised, that we
" may not be condemned with the world. But if these
*^ divers sorts of diseases, troubles, and crosses, drive
'^ away eternal punishments, make a way to salvation,
" free from condemnation, stir up the exercises of piety,
^^ and if the afflicted depend upon the faith of our Lord
*^ Jesus Christ, and have submitted themselves wholly to
^^ his mercy, we should with a cheerful and most willing
^^ mind sufifer and undergo them. For we are not so much
^^ to regard what things we feel by our senses, as to re-
^^ joice when we well weigh the cause why they are sent
** by God. It is a faithful sayings saith Paul, if we stiffer
^' with himy we shall reign with him, A godly man there-
" fore should lay aside, or rather cast off this apprehension
*^ of pain. Because a very little share of grief hath a very
" great recompense of glory and joy annexed to it.
" But you. Sir, of yourself understand better and more
" plainly all these things, who rest firmly on the faith of
** Jesus Christ by the grace of God ; who reckon the
'^ death of Christy the remission of sins, and reconciliation
^^ to be yours ; who believe Christ to be the Redeemer of
^' all men, but to be the Redeemer especially of those that
^* believe ; so that you may freely cry out with Thomas
^* Didymus, Mt/ God, and my Lord. Wherefore I will not
** detain you longer in this doleful sickness, which you, I
" hope, bear with a very calm and composed spirit. This
'^ one thing I daily beg of God the Father of our Lord
'^ Jesus Christ, that him whom I had here on earth in the
^* stead of a father, he would restore to health, and for
** the glory of his name at length deliver from this sick-
^* ness. And I wish surely, that as I am present with you
^^ in mind and will, so I might be in body; whereby I
^* might partake of the comfort of seeing you, being other-
*^ wise hindered as well by your will, as mine own busi-
so THE LIFE OF
CHAP. " ness, if not to take away your disease by coming to you,
^^' ^^ at least to lessen my sorrow which I have from my
Anno 1545." forced absence. The Lord Jesus, who hath all power,
" according to his good pleasure, preserve your wife, chil-
^^ dren, and family, and restore you from this sickness.
" At Hartford the xiii of Octob.
" Your Son in heart,
" JOHN CHEKE."
This pious letter was the more seasonable, since this
gentleman must now have been very ill, this disease
proving mortal, and within little .less than a month after
ending his life ; as appears by his monument in Fulham
church, against the wall in the chancel, which I will here
set down, and the rather, he having been Cheke's chief pa-
tron and dear friend, and that the memory of so worthy
a man might be preserved :
CheWa^^A' jSpitaphium D. Guil. Buttii Eg. Aurati, et Medici Regis
and epitaph. HenHci VIII. qui obiit anno Dom. 1545 ^ 17 Novetnbr.
Quid medicina vcdety quid honosy quid gratia regumj
Quid popularis amoVy mors ubi sceva venit?
Sola valet pietas, quce structa est auspice Christo,
Sola in morte valet; ccetera cunctafiuunt.
Ergo mihi in vita fuerit quando omnia Christus,
Mors mihi nunc lucrum, vitaque Christus erit.
And what if I should think that this was the issue of
Cheke's own pious fancy, as his last respects to this
man, for which he had so high and deserved a veneration ?
This epitaph, when time had almost defaced, after four-
score years and upwards, Leonard Buttis, of Norfolk, Esq.
{viz. in the year 1627,) renewed.
SECT. III.
His private studies.
NOW also some of the spare hours Cheke could re-
SIR JOHN CHEKE. 31
4
deem to himself, he employed in reading of Chrysostom in sect, y
Greek. With whom he was so conversant, that one of
his friends, speaking to him of that author, called him, Anno 1547.
Tuus Chrysostomus, i. e. your own Chrysostom. And^^g^^^
to make his studies useful to others as well as to himself, atom's ora-
he translated the six orations of that eloquent and pious ^ming
Father, De Fato, that is. Of Providence, out of Greek Fate.
into Latin, and published them about the year 1547, (as he
had translated some before,) where Cheke lively expressed
his own style, language, and affection. Insomuch that his
contemporary at the University, and his good friend told
him in a letter, ^^ ^That his book conveyed with it an ear-
^^ nest desire to enjoy his voice, his conversation, his wit :
^^ all which that writing as a certsdn picture of his mind
" did admirably represent. So that the voice in this dis-
*^ putation seemed not to be so much Chrysostom's, as
** Cheke's own. So plentiful was this whole volume of
^' most noble sentences concerning God, so handsome the
^^ placing them, words so well suited to the matter, such
*' elegant translations, so familiar and delightful narra-
^^ tions, so great a contexture of arguments, such agree-
^} ment of the whole oration with the cause. Which were
*^ all properly Cheke's own virtues, partly natural, and
^ partly obtained by study and knowledge." And as Had-
don had a poetical vein, so on a sudden in some heat of
fancy, when he had read this translation of Cheke's, he
wrote this tetrastich upon it :
IHviis Joannes Chrysostomus aurea Grcecay
Fundere guod possety nomen suscepit ab auro.
Noster Joannes sit nomine Checus eodem,
Aurea qui Grams verbis dat verba JLatina.
And besides the royal youth, Cheke seems to have the Takes care
care of his sister, the Lady Elizabeth's studies, at least g^j^^^^J
studies.
^ Maximum iste liber mihi desiderium attulit tuae vocis, tuae consuetudinis,
tui ingenii, quae sane omnia hoc scriptum tanquam effigies quaedam animi tui,
repraesentavit, &c. G. Haddonus Joan. Checo.
32
THE LIFE OF
sometiunes. When the Prince was once at his honour of
_Ampthil in Bedfordshire, (as at other times, for changing
'■of air, he was at Hartford, and at Hatfield,) his said sister
was with him. And she was then under Cheke'a instruc-
tion, as may be gathered from a copy of versea made by
Leland to that lady, to this import ; that once going to
Ampthil to see Prince Edward, and Clieke, his tutor;
Cheke brought him also to the Lady Elizabeth, to have a
sight of her, when Cheke also prays her to salate that
learned man, and speak to him in Latin, which she di4>
Which honour done him, Leland expresses in these v«
Tempore quo ChcEcus, musnnim citra, politns
Me commeitdavit, voce favente, lihi.
XJtque salutares me tunc sermone Latino,
Egit, ut kinc s<:irem, qitantus m ore lepos, I
SECT. IV.
1
Cheke's interest tinder King Edward. AppKed io.
Marries.
"[' WHEN Cheke's royal cliarge and care came to reign,
■r King our learned man began to move in an ampler sphere : pre-
'"*' ferments and favours began to be accumulated upon him
by his lt)ving and grateful scholar, now his Sovereign;
and applications begau to be made to him by men of de-
sert. And he ever readily used his interest with his Prince,
(to whom he was very dear,) to promote and fnrthex all
worthy and commendable both men and enterprises. And
the University of Cambridge, knowing what a careful
friend he M-aa already, and would be to it on any occasion
they might have of application to the Court, now near the
beginning of King Edward's reign, addressed a letter to
him of high respect, full of his deserved praises, and ex-
pressive of the assurance they had in his assistance at all
times : which, because it will serve to give a light to our
history, and shew in part our learned man, I cannot a
SIR JOHN CHEKE.
S3
setting it down in the English for the benefit of the sect.
reader, though written originally in elegant Latin ; which '^'
cannot be reached in a translation. Anno i647-
Ex universo illo numero, ^c. " Of all that number ofThe Uoi.
« very eminent men, most eminent Cheke, that ever went m"gni^ia-
" forth from this University into the commonwealth, you"'')'.'***"
" alone are the man, whom she, above all others, loved be-ter Asch.
" ing present, and being absent admired: which you also '"''""■^*'
" in recompense had adorned more than all the rest, when
*' you were present, and now being absent afford your help
" unto. For being present, yon delivered such rules of
" learning for all instruction, and propounded siich ex-
" amples of ingenuity to all imitation, as when every one
" followed for their greatest benefit, none perfectly and
" completely attained. There is none indeed among us
" all, either so ignorant as knows not, or so envious as to
" deny it, that these most fortunate fountains of our stu-
" dies, which many with great industry, pains, and hope,
" have drunk at, have 6own from your wit, tuition, ex-
" ample, and counsel. And the perpetual presentation of
" your memory, is consecrated to those monuments of
" your humanity, parts, and learning. But being gone,
" you have heaped upon us greater assistance, and surer
•* defence, than either the rest of our friends could ever
•' think, or we ourselves expect. For whilst a King, in-
* Htructed by your precepts, becomes such a patron of
" learning by your counsel, we are not ignorant what the
" rest either will, or at least ought to contribute to our
" University. We have drawn this our hope, and this dis-
" cipltne out of your Plato, to Dionysius, a very bad king;
•" yet we have had experience lately of the fruit and use of
•* it, by your aid in our beat Prince Edward. Therefore,
" since so many mutual offices, so many pious closenessea
*' and ties are between you and the University, that in
" fetching back the remembrance of it from your very
•* cradle, to the honour in which you now are, there is no
** bertefit of nature, or fruit of industry, or praise of wit, or
defence of fortune, or ornament of honour to be found in
I
THE LIFE OF
CHAP. " you, whereunto our University either hath not contri-
" buted for your uae, er whereof it hath not partaken to
Auno 1547. « her glorj" : we do not doubt, but the University may
" liope and receive from you thia fruit of the omanienls
" she hath conferred on you ; tliat whatever interest and
" power your honourable place and station may hereafter
" put into your hands, you will employ it all in preserving
" the dignity of the University. We do not commend any
" one, but all our causes to you, wherein we hope you will
'* take such pains, as cither you ought to bestow upon \ia,
" or we to expect iTom you."
Marries. In this year I place Mr. Cheke's marriage, being con-
firmed by a passage in Ms eldest son's letter to Cecil, tliat
he was nine years old when his father died, which was In
the year 155?. She whom he chose for hia consort wa«
Mary, a young gentlewoman, daughter and heiress of Ri-
Mra. chard Hill, by Elizabeth, daughter of Ilsley, Esq.
jiij' ' This Hill hved, as it seems, in the Vintrj', London, and
was a wine merchant, and died young; yet not before he
had ten or eleven children by his \vife. He had also a
place of credit at Court, being master or sergeant of the
wine ceUar to King Henry VIll. as appears by his monu-
mental inscription in tlie church of St. iVlichael, Queen-
htUie, London, where he was buried : which was to this
w«v. Mod. tenor : Richardo Hil,l potentiss. Regis Henrici Octavi
^' ' cel/ee vinaricE prefecto, Elizabetha cottfux mecstissima,
/acta Jam undecimorum Uherorum mater, marito ojitimo,
immatura tandem mor-te suhlalo, [quod solum potuil) po-
steritati covimeitdaturum cupiens hoc monumentum, po-
suit. Obiil, an. Dom. 1539, die mensis Maii 12.
As for this young lady, (daughter to this good widow
Mrs. Hill,) we shall meet with a passage concerning her
hereafter.
SECT. V.
His jtrefemmits and bcne^ls ohtairied fr
Edward.
THE first benefit I find bestowed on Cheke by
SIR JOHN CHEKE.
35
Kiiig, was an hundred mark rent for twenty-one years, by sect.
a patent dated at Westminster, Aug, 26, an. 'J. Edward ^'
VI. which, it seems, was the way of gratifying the King'sAnoo is4a.
instructors. So I find John Belmair, who was his master ^^^''K
for the French language, had, in the year 1550, a lease chek« one
granted for twenty-one years, (that is, of the same space ^"^'J^r^gj,,
of time that Cheke's grant was,) of the parsonage of Mine- ly.
head and Cotcomb, with the appurtenances in the county
of Somerset, and divers other lands, but with a certain
yearly payment out of it. But this grant to Mr. Cheke
was followed soon after with others.
George Day, a learned man. Bishop of Chichester, was Mada Pro-
Provost of King's college in Cambridge; which provost- ^I'lg",,
ship he had held itt commendam from King Henry VIll.
to this time: but was deprived of his bishopric in the
year 1548, for his disobedience to the King's proceedings,
in refusing to take down the Popish altars in his diocese.
It was also thought convenient to displace him from his
provostship. Then all the talk was, that Cheke should be
made Provost of King's. And in St. John's college there
was great and glad expectation and desire that it might
be so. For thus I find * one of the chief of that house ex-
pressed his mind in this matter to the Lord Protector's
Master of Requests ; " 'i It is the common wish among us
*' here at Cambridge, that at length, yea, very shortly, we
" may see John Cheke Provost of King's cbllege. That
** Bishop \i, e. the Bishop of Chichester, the present Pro-
*' vost] does not promote studies; I wish he hindered them
** not. And this 1 do not speak for any one's favour, but
" for the benefit of the whole University. There are many
*' things that make us of this judgment, and many more
" your own prudence sees. Thus we friends talk among
" ourselves, perhaps not so very wisely, yet warily, and at
*' least very affectionately. Think, Sir, as you please of
•' this afiair, yet further it as much aa you can." Nor was
King-i
THE LIFE OP
CHAP, it long after that this preferment, according to these hi«
' friend's good wlahesj fell upon him. For the King, bis
,nn. isflB, loving scholar, in that year granted him a mandamug, di-
't the rected to the college, {upon Day's resignation,) to elect him
their Provost. A place which suited best with his stu-
dious mind, that ever laboured for retirement, and affected
couteniplatioii. It is true, the statutes of that college were
against him. And therefore the mandavttts ran to dis-
pense with three qnalifications required in a Provost of thU
college, vix. to be a Doctor, a Priest, and of the foundation.
Which they would scarcely have complied with, {as they
have since refused such dispensations, being against their
statutes,) had it not happened at that time, when the Uni-
versity wanted some notable reformers, and in respect of
the extraordinary person recommended to them, so emi-
nent for his virtue and his learning, and with some re-
gard also to his greatness at Court. So at length he was
chosen by the Vice-Provost and Fellows ; who wrote let*
ters both to the King and him. This place he held about
five years, till the beginning of Queen Mary, when being
found tardy ^, he was glad for his safety to resign, though
the instrument ran ex mero motu, according to the com-
mon fonn.
The King expressed also his gratitude to him, by be-
stowing considerable lands and lordships upon him ; name-
ly, out of such as fell to the Crown by the dissolution of
religious houses, colleges, and chantries. For in the third
year of his reign Cheke obtained of him, (as it is e^c pressed
in the patent,) propter itidttstriam in imtitttmda adole-
scentia Domini Regis; i, e. "for his industry in in-
" structiiig the King's youth," the house and site of the
late priory of Spalding in the county of Lincoln, the manor
of Hunden in the same county, and divers other lands and
tenements in the counties of Lincoln and SufEblk, to tlie
value of 116/. 1 \d, q. and no rent reserved. And the yCKT
before he obtained another estate of the King; wherein
he and Walter Moyle were joint purchasers; and 00
Th. King
SIR JOHN CHEKE. 37
question a good pennyworth. The 8um to be paid was SECT.
958/. 3s. 5d. ob. a sign that Cheke had by this time got ^'
money in his purse. It was the college of St. John Baptist Add. i548,
de Stoke juxta Clare in Suffolk ; and likewise, all the mes- *****
suages, tenements, cottages, cellars, solars, chambers, sta-
bles, &c. with the appurtenances belonging to the college
of Corpus Christi, in the parish of St. Laurence Poultney,
London, lately dissolved 5 together with divers other lands
and tenements in the counties of Suffolk, Devon, Kent,
and in- London. The Head of the foresaid college, who
was styled the Dean of it, was Dr. Matthew Parker, after- p^'^^J ^"^
wards Archbishop of Canterbury. He indeed by founding stoke.
a free school in it for education of children, and by good
statutes making it an useful foundation, deserved still to
have enjoyed it. But by the act of Parliament in the first
of the King, it fell under the same fate with the rest of
the colleges superstitiously founded. So when Parker
could not obtain the continuance of it, (which he endea-
voured,) he gave Cheke (to whom it was granted) such
friendly counsel and advice concerning the state of it, and
for the better improvement of it, that he professed his
great obligations to him in a letter, promising to take care
that he should be the first to whom a pension should be
appointed, as soon as the commission came out for stating
the pensions; and so rewarded, that, as he trusted, no
pensioner better : writing thus to him ;
" Mr. Doctor,
** After most hearty commendation, I am as diligent in Cheke to
^* your behalf as I would be in my own ; and labour as mssjd.c?*
** sore, that you may think yourself to have found some c.c.
^^ kind of friendship at my hand, as indeed I think I have
^^ received at yours. When the commission is once come
^^ out, you and yours shall be the first to whom pensions
*' shall be appointed : and for your part, I trust so or-
^' dered, that no pensionary better. The time is not now
*' long, within this sevennight or more, it is thought you
^^ shall be despatched ; wherefore you need not much now
J>3
38 THE LIFE OF
CHAP, ^to accnmber yourself with any unqidetnefn or dday;
"• '' ' ' ' '' ' ^1 be despatdied the best
Add. ]548,a ^jj^ soonest. Fare you welL
ct seq. "^
^th of Jtme^ from, " Your assured,
Westminster. •^ JOHN CHEKE."
He jMomised Dr. Parker also to take his opportunity
with tlie King effectuaUy to recommend him fcnr some
preferment, when it should faQ. But Parker remaining
two years after in statu quo prius, upon another occasion
of writing to him to Cambridge, Cheke voluntarily. took
notice, that he had not yet done for him as he would ; yet
Cbeitt*! assuring him, ^that he did not forget his friendship
lof *MSS " shewed him aforetime, and was sorry no occasion
C.C.C.C. ^ served him to shew his good will. But bid him assure
^' himself, that as it lay long, and took deep root in him,
*^ so should the time come, he trusted, wherein he should
^ understand the fruit thereof, the better to endure, and
^ surelier to take place. Which might as well shortly be,
^ as be deferred. But good occasion, he said, was alL"
So that we may hence conclude Cheke had a great hand
in the places and dignities that afterwards were obtained
by the said Dr. Parker.
SIR JOHN CHEKE. 31>
CHAP. m.
From Cheke^s retirement to Cambridge^ to his receiving
the honour of knighthood.
SECT. I.
Croes to Cambridge. Visits the University by commission
from the King, Besides there. Writes a book against
the rebels.
In May this year 1549, 1 find Cheke gotten to the be- Anno 1549.
loved place of his nativity and education ; and, as it seems, 9^®^® ^'
settling himself in his provostship lately granted him. Cambridge.
Whither it appears he was now gladly withdrawn from the
Court, and all its gay but ticklish splendours, and the
frowns as well as the flatteries of it : the former whereof
he had lately experienced. Here he is now busy, in order
to his residence, fitting up his chamber and study; and
sends to his friend Peter Osbom, at London, to convey
down to him thirty yards of painted buckram, to lay be-
tween his books and the boards in his study, which he
had trimmed up ; a ream of paper, a perfume pan, and
some other furniture. And to shew that he was now under
some cloud at Court, and how glad of this his present re-
cess he was, these words fell from him in a letter to his
above mentioned friend ; ** That he now felt the calm of
" quietness, having been tossed afore with storms, and
^^ having felt ambition's bitter gall, poisoned with hope of
" hap. That he could therefore be merry on the bank-
^ side, without endangering himself on the sea. Your
" sights** added he, ** is full of gay things abroad, which I
^^ desire not, as things su£Biciently known and valued. Oh!
^ what pleasure is it to lack pleasures, and how honour-
** able to flee firom honour's throes!" Our philosopher
esteemed this the truest pleasure and the best honour, and
much beyond that of a Court. And there being a visita-
d4
40
THE LIFE OF
. tion of the University instituted by the King this eummer,
_ Cheke, being now at Cambridge, liad the honour to be no-
's- minated for a Commissioner; joined with Goodrick and
1^' Ridley, Bishops of Ely and Rochester; Sir William Paget,
f- Comptroller of the Houeehold; Sir Thomas Smith, Secre-
tary of State; Dr. May, Dean of St. Paul's; and Dr. Wen-
dy, the King's Physician ; all fonnerly choice learned men
of the said University. The disputations that were now per-
formed before the Visitors, the correction of superstitious
practices, the furtherance of the King's good proceedings,
the reforming of the old statutes of houses, managed und
provided for by Cheke and his Fellows' care,'! leave to other
historians to relate. ^^
SECT. II. ^M
Cheke'a Book, viz. The true Stihject to the Rebel.
THIS visitation being ovsr, Cheke, who I conclude was
still in Cambridge, employed his thoughts {and that per-
haps by order from above) in composing an expostulation
with the rebels ; who this summer brake out, partly for
enclosures, and partly for religion, into an open and formi-
dable insm-rection, in most counties in England, and espe-
cially in Devon in the west, and Norfolk in the north".
It was framed by way of a plain and earnest address
from himself to thent : and being finished, was commit-
' ted to the press to be dispersed, as well among them, as
elsewhere in the realm. The book was entitled, TAe
Hurl of Sedition: how grievous it is to a Comtnon-
wealth. The running title, T/ie true Subject to the Rebet,
And as there were two sorts of these mutineers, who pre-
tended two virtuous causes for their complaints, so Cheke
suited his discourse to each. Those in the west made their
disturbances for the restoring the old Popish religion.
Those ui Norfolk and Suffolk would have amendment in
the commonwealth ; that the gentlemen should not be put
into places of honour and trust, and the poor t
SIR JOHN CHEKE. 41
partake of none of these benefits and advancements; but sect.
that all ranks of people should be brought to an equal _1_
level. Anno 1549.
The former of these thus did our learned man in his Argue* with
said book accost: ** Ye rise for religion: what religion JJ^-^jq*^?"^
*^ taught' you that ? If ye were offered persecution for reli-
'* gion, ye ought to flee ; tfo Christ teacheth you, and yet
*' you intend to fight. If ye would stand in the truth, ye
*^ ought to suffer like martyrs ; and ye would slay like ty-
** rants. Thus for religion ye keep no religion ; and nei-
'^ ther will follow the counsel of Christ, nor the constancy
'* of martyrs. Why rise ye for religion ? Have ye any thing
" contrary to God's book? yea, have ye not all things
" agreeable to God's word ? But the new [religion] is dif-
** ferent from the old, and therefore ye will have the old.
** If ye measure the old by truth, ye have the oldest. If ye
" measure the old by fancy, then it is hard, because men's
" fancies change to give that is old. Ye will have the old
'^ style. Will ye have any older than that as Christ left, and
^^ his Apostles taught, and the first Church did use ? Ye will
have that the Canons do establish. Why, that is a great
deal younger than that ye have of later time, and new-
^ lier invented; yet that is it that ye desire. And do you
** prefer the Bishops of Rome afore Christ ? men's inven-
^* tions afore God's law ? the newer sort of worship before
*^ the older ? Ye seek no religion ; ye be deceived ; ye
seek traditions. They that teach you, blind you ; that
so instruct you, deceive you. If ye seek what the old
Doctors say, yet look what Christ the oldest of all saith :
*^ for he saith, Before Abraham was madej I am. If ye
*^ seek the truest way, he is the very truth : if ye seek the
'^ readiest way, he is the very way : if ye seek everlasting
** life, he is the very life. - What religion would ye have
*^ other now than his religion ? You would have the Bibles
*^ in again. It is no marvel, your blind guides would lead
^ you blind still. But why should ye not like that
^ [religion] which God's word establisheth, the primitive
m
42 THE LIFE OF
CHAT. ^* Church hath authorized, the greatest learned men of this
^^^* ** reahn have drawn, the whole consent of the ParUament
Anno 1549. *^ hath confirmed, the King's Majesty hath set forth? Is it
** not truly set out ? Can ye devise any truer than Christ's
** Apostles used ? Ye think it is not learnedly done. Dare
** ye, commons, take upon you more learning than the
** chosen Bishops and Clerks of this realm have ?
" Learn, learn to know this one point of religion, that God
^^ will be worshipped as he hath prescribed, and not as we
*^ have devised 5 and that his will is wholly in his Scrip-
^^ tures, which be full of God's spirit, and profitable to
*^ teach the truth," &c.
And about As for the Other malecontents, the other rabble of Nor-
monweaith. folk rebels, thus he proceeded to argue with them : *' Ye
" pretend a commonwealth. How amend ye it by killing
^^ of gentlemen, by spoiling of gentlemen, by imprisoning
•Ket, their « of gentlemen? A marvellous tanned* commonwealth.
wa? atan- " Why should ye thus hate them for their riches or for
ner. (( their rule ? Rule they never took so much in hand as
** ye do now. They nfever resisted the King, never witb-
^' stood his Council ; be faithful at this day, when ye be
^^ faithless, not only to the King, whose subjects ye be, but
'^ also to your Lords, whose tenants ye be. In this your
^' true duty, in some of homage, in most of fealty, in all of
'^ alle^ance ; to leave your duties, go back from your pro-
'^ mises, &I1 from your faith ; and, contrary to law and
^^ truth, to make unlawful assemblies, ungodly compa-
'^ nies, wicked and detestable camps ; to disobey yoar
■ ^' betters, and to obey your tanners ; to change your
^* obedience from a. King to a Ket, to submit yourselves
^ to tndtors, and to break your faith to your true
" King and Lords ? ^If riches offend you^ because
^ ye would have the like, then think that to be no com-
^^ monwealth, but envy to the commonwealth. Envy it is
^^ to appair another man's estate, without the amendment
^^ of your own ; and to have no gentlemen, because ye be
^^ none yourselves, is to bring down an estate, and to mend
SIR JOHN CHEKE. 43
" none. Would ye have all alike rich? that is the over- sect.
II
" throw of labour^ and utter decay of work in this realm. '
" For who will labour more, if, when he hath gotten more, Anno i64».
*^ the idle shall by lust, without right, take what him list
" from him, under pretence of equality with him? This is
*^ the bringing in of idleness, which destroyeth the com-
^ monwealth, and not the amendment of labour, which
^^ maintaineth the commonwealth. If there should be such
^^ equality, then ye take all hope away from yours, to come
** to any better estate than you now leave them. And as
^^ many mean men's children come honestly up, and are
^^ great succour to all their stock, so should none be here-
^^ after holpen by you. But because you seek equality,
^' whereby all cannot be rich, ye would that belike, where-
** by every man should be poor : and think beside, that
^' riches and inheritance be God's providence, and given
** to whom of his wisdom he thinketh good," &c. After
this manner did he excellently and popularly reason in
thift book, for the reducing these men to more sobriety.
This book was reprinted anno 1576, as a seasonable
discourse upon apprehension of tumults,* by malecontents
at home, or renegadoes abroad. Holinshed also thought *
fit to add it in his Chronicle there, where he speaks of this
rebellion ; as it was his practice to insert divers tracts and
discourses in suitable places of his history. And since that.
Dr. Gerard Langbain, of Oxford, about the year 1641, pub-
lished the book once again, intending it for the use and
consideration of the rebels against King Chades the First,
in the time of the civil wars.
We are told also, that about these times Cheke penned, On« oPOk
and perhaps published, several other learned and tisefalS^tr
tracts, bojbh for Church and State. And whereas, in thethe ccdesU
month of October, thirty-two Commissionenr (consisting \y
of an equal number of Bishops, Divines, Civilians, and
common lawyers) were appointed for the examining the
old ecclesiastical law books, and drawiqg thence a body of
good and wholesome laws for tiie government of the
Church, and decision of other civil matters, Cheke was
44
THK tlFt^t^
CHAP. Darned one of the eight Divines selected for this great
work : Taylor, Dean of Lincohi; Dr. Cox, the King's
Aono 1649' Ahnoner, and one of hia teachers; Dr. Matthew Par-
ker, Master of Bene't college, Cambridge ; Latimer,
(afterward a martyr;) Sir Anthony Cook, another of the
King's instructors ; Peter MartjT, the King's public Pro-
fessor at Oxford; and Joannes a Lasco, a nobleman of
Poland, and Superintendent of the German congregation
y in London; bfting the other seven. With such learned
]/ company was Cheke thought fit to be associated. And
again, three years after, upon a new Commission for the
same purpose, he was again nominated one to whom the
Commission was directed, with the rest above named.
SECT. m.
Returns to the Court, His troubles there. His wife offeadt
the Duchess.
Chfkest CHEKC'S stay was not long at Cambridge, his roy»I
master no doubt wanting him to assist him in his studies,
and to be about hia person, whom he so much affected.
For I find him at We&tminster this winter, viz. anno 1549.
And this is the first time I meet with any passage about
Hii wifu. his wife, who seemed to be a dependent on the family of
Anne, Duchess of Somerset, and now with child. This
first occasion I find mention made of her by Cheke, her
husband, was an unhappy one, she having given some of-
The Dii- fence unwarily to the Duchess; or the Duchess, a verj" im-
mrmt of- perious woman, having taken b<ome offence against her for
fended wiih gome words spoken, or some matters concealed of, I know
not what. This female fraction employed Cheke to o
a reconciliation for hia wife, and to qualify the lofty [
Chike'i irt-eas's mind towards her. Therefore he takes his pen',
b(hiUf. ' ' *f'- '^*''*' '" '"*' Ouc&ai of Somrrnl, JimuBr. IS49, «/»■
Ihr DucAcM ImH latm agaiiul AU wi/c anii Unurl/.
1^ JO, '>'*"' Gr»rt> iiDfrular f«vuiir lu«»rdi me hnth alwiijrt liwn ona of mj.d
rumforta in mj dillgFal ttrxirt of the Kinf^ Mijotjr, orliicb wu (he 4^
tu nir, twnniM it wu vtl Islien ; ■nil altbo in tbii dcHrt of uUmi
SIR JOHN CHEKE. 45
with words of the lowliest submission makes his applica- sect.
III.
tion to her; not in the least excusing his wife's fault, but ,
only using arguments proper to move and mollify the^^^**^^^^*
Duchess's great spirit, after this manner : *^ That he could
^^ not choose but make half a suit for half himself, that is,
" for his wife, in regard of her misbehaviour towards her,
*^ Grace : for which, whosoever was sorry, he was most
^* sorry. And yet not ready to excuse that which was
ble, and mishap of mine own, I know not precisely of your Graces favour-
able goodness toward me, yet I judge that your good Graces mind towards
me, undeserved to be gotten, and undeserved to be lost again,. is sich [such],
that I pass the quieter through the whole course of my danger, and feel the
less storm of causeless hap, because I do mich [much] stay myself in your
Graces wisdome of taking things truly, and in your goodness of helping the
honest favourably.
Wherefore, presuming to give your Grace thanks for myself, because I trust
well, and most humbly requiring your Grace of continuance of your favour^
worthily, as I trust, to be bestowed on me, I cannot chuse but make half a
suite for half myself, being dissevered as yet from the other half of myself,
in my wifes misbehaviour towards your Grace. Whosoever is sorry for it, I
am most sorry ; not ready to excuse that which is faulty, but desiring of par<
don where forgiveness is plentiful; and knowing that forgiveness of faults
past is amendment of time to come ; and no vice in a mean woman to be so
great, but the vertue of nobility is as large to mercy. My most humble request
therefore is, that your Graces gentleness overcome my wifes faults ; to favour
of clemency, where justice would have straitness ; to be more noble in i^ertue
than others be in offence ; that, wheras fault is greatest, your grace may most
appear. In other matters I have charged her to be plain ; and I trust her
honest nature will content your Grace. Wherin if she be faulty (for I must
needs naturally pitty her) justly, I cannot speak for her ; and yet, as I trust
she wil shew herself true and plain, so I would fain speak, if I thought there
were need, and put your Grace in mind that you of wisdome consider, that in
youth there may be pardon, where experience lacketh ; and sich [such] we
pitty, as wisdome cannot be looked for of ; and toward women with child, fa-
vour for the innocents sake.
But what mean I to enter into sich matters, as your Grace knoweth best ;
and tel your Grace, that of yourself you consider. Onely I beseech your Grace,
and that most humbly, to extend your gracious favour so far above the required
desert toward my wife and me both, as my good mind toward your Grace,
which is equal with your greatest clients, is above mine habilitee, which is un-
derneath the common state of wel minded. God send your Grace most plen-
teous estate, and long quietness to his mighty will. From Westminster, the
XXVII. of January, 1549. 2 Edv.
Tour Grace's most bounden Orator,
JOAN. CHEKE.
46 THE LIFE OF
CHAP. ^ faulty, but desiring pardon where for^veness was plen-
^"* " tiful, and knowing that forgiTeness of feuHa past, was
Anno i549>< amendment for time to come. That no vice in a mean
^ woman was so great, but the virtue of nobility was as
<^ large to mercy. That his humble suit was, that her
^^ Grace's gentleness might overcome his wife's feulte;
^^ and to be more noble in virtue than others were in of-
*^ fence; and that where fault was greatest, there her
** grace might most appear. That of her wisdom she would
" consider, that in youth there may be pardon where ex-
" perience lacked ; and towards such women pity, of whom
^^ wisdom cannot be looked for, and toward women with
" child, favour for the innocent's sake." Thus was he fain
to strain his rhetoric, to pacify the wrath of this lofty lady
toward Mrs. Cheke. And because she was to come under
examination, he told the Duchess, ^^ he had charged her to
^^ be plain. And so he trusted her honest nature wodd
^* content her Grace."
Cheke himself was scarce yet got out of his own trou-
bles, occasioned, as it seems, by the troubles that latdy
befel the Pcotector, the Duke of Somerset, Cheke seeming
first to be charged as one of the number of those that had
suggested ill counsels to the said Duke, and after of some
In Cheke's falgeness to him. But the Duchess herself saw his imio-
troubles,
tbcDachesscency, and stood his Mend, and that behind his bad[.
" "^'^ * Which favour, therefore, he thought fit to make an ac-
knowledgment of by his pen ; « Professing stiU to depend
^^ upon her protection and patronage, and protesting that
^^ he passed the quieter through the whole course of his
^ danger, by means of her favourable goodness and good
'^ mind towards him; and felt the less storms of canselgsii
^ hap, since he so much stayed himself in her Grace's
^ wisdom of taking things truly, and in her goodness of
^ helping the honest favourably. And that, in a word, it
^* was her Grace's singular favour towards him, that had
** always been one of his chief comforts in his diligent
" service of the King's Majesty : which was the easier to
" him, because it was well taken."
SIR JOHN CHEKE. 47
SECT. IV.
Preferred at Courts and does good offices for men of reli--
gion and learning.
WHEN Cheke had undergone, and well got over this Anno 1 550.
shock at Court, he stood the firmer afterwards, and re-
mained fast in his royal master's favour, and his interest
and authority daily increased : so that he became the great Becomes
patron of religious and learned men, both English and^f^ig^n^"
foreigners, and, together with Cecil and Gates, their chief and religion
advocate with the King. So well did Ridley, Bishop of gp. m. sta.
London, know this, that he called him 07ie of Christ's spe-
cial advocates^ and one of his principal proctors. AndAscham
Ascham, joining Cecil and Cook with him, as the great ^^^'^J^i^
triumvirate at Court for favouring all geod causes thatn^iss.
respected either religion or learning, bespake him once in
these words: "If you, with Cecil and Cook, [the other
" instructor of the King,] defend, tis you have opportunity,
*^ the causes of virtue and learning, ye shall answer the
^^ opinion that all have of you."
And his great parts and abilities were now so well Made chief
known, and his wisdom so tried, that by this time {viz. of °he Pi^
1550, the fourth of the King) he was made one of the chief Chamber,
gentlemen of the Privy Chamber, a high place in those
times, and was preferred also, as it seems, to a participa-
tion of the public cares, and involved in the matters of
State. Certainly very great and weighty business lay upon
him: for Ascham, in one of his letters to him, excused ill. 9.
himself for the letter he wrote, not expecting long answers
again, because he saw he was detained vrith weightier
matters. And the King's Ambassador in Germany wrote
weekly to him privately, as well as to the Privy Council, ,
concerning the public affairs abroad. The foresaid Ascham,
that elegant sdiolar, was Secretary to this Ambassador,
concerning whom I shall here take occasion to set down a
fewthmgs.
THE LIFE OF
I
ino 1550. prQcuj-gs Ascbam to go Secretary to an Embassy t<f
Emperor.
AN embasg)^ being to be despatched to the Emperor,
Charles the Vth, the charge of it was committed to Sir
Richard Morison, a learned Knight, and abrave gentleman ;
and Ascham, by the means and recommendation of Cheke,
was appointed Secretary of the said embassy : two veiy
fit persons to be companions, and well sorted for their
tempers, learning, and judgment. This favour obtained
by Cheke, Agcham gratefully remembered, and profeBsed
that he made it a spur to him, not to be wanting in any
respect to the Ambassador with whom he went, lest his
neglect might reflect any blame upon his friend that pre-
ferred him ; for he bore, he said, that sentence of Cicero
in his mind, graviorem esse spotmvitem aliens honeslatit
guam alieni <eris ; i. e. that it is a greater matter to pass
one's word for another's good behaviour, than for his debt.
III. a. The day before the Ambassador went away, Ascham re-
paired nnto Cheke's chamber in London, (in White Friajs,
I suppose, for there his house was,) being retired thithtr
hE'a ml- for his health's sake. Here coming to take his leave,
n going Cheke, like a Christian philosopher, held a large conference
I Gir- ^th }jjm^ both concerning true religion, and the rigkt
method of instituting studies. Which subjects were N
wisely and gravely handled, that the discourse made saA
a mighty impression upon Ascham, that, as he sent biiD
word in one of his letters, he should never forget it. It
was no doubt intended by our learned man to fortify As-
cham, now going abroad, and to confirm him in the good
principles he had imbibed and entertained at Cambridge;
and that in his travels he might be secured from gathering
any infection by the various conversation he must neces-
sarily meet with ; and so be in danger, without some fore-
arming, of forsaking religion, or that course of solid learn-
ing that he made so good progress in.
SIR JOHN CHEKE. 49
Of this communicJitioii, the next diiy after, 173. Sept. 21, sect,
Ascham gave his fellow collegian and friend, Edward Ra-
ven, an account from Gravesend ; which was to this pur- A""" isso.
port, that from noon to nine at night, they two passed the commtmi.
time in various philo^ophica] discourses. Tliey handled t«ven
many things relating to religion, to the Court, to the com- ^j^hsin"
manwealth, and to the University : and particularly that Aacii. Epist.
Cheke hugely approved of the state of St. John's college, ni. a.
and the discipline and course of learning there used,
Ascham, out of his love to the learned men there, and his
desire of their promotion, took this occasion to speak much
of the Pilkingtona, the Leavers, Wylsons, Elands, and
other good and deserving scholars of that college, and
particularly his friend Raven, (to whom he now wrote,)
whose sweetness of manners, wit, prudence, diligence, and
judgment, he commended and recommended to Cheke;
and chiefly a troublesome business of Ms, wherein he
might need the assistance of the Court : wliich the other
readily promised that he would get despatched,
Cheke 'a great mind towards the advancement of learn- rn'eui-
ing and religion contained not itself within the limits of him of the
these nations united under the English government; butj'*'*."'
the good-will he bare thereto made him heartily desirous and religion
of the propagation of these excellent things abroad in* "" '
the world. And some tidings of the present posture of
them, in the parts beyond seas, catne to him now in the
month of November, from the pen of his hefore-men- Asch. Ep.
tioned learned friend, who was (with the Ambassador) by'''
this time got as far as Ausburg. He shewed him first, in
general, how he had visited monasteries, churches, libra-
ries ; seen ancient both books and coins, a number whereof,
both very old and very fine, he promised him at his return :
also, how he had taken notice of the customs of cities,
^eir situation and discipline ; diligently viewed their build-
ings, walls, strength, ports, and all opportunities of land and
water round about : and that he had made memoranda of
bU these things : whereof Cheke was to be partaker when
Ascham csme home. He proceeded to particulars: he
THE LIFE OF
CHAP, spake first of Lower Germany, which he called the lou^eit
_ indeed, and the deepest, as, he said, was easily perceivable,
.0 1560. g[|(j tijat in all respectB ; (except only in the mighty con-
;r If ' course of merchants ;) for into it flowed a sink of Roman
erGer- dfcgs and filth, and now seemed there to stagnate. This
was the ill character lie gave of that country, which after-
wards, by the vindication of its liberty from oppression
and superstition, is become in these our days one of the
richest and most considerable places in Europe, At Ant-
werp he saw'a commentary upon Plato's Timfeus, but of
some Latin writer. At Louvain, in the college, he heard,
for the space of an hour, Theodorus Candiua, a man of
fame, read upon Sophocles's Tyninnus : where, by the
way, he acquainted Cheke, that in liis reading he read and
pronounced according to the late way discovered by him,
wlien he read the Greek lecture at Cambridge. " But,"
said he, " if that reader were compared \vith Car, [who
" was the present reader of Greek there,] Louvain with
" Cambridge, both the former would fall much short of
" both the latter," That at Colen, Justus Velsius, once
of Argentine, now an Herodian, [i. e. I suppose a comi^ier
with the mteritn,] read in Greek Aristotle's Ethics ; wboa
indeed he [Ascham] did approve, though he did not ad-
mire. That the same day he heard Alexander Blaiicart, i
Cannelite, reading upon the Acts of the Apostles. ThU
man he described to be a notable Papist ; that he turned
the ninth epistle of the first book of Cyprian for oblatdons
in favour of the dead ; and that he was esteemed to be
leameder, and worse [r. e. in respect of his rigour agidnat
Luthcranism] tlian ]idvardu8 BilUcus, who there publicly
professed to read on Genesis. That for the fame that this
Billicus carried, he repaired to his monastery, and there
he saw the man ; and having a mind to enter into <
course with him, he signified to bun, that he was toUlM
had certain books of St. Bernard, as yet never prii
Tliia he aaid, that he might pravoke the man to a
course, and bo make some trial of his parts aixl aliilitieh
But being full of bui^itiese, as his servant told Awchniu, be
prin^H
SIR JOHN CHEKE. 51
was not then at leisure: so as being cast off to another secjt.
time, he caat off thafr proud Papist. He proceeded in his ^'
relation; that he had looked over many libraries in those Anno isso.
parts, but saw not one eminent book. That at Spire,
the report was, there was an excellent library, well fur-
niehed with ancient Latlo, Greek, and Hebrew books : but
the library-keeper being absent, he saw not the books,
which otherwise he had taken a view of. That at Gaves-
burgh, a town nine German miles distant from Ausburg,
many Jews dwelt ; where he was, and saw many Hebrew
books well written; but they woidd not sell hiuxsotuuch
as one, though he offered them money. He also-iHw an-
cient coins there ; and bought two, a Nero and an Au-
gustus. Also they shewed him an old Hebrew piece of
money, of gold, with very handsome Hebrew letters;
whicii he had bought, had not the price been too unrea-
sonable. That the city Ausburg, where he now was, had
a very copious library, furnished with very many ancient
Greek and Hebrew books. They that had the care of it
bad laid aside threescore of their best books, lest the Em-
jperor (now at Ausburg) or the Imperialists should take
them away, [either perliaps for their choiceness and excel-
lency, or containing some things contrary to the Imperial
or Popish interest.] There was a whole Chryaostom in
Greek, together with other very valuable books : and
"though he had not yet seen them, he waa promised that
he should.
, This for the state of learning. Ne.xt he acquainted Cheke
in what condition relif^on was in those parts. Tliat it flou-
rished at Ausburg, thougli the Emperor himself were at
that time in person there : " Just, methinks," said he, " as
*' your pronunciation of Greek flourished at Cambridge,
" even under the contrary commands and injunction of
f* Winchester. At this success of religion, we all," added
iie, " do rejoice, and I congratulate the same ; but fear, lest
." Caesar, while present he shews himself, with fraud, easy
#* ui the cause of religion, when he is absent, more easily,
*' without being suspected, break all their political power ;
THE LIFE OF
CHAP. " and that, by the ruin of their policy, religion also should
_" be ruined mth it." That the citieffof Hamburg, Breme,
Anno 15S0. and Magdeburg defended religion with their minds, their
pens, and tbeir swords. That he saw the Magdeburg
Confeseion. That the argument of the book was this. Si
superior magistratus vim e^ercet in subditos cotitra jtu
aut naturale aut divinuTn, licet turn inferiori magistratui
resistere ; i. e. " That if the superior uiagiBtrate exercisetli
" force upon hia subjects contrary to the law, either natural
" or divinC) in that case it is lawful for the inferior niagistraU
*' to resist." That for the city of Magdeburg, and their
spirit, he could not but praise both, but this thesis he like<i
not ; for that hence might great commotions and disturb-
ances easily arise. This book, very scarce to be got, he sent
to Cheke for a present ; and would, as he wrote to him, hav«
sent him many other tracts concerning the interim and the
adiapkryrists, but that Gipkin (who was a Dutch book-
seller in London) had taken care of procuring them for
bim. That the city of Wittenburg with Melancthon, and
Leipsic with Camerarius, the chief Doctors in those ci-
ties, were blamed by many good men, that they admittfd
the interimintical and adiap/iaricfil doctrine. That Jtu^
chim Camerarius, in an oration delivered at Leipsic the
last year, had distdrbed the minds of a great many at that
time in matters of religion. Finally, that as soon as aaj
thing of certainty, either relating to religion or the dvfl
state, came to his hand, be would write all at large; but
that now, upon their first commg, he had not much, nor of
much consequence, to impart.
c:iieiie put In this correspondence Ascham descended from public
j|Jj"'^"to more private matters. He took occasion now to »-
nionhtnn member Cheke of that admirable discourse that he enter-
'"' tained him with at their parting at London, and bow
much he spake concerning Demosthenes, declaring how it
rejoiced him to perceive that noble Greek orator waa w
familiar with him, who was also the great subject of Ab-
cham's delight and study. And here he took occarions
(knowing the excellent Latin style of Cheke) to put him
SIR JOHN CHEKE.
upon translating the oration of Demosthenes, and of his sect,
antagonist iEschines, into Ivatin: which would he take
ia hand, he should, he SMd, undertake a thing most proper A^noi^ao.
and agreeable to his place, his study, his wit, his judg-
ment, and hia ability : and that thereby he would hold
. forth a great light to the commendable imitation of De-
mosthenes and Tully, the princes of the Greek and Latin
■peech. He now also propounded to him to disperse and
eommunieate hia pronunciation of Greek abroad in theAndupoD
world, that other nations might be acquainted with it : h^ [iranun-
adding, that if he would but send him the copy, he would""'"" "^
soon offer it to the view of mankind; and that he doubted langu age.
not but to obtain the assistance of Johannes Sturmius (the
most learned Professor of Strasburgh) to give some illus-
trations to it. Pity it was, that this suggestion prevailed
Dot with Cheke to set forth his learned exercitations upon
the Greek tongue, and the correct way of sounding it,
having this convenience of printing the book well, in some
printing-house abroad, and whilst Ascham, or some of his
friends, might have had the supervising of it; whether it
were our learned man's modesty, or his other cares and
business hindered. Yet tlie siuu of his thoughts upon this
subject came to light soon after his death, in his exquisite
|i X<atin letters to Bishop Gardiner, printed at Basil, as we
bave told already. And as to the other motion made by
Aacham, of translating something of that prince of Greek
motors, that he did, either upon this advice or before. And
beside these, many other of that orator's works, as his
Philippics and Olynthiace, he translated, and left behind
him, (though I fear now utterly perished,) as we shall be
told hereafter, when we come to mention his writings.
SECT. VI.
Cheke translates the Communion Book. His friendship
with Martyr and Bucer. Halh a son.
BUT now to look at home. It was not far from this
lime that the Archbishop of Canterbury thought it necea-
e3
Book put
into Utin
b; Chcke.
THE LIFE OF
sary tliat the first Coinmuuioii Book should be carefully re-
vised and corrected ; and that in this work foreign DiriiKs
of the greatest learning in divinity, and best acqututded
with the ancient ecclesiastical writers, should be consaltedi
There were many in England at that time, the chirf
whereof were Bucer and Peter MartvT : both whoEW jw^
ments the said Archbishop required, and willed them towt
down their censures in writing for his use. In this matter
our Cheke was concerned: he translated into Latin the
substance of the said Communion Book for P. Martyr,
(not understanding English,) now being at Lambeth with
the Archbishop : and from this translation Martyr made
his censures by way of annotation, And, moreover, Cheke
had conference with that learned man concerning the
amendments to be made, and concerning a meeting of the
Kisliops that were to consult and deliberate about it ; many
of which secretly bcajing a good-will to Popery, Mdrtyr
tonfeased his fears to Cheke, that the reformation of the
book would stick with them. But Cheke hinted to him,
" ''that if the Bishops would not alter what was fit to be
" altered, the King would do it by himself, and when the
" Parliament met, he woidd interpose his own authority."
Cheke was a fast friend and patron to these outlandish
learned Confessors. And as we have seen something be-
tween Peter Martyr and him this year 1550, so in the
same year there was a kind correspondence between liim
and Bucer. Upon his first coming to Cambridge to be tlic
King's Professor there^ he had been dangerously sick : and
as the fear of losing so useful a man in that public station
caused no small trouble to Cheke, and such friends of the
Reformation as he, so his recovery gave tbem no small
content. And Cheke, by way of congratulation and coun-
sel, wrote thus from the Court at Greenwich to tiim in
May : Audio te firmiorem, ^c. i. e. " 1 hear you are
■it. tSittrr, ii( qux oiUUnda tint,
•d PullauEntum nnliun (tirril, i
/. Fmkn'i Ltll. C. f. f. <
[llcnlur, Ilri per u-ipun
•inr iniij«lil!i nullion
pl r. AKh. p. 43S.
SIR JOHN CHEKE. 55
" grown stronger, and that all your weakness and sickness /SECT.
'* which had afflicted you is gone : for which I do ear- • *
5^ nestly, as I ought, give thanks to God, the Father of all Anna j650.
'* comfort, who hath delivered you from so great a disease,
" and strengthened you to take in hand and undergo such
" an office in the Church. But pray take heed you be not
^^ too earnest in your beginning, and undertake more than
" the measure of your health will bear. We must so labour,
" as to think, not how soon, but how long we shall be able
*^ to perform our work. You know how far that of St. Paul
" reaches. Use a little wine; and how it may diffuse itself
" to all the actions of life. I do that to you which I could
^^ never induce myself to do to any else \ that is, to advise
" that you be more remiss and moderate in this your al-
^^ most intolerable labour of mind : for the greatness of it
" stretched beyond one's strength distresses the body, and
^^ disables it to take care for meaner things." This was the
advice of a true friend.
Bucer had solicited Cheke in behalf of his friend and coun- Bacer soii-
tryman Sleidan the historian, who had a yearly honorary f*^ sigi^^^*^
pension assigned him by King Edward the Vlth, for his
excellent learning and abilities. This pension, behind and
unpaid, (for money was not very plentiful with this King,)
it was Bucer's request to Cheke to use his interest for it,
signifying what address had been made to the Archbishop
of Canterbury in this behalf. To this Cheke's answer wae,
" That the Archbishop was of a benevolent disposition,
^^ but a slow patron of causes ; and that in this business
^^ there was need of a Privy Counsellor, and likewise of a
^^ greatness of spirit, that might be fit to undertake causes
^^ with moderation and judgment ; adding^ that if the
^^ opportunity once slipped away, it would be more easily
'^ sought than found. That, for his part, he did not cease
^^ to put the Archbishop ih mind, and that he would stiU
^^ do further what he could." Asch. Ep.
In the same year, the xii. of the calends of Novembet, P* ^^^'
there passed another letter from Bucer to Cheke, styling che ke bu
him therein his inost honoured patrmi.: herewith, sending ^*^**^ ^®
^ , ° Regno.
E 4
THE LIFE OF
him up his famous book that he wrote for the use of the
_Kmg in reforming religion, De Regno Christi coniti-
"tuendo; signifying that he had shewn it to none but P.
Martyr, who was, as he said, of the same opinion with
him. He added, tliat this book should be read by none
but such who should read it for their own and the Church's
profit. And he desired him to recommend this his labour
and pains to the King.
This year Cheke was about coming to Cambridge, as
we find him afterwards to do, in a considerable capacity.
*■ But when some doubted of his coming, Bucer entreats him
to come, because his presence would be so very necessary
for that School; he meant that University. He lastly
prayed the Lord to keep him, his most honoured
and his son, who might now be about two years old.
SECT. VU.
Cheke reads j4nstoile's Ethics in Greek to the K
Instntcis him for gov-
1
CHEKE still plied his duty close with the King, iu fol-
lowing him in his studies. A Cambridge friend of his (who
' was wise and learned, and well understood the education
of noble youth) took occasion now to tell Cheke his judg-
ment concerning the instruction of his royal charge, whoj
being now about thirteen years of age, and endued with
an understanding beyond his years, should be let into the
reading of such books as might be proper to shew him his
duty as a Prince. And a book of that nature having been
composed by Xenophon the Grecian, for the institution of
Cyrus, he thought the King might be a double gainer in
reading of it, both by forwarding him in Greek, and also
by the imble and. wise instructions proper for a Prince's
behaviour. But though Cheke approved well of this coun-
sel, yet he thought fit first to "enter him into Aristotle's
Ethics in Greek: that so Ids royal mind might first be
well principled in moral virtues ; and when he tmda
well these precepts, and hod imbibed the knowledge «
euiulenli|^
J
SIR JOHN CHEKE.
the parts of virtue and vice, he would be the better enabled SECT,
to look into and judge of the manners and actions of men ; _
and thence might more properly be led into history, and A"'">i55'
be able to pass a judgment upon the matters he should
read there. Cheke had read over TuUy'a philosophy to
him already; and, by his piuns, Latin and Greek were •♦«i'
become easy to him, both to write and speak elegantly
the former, and to translate into the latter.
Let ua add here some few things more relating to instmcu
Cheke's care in the education of his Prince. Among other j,'^p'" '!*'
things that he instructed him in, one was about matters interest oi
of the kingdom. He shewed him the general history of jj,^'"^"
£ngland, the state and interest, the laws and customs of
it, and such bkc : and this he taught him before he was
King. Where Cheke shewed himself bo well skilled in the
mysteries of this State, that it is said that King Henry
observing it, had an eye upon him for Secretary.
And that all King Edward's transactions, and the emer- Directs hi
gencies of his kingdom, whether public or private, might j^r!^'' "
be the better remembered by him, (whereby his experience
might be the greater,) Cheke directed him to keep a diary
of all occurrences of weight ; and to write down briefly,
under each day of every month, debates in Council, des-
patch of Ambassadors, honours conferred, and other re-
marks, as he thought good : and this, we may conclude,
produced that escellent Journal of this King preserved in
the Cotton library, and printed thence by Bishop Burnet.
And, to set forth the benefit of keeping of such a day's
book, Cheke is said to use this aphorism, " That a dark
" and imperfect reflection upon aiFairs floating in the me-
*' moryjWas like words dispersed and insignificant; where-
" as a view of them in a book, waa like the same words
•• digested and disposed in good order, and so made signi- ■ ^i
** ficant." , ,7*1
58 THE LIFE OF
CHAP.
"*• SECT. vni.
Anno 1550.
Concerned about the death of Bucer, the King^s Professor
at Cambridge.
Cheke is THOUGH Chcke was gone from the University, yet he
l^w^ ** ^^^^ ^ great share in the affairs there. The latter end of
death. the year 1550, .Martin Bucer, whom the King had sent
thither to read divinity, died ; which did very much affect
him, considering the great loss the University sustained
in being deprived of such a man, whose readings had been
so beneficial to the students there, for the enlightening
them about the truth of religion, and freeing their minds
from the corrupt notions that had hitherto so infected the
study of theology ; and, as Cheke himself wrote to Peter
Martyr upon this occasion, that the Cantabrigians had
been in this respect happier than others, that God had
sent so great a man to them, and that Christ's discipline
took such deep root by him. Bucer's death was bitter to
Cheke upon this public account ; and not therefore only,
but because of that deamess and friendship that was be-
tween them. Which Nicolas Car (one of Cheke's Unirer-
sity friends) well knowing, cpuld not but by a letter relate
to him the sad news of his death. And that for this rea-
CarriEpist. son, 'Q£«t^ euim illo charior tibif guem is dilexit fe ma-
BucT ^ ^ ^^' ^- ®- " P^r ^^^ was dearer to you than he ?
" whom did he love more than you ? for whom did he per-
" form more offices of respect and love ? and whom did
^ you embrace as you did him ? So that he, methinks,'wa8
^^ happy, who had a value for such a man as you ; and. you
^^ most happy in holding so strait a conjunction with so
^ holy and learned a man as he."
Writes to And knowing how heavily the other pious and his fel-
newsof Bu-'^w foreigner, and Professor at Oxford, Peter Martyr, must
cert death, nccds take his death, Cheke thought good, in a consolatory
letter, to acquaint him with it; beginning, Ita natura
ferty Sfc, And to give you a taste of his pious spirit, I
shall translate some passages of his said letter : " He
SIR JOHN CHEKE. 59
" thought," he sMd, " that such a man aa he [Peter Mar^ SEOT.*
*^ tyr] was, would bear moderately and Ghristiantf the
^^ death of that grave and religious man ; and that his na--^*""* **^'
" ture would not shew itself so repugnant to the will of
" God, as to suffer any too vehement disturbance to enter
^^ into his mind in such a common and natural accident, to
" which all were subject. You know," said he, " whose
^^ he was when he lived ; who dwelt in him ; how he was
" not his own, nor at his own command, who had devoted
" himself wholly to the service of Him by whom he was re-
" deemed. And sinqe God gave him not to us, but lent him
^^ for some time, shall we bear it the more bitterly that God
'^ hath called for him, and not rather give him thanks that
'^ he hath so long left him with us ? That his years and
" age was such, that though he were worthy of longer life,
" yet nature could not extend it further. And when he
'^ had led a most constant life, and with the same con-
'^ stancy finished it, with how much joy ought his Mends
^^ and acquaintance to be affected, that he was thus taken
^' away by God, that malice might not pervert his mind;
^^ and that by the constancy of his death he might com-
" plete and crown the innocency of his life. And who is
^^ there that can doubt of the Divine power, wisdom, and
" goodness ? Nor ought we to contend with him, but to
*^ submit ourselves to his greatness and power : that we
^^ take with a thankful mind whatsoever is offered to us
<^ from so great an Author, lest we be found stubborn in
'^ crying out against his doings, or weak in not bearing
^^ what he lays on us, or ingrateful in taking amiss what
" he sends. But it is a very fond thing, and unworthy of
^^ the spirit of Christ, to think that we can do any thing
"better. than the rule of Divine Providence hath ap-
" pointed ; the foolishness of which [Providence] doth far
f^ exceed all the reach of human understanding. But wis-'
" dom can be seen by none, when nothing spiritual or
" divine can affect our understanding, in many respects
f* depressed and dark, unless brought in by the light of the
" Spirit. But they that think God is good and favourable
CHAP. " UDto his people, (who turneth all things to good, not
' " only miseries and afflietions, but even sinful and wicked
Anno isso. « actions,) how can they persuade their minds, that this ia
" unprofitable, hurtful, and damageable to those that be-
" long to him? of whom he taketh so exact a care, that
" not a hair of tiieir heads fiills to the groiind without \\a
'* will. And when in all our prayers to God we join this,
" that his will may be done, how inconstant and light
" shall we be, if before we ask of God to do what he
" pleaseth, but afterwards we cannot bear that which we
" have asked: and that which we prayed for before, we
" now do pray against ; not bearing that change, whereby
" God would have his people exercised and instructed to
" patience and sufTering. For although we have lost a
" great ornament and pillar of integrity, religion, and doc-
" trine; yet he is not to be lamented, who is gone to his
" Father's inheritance, for which we here are labouring
" with miserj- ; neither is the state of the Church to be
" lamented, which hath sent away so great a man to hea-
" ven. Nor ought wc to lament our own afflicted (as they
" appear) and decaying affairs, who should place more
" hope and safety in the Spirit of Christ, than in the voice
" even of an Apostle. But let us," as he subjoined, " learn
" hence to draw away our thoughts unto Christ, and again
" and again to beg his saving Spirit ; that the Church,
" being, as it were, devoid of all outward defence, may be
" refreshed by the inward aid of his Spirit ; and while we
" are deprived of our so great a parent, may be relieved
" by the authority of his Spirit, But why do 1 thus
" discourse with you? While I talk with you, 1 comfort
" myself; and while I meditate the ease of your sorrow, 1
" seek some medicine for mine own disease : not so much
" studying what is fit for me to write to you, as what
" seems convenient to ease mine own grief." And then,
as a further means to comfort Peter Martyr, (to wbmu he
wrote all this,) when he should hear with what honour
and respect his funerals were celebrated by the Uoivenity,
Chekc descended to shew him how he was interred in the
SIR JOHN CHEKE.
Gl
University church : that his corpse was attended thither by f
the Vice-Chancellor, the Doctors, and others that had ob- _
tained degrees in the University, and by all the rest of the Ai
Scholars ; and likewise by the Mayor of the town, and the
townsmen, who joined themselves with the University, the
more to honour his funerals, to the number, in all, of three
thousand persons. And that after the customary prayers
were said, Haddon, Doctor of Laws, and Orator of the
University, made an excellent Latin oration, aettmg forth
the praises of the great man deceased ; and Dr. Parker,
Head of a college, [he that was afterwards advanced to be
Archbishop of Canterbury,] made a sermon in English.
That the next day they resorted to the church again, when
Dr. Redman, another venerable man of the University,
preached a sennon upon the occasion ; and the students
did their parts, in honouring his hearse with copies of
verses. And lastly, that the good Archbishop Cranmer
took care of his family ; and that the University had wrote
lo the King and his Council in that behalf. All this did
Cheke impart to Martyr, concerning Bucer's death, by a
letter sent to Oxford.
To which I may add another letter upon the same aub- ci
ject, by the same pen, sent to Cambridge to Dr. Parker y,
afore-mentioned, who was Bucer's executor: it is extant,"
and remaining among the MSS. of Bene't college, i
lately pubhshed in the Memorials of Archbishop Cranmer.
Therein he signified, that he had delivered the University's
letter to the King, and spoke with the Lords of the Coun-
cil, and with Archbishop Cranmer, for Bucer's widow.
That he doubted not, but " she would be well and worthily
" considered. That the University had not done so great
" honour to Mr. Bucer, as credit and worship to themselves.
" The which, if they would continue in, as they ceased not
." to complain, they might be a great deal better provided
*' for than they thought they were. ^ITiat if they would
'* have sought either to recover or to increase the good
.*' opinion of men, they could not have devised wherein by
'' more duty they might worthily be commended, than in
papers fnr
the Kins-^
THE LIFE OF
following so notable a man with sucli testimony of ho-
nour, aa the child oiight to do to his father, and the
lower to his superior. And though he doubted not, but
the King's Majesty would provide some grave, learned
man to maintain God's true -learning in Ms University,
yet he thought, that of all learned men, in all pointg,
they should not receive Mr. Buccr's like ; whether his
deepness of knowledge were considered, or his eamesl-
ness in religion, his fatherliness in life, or his authorit]'
in knowledge. He wished that what was wanting
now by Mr, Bucer's death, they would, by diligence and
wisdom, fulfil in themselves; and what they praised in
others, would labour to obtain themselves, " Then he
prayed Dr. Parker, that Bucer's books and scrolls unwrit-
ten might be sent up, and sa^ed for the King, that he,
choosing such as should like him best, might return the
other without delay; except Mrs. Bucer thought some
other better thing to be done with tlieni, or that she
ehoidd have loss by them, if they should not be in ber
ordering. He was tender of being in the least prejudkU
to the benefit of her whose husband he so much valued^
however desirous he was to furnish the young Kin^f
library with the books and MSS. that once belonged to t
man of such worth and note as Bucer was.
SECT. IX.
Cheke piously writes unto Dr. Haddou, being sick.
MENTION was made of Dr. Hnddon. He waa Dodor
of JjawB, of King's college, and one of the topping men of
the University for piety, good learning, and especially tat
a cleanly Ciceronian style, and was one of Cheke'B diirf
friends. At this very time he laboured under a dangenMt
lingexing sickness, that had brought him very low. And ycf^
in the midst of it, however indisposed he was, his respeett
to Bucer put him upon pronouncing an oration at his (iiBe^
r^s, as was shewed before, when he seemed in all ootwud
appearance to be the verj' next man to follow him. ChcIA
SIK JOHN'CHEKE. G3
was now at Court, but was not umiiindful of Haddoti's '
decliiiiDg condition, aad did the part of a true epiritual —
fidend, by sending him his couneel and comfort in a wise ^'
and compassionate letter; which, ha-ving such a mixture of
piety and eloquence, and to preserve the small remainders
we have of this great man's composures, I shall translate
for the Engliah reader's benefit, though falling far short of
the writer's elegant Latin. It began, ^ittmntE et miserite
uoslrtE, quibus noli niodo guotidie j'actaniiir, sed Jluctua-
tnus etiam, t^c.
I " Our afflictions and miseries, wherewith we are not
f only daily tossed, but also are fluctuating up and down,
*' do administer great ease to your ailments, and comforts
*' in your sickness. I suppose, now you do not only look
*' upon death, which is the cud of life, but also upon
•' Christ, who ia the end of death, whose servants we are,
^' whether we live or die ; you have the example of a good
" and religious man, whose departure you lately most elo-
'* quently bewailed, [in his funeral oration upon Bucer,]
*f who hath prepared you an entrance to Christ. That if
" any must leave this light, the enjoyment whereof ia wont
•* to be dear to us all, he cannot be furnished with so many
" nor more noble exhortations, if he would turn over all
** the monuments of antiquity, than you have now placed
*• before your eyes; viz. the length of the distemper, which
" by much premeditation mitigates all grief; the frequent
•* and necessary thoughts of death, wliich take away the
** dehghts of this world, and diminish the childish appre-
" hensions of life and ease ; the great and heavy assaults
" of a disease, which break strength, and draw you neces-
** sarily into the meditation of death ; the death of Bucer,
*' the worth of whose life, if it could not deliver him from
" the jaws of death, what hope may we have of others,
f* whose praise, although great, yet of him there could not
« be greater and worthier ; but as childieii, so you per-
* baps, when they see their parents going out, they la-
P ment, they take on, they pray they may go abroad with
V them. Servants, who are employed upon ordinary and
* domestic work within doors, do not ask for that which
64 THE LIFE OF
CHAP. " they cannot obtain; nor do they know what they should
. " do abroad, being not accustomed to the business thai
Aqdo isso." lieth without, nor skilful how to manage it. You gee
" Bucer going before you. In his departure, you, half dead,
" cry [after him;] your friend doth not hear; you go not
" where fain you would : but there is one perhaps that
" hears, and leads you after your parent ; and in the mean
" time increaseth the anguish of your disease, which presa-
" eth you with grief, to make you weary of your body
, " as a prison; that your mind, free and at large, might
" take her flight to heaven, as your dwelling-house, and
" deliver it from these common and daily afflictions, which
" set 80 hard upon human life.
" Considering all this, what else may you think than
" this : My father is gone home; he calls me ; I must fol-
" low : so my will, so my nature bids me ; and so the wise
*' and the good God will have it; whose goodness I per-
" ceive as a son, whose wisdom I perceive as a mortal
" man, and whose presence as a creature. You arm your-
" self against the rage of the flesh, which if it be not quite
" buried, yet it ia broken with diseases ; and it teacheth
" you, (unless the eternal Workmaster restore you,) that
" an inveterate evil cannot be mended, and that we must
" look for another house whither to go, when we see the
" imminent and tottering ruin of this. But why do I call
" it a house ? A kingdom, and that hereditary, and a spa-
" cious territory, is prepared for you ; which, when it was
" once lost, Christ purchased for his people, by redeeming
" them from their sins, and bestowing on them his Spi-
" Here, perhaps, you will interpose, and say, Not nil who
" are oppressed with these pains presently ought to dis
" spair of health. It is not of necessity indeed ; but, how-
" ever, it is the part of wisdom to provide against the
" worst; and, that nothing may happen unawares, to think
" of eictremities, not to be afflicted for the loss of hfe, and
" not to despair of a better state : for neither should we
" live without hope, nor die with care ; lest either the life
" be miserable, wanting the comfort of hope, or death be
SIR JOHN CHEKE. SS
** bitter, being in a torture at the approach of it* For there sect.
are twelve hours in the day; which being spent, the sun
sets; being not spent, the light difiuseth itself to mor-Anno 1550.
" tals : nor does it set before the time prescribed by God
" come ; nor doth it stay longer than the appointed end of
^^ its course. Not so much as an hair falleth to the earth
'* without the will of our heavenly Father, at whose com-
** mand they all fall, and without it they remain ; giving
^' us to understand, that life and death are governed by his
^ authority and pleasure. And we should not be afraid of
^ what he provides, nor shun what he sends, nor decline
'^ what he commands. But I have no time for further dis-
** course of these things, by reason of my business ; nor
" have you leisure to read them, by reason of your indis-
'^ position. You will therefore excuse me, that here I make
'^ a stand. Farewell in Christ, dear Haddon. March 19,
** anno 1551. [£. e, anno 1550 eseunte.]"
This was the sum of Cheke's Christian as well as elo-
quent letter to the sick Haddon ; wherein he shewed him-
self a true friend, in the spiritual comforts and counsels
suggested to him. But Haddon (though at this present
low ebb of health) at length recovered, and lived to be
made use of both by King Edward and Queen Elizabeth.
To the latter whereof, after she had employed him in em-
bassies abroad, he became Master of her Requests. And
as he not long after this was preferred by the King, so was
Cheke: the one to be President of Magdalen college in
Oxford, anno 1552; the other, as a special mark of the
King's favour, to the honour of knighthood this ensuing
year, as we shall hear by and by.
GG THE LIFE OF
CHAP. IV.
From t/ie time of Cheke's ktdghthoody to his beitig made a
Privy Counsellor and Secretary of State.
SECT. L
Cheke is knigkted.
HonowB £ OR in the year 1551, and in the month of October^ was
the Ring ^ ^ ff^^ advancement to honour granted unto certain of the
"PJ^J^I^* nobility : Henry Grey, Marquis of Dorset, who married a
daughter of the late Duke of Suffolk, (which daughter he
had by Mary of the royal blood,) was created Duke of
Suffolk ; John Sutton, alias Dudley, ^EaA of Warwick, was
created Duke of Northumberland; Pbulet, Earl of Wilts,
was created Marquis of Winchester; Sir William Herbert
was made Lord Cardiff, and soon after Earl of Pembroke;
and at the same time, for the greater splendour of the day,
the King knighted his Secretary Cecil, his schoohiiaster
Cheke, and two that were chief gentlemen of his privy
chamber, Nevyl and Sidney.
The Ring*! To which I add the King's gift to him about six mcmths
^^^ before namely, in May, to enable him the better to main-
tain the port and honour that he was ere long to be in-
vested with. It was a gift in fee simple to John Cheke,
Esquire, (as it is set down in the warrant book,) in conn-
deration of the surrendry of an hundred mark rent, granted
him by letters patents, dated the 26th of August, in the se-
cond year of his reign for twenty-one years, if it should so
long please the King, of all the manor of Stoke juxta Clare
(as he had before given him the site of the coll^^ and
other lands belonging to it) in the counties of Suffolk and
Essex, with divers other lands, tenements, &c. all to the
yearly value of 145/. 19^. 3rf. To hold all the premises m
capite, by the fortieth part of a knight's fee, (except the
Fuller Mill in Stoke, and the Guildhall house there,) the
Pistery pasture, and other premises in Spalding, and the
SIR JOHN CHEKE. fl?
toryofSandon, and other premises in Sandon; to be holden sect,
as of the manor of Greenwich by feailty only, paying yearly '
to the King for the manor of Stobe 4l. 1 7s. "Jd. '^""'' '^^'•
C/ieke iuquisitive after Dr. Redman's declaration concern-
ing religion at hia death.
NOTHING of moment passed at Cambridge, or relating Tong's Ist-
to the members of it ; but Sir John Cheke was inquisitive ^n',^^^*
about it. Dr. Redman, Master of Trinity college, some R^iiainQ.
time fellow collegian with Clieke, one of the learnedest
and gravest men in that University, in the month of No-
vember, anno 1551, departed this life. A man he was of
such great esteem for his deep knowledge in divinity, and
acquaintance with the eccIesiaBtical fathers and writers,
and skill in the Scriptures, that his words bore a very
great weight and authority. This Doctor was reckoned
rather of the Popish side, than that of the Protestants. He *
owned outwardly transubstautiation and justification by
works ; though in other matters he was more loose from
the corruptions and superstitions of the Roman Church.
But coming to lie on his deathbed at Westminster, the
leameder sort attended him, and prayed him, as a dying
man, (since the world had such a deference for his learn-
ing,) to declare impartially his thoughts of several matters
then controverted in the Church, wliich he promised he
would do most sincerely. His answers were all in fiivour
of the Reformation, and particularly he shewed the rotten-
ness of those distinguishing Papal doctrines tjefore men-
tioned, which he seemed outwardly to have adhered to.
There were then present Wilks, Master of Christ's col-
lege, Cambridge ; Alexander Nowell, Master of the King's
school at Westminster, and divers others ; and particularly
Mr. Yong, B. D. of Trinity college, none of the most ear-
nest favourers of religion, and a great opposer of Martin
Bucer, but a learned man. Cheke, desirous to know the
truth of these things, sent to the said Yong, praying him
68 THE LIFE OF
CHAP- for a juBt account of the declaration that grave and reve-
' rend man had made. In answer to which he sent him a
Anno 1551. large letter, the original whereof fell into the haodsof John
Foi, first Fox, the MartjTologist j and he printed it in his first edi-
''■''' ' lion of hia Acts and Monuments. The translation whereof
into English remaineth in the after editions. It began,
Etst ammus mihi 7ion mediocri dolore percuhus est, vir
amplissime, propter itnmaturam {nisi ita Deo visum) et
Jiebilem sanctissimi et erudilissimi viri J). Redmamii mor-
tem; adeo ut luctu et nuerore multum stupefactus, vvc
tandem semet aut ad agendum, aut ad cogttandiim expe-
dial ; tamen cum id tuam amplitttdinem me facere velU
inlelligam, libenter me ipse colligo, atque qua ab ipso jm
et docto Redmanno bonis mmioricE viro, dum adkxic diu-
tuma infirmitate contabescens certam mortem expectaret,
de religionis cantroversiis, quibus hodie Christi spoma
Ecclesia misere dtvexatur, projiuntiata audiverim, Jide-
liter et vere hisce meis Uteris enarrare instituo : i, e. " AI-
' " though, worthy Sir, I am strucli with do small grief
" at the untimely {had it not so pleased God) and deplo-
" rable death of Dr. Redman, that most holy and ex-
" cellently learned man, so that much overcome with
" mourning and sorrow, I scarce can recover myself freely
" to do or think any thing ; yet since I understand it is
" your pleasure I should do it, I willingly recollect myself,
*' and do resolve faithfully and truly to declare in this my
*' letter, what I heard the pious and learned Redman of
" good memory speak, while he was wasting with sick-
" uess, and expected certain death, concerning the con-
" troversies of religion, with which the Church, Christ's
" spouse, is miserahly vexed." . Then he shewed Chcke
how Mr. Alexander Nowell, one that was always a lover
and valuer of him, accosted him once, being near hia end,
to shew his mind concerning certain points to him aoid
the rest present; and what they should look upon, M
though it were an oracle from heaven. The points were
these : concerning his judgment of the Bishop and sm of
Rome ; concerning purgatory j whether the wicked eat t!ve
SIR JOHN CHEKE. B9
body of Christj whether Christ be present in the Sacra- sect.
ment, and be to be worshipped there; concerning the car- '__
rying about of the Sacrament in solemn pomps and pro- Anno 1&5
cessions ; concerning commemoration of the dead, justifi-
cation by faith, and the merit of good works. To all
which, that reverend man gave his reaohition the Protest-
ant way, as Yong shewed Cheke at large in Ms letter,
which he thus concluded : Alque h<BC quidem sunt, guee
ego ad questiones siM propositas, eum respondisse audivi.
Nee vera usquam (quad memini) ab ea quam ab ipso
enuntiatam audivi sententia dejlexi. D. nosier Jesus
Christus has turbulentas, quibus Ecclesia jactatur, teni-
pestates compescere dignetur, miserumque suum, ovile mi-
serahiliter jam dissipatum et dispersum propiHus intuea-
tur et aspiciatf propter nomen sanctum suum. Amen.
Ipse tuam nmplitudinent gubeniare dignetur et servet.
Z-otuUm, 3 Novemhr. Sfc. i. e, " And these are the things
" which I heard him answer to the questions to him pro-
" pounded. Nor have I ever myself (as far as I remem-
" ber) wandered from that opinion which I heard declared
" by him. Our Lord Jesus Christ vouchsafe to allay these
*' stonny tempests, with which the Church is tossed, and
" regard and look in mercy upon his poor aheepfold, nii-
" serably dispersed and scattered for hia holy name sake.
" Amen. May he vouchsafe to rule and keep you. Lon-
*' don, the 3d of November, &c."
SECT. m.
C/te/ce's disputations coticembig the Sacrament.
ABOUT this time Cheke, with some others, was en-AMiaiioi
gaged in two disputations, or rather friendly conferences, "eteu^J
privately with Feckenham, (who was afterwards Dean ofLiiekenn
St. Paul's and Abbot of Westminster,) and one or twOai„ut'th«
more of his party, in the great controversy of the real pre- Sacramen
eence in the Sacrament. The first was lield at Secretary
Cecil's house, and the latter at Sir Richard Morison's.
The auditors were but six, viz. the Lord Russel, Sir Tho-
p 3
70 THE LIFE OF
CHAP, mas Wroth of the Bedchamber ; Sir Anthony Cooke, (me of
^' the Kfaig's instructors ; Throgmorton, Chambeiliun of tbe
Anno 16S1. Exchequer ; Mr. KnoUes and Mr. Harrington ; with wham
were jcmied the Marquis of Northampton and the Eail of
Rutland in the second conference. The disputants were
^ y^ Sir John Cheke, and with him Sir WiUiam Cecil, Secre-
{ ^ tarjr of State; Horn, Dean of Durham; Whitehead and
Grindal; who were against the real presence : Feckenham,
\y Vong, and, at the second disputation, Watson; who were
for it. Some account of these (fisputations are still extant
in Latin, in the MS. library of Bene't cdlq^ in Cam*
bridge. And to preserve what remainders we can of
Cheke's, and Ukewise to satisfy any that are desirous to
look into the Church history of England in those days, I
have translated them into English^ and exemplified then
here: only first premising, that I suppose this confer-
ence might be occasioned from an appearance of the said
FeckeDham Feckenham before Cheke by public order, to be examined
Tower, hy him; when Cheke entered into discourse with him
^"^"^^^ ^ about points of religion, and endeavoured to bring him
from his Popish principles, but could not prevail, which
might provoke to a more particular disputation iK^tween
them upon the great master-controversy of transubstantia-
tion.
27te sum of a conference held Nov. 25, an. Dom. 1551, «»
the house of Cecil, the King*s Secretary, concerning the
Sacrament.
AUDITORS.
The Lord Russel Mr. Throgmorton
Mr. Hales Mr. Knolles
Mr Wroth Mr. Harrington
Sir Anthony Cooke
DISPUTANTS.
Sir William Cecil Mr. Feckenham
Sir John Cheke
Mr. Horn, Dean of Durham and
Mr. Whitehead
Mr. Grindal Mr. Yonge
SIR JOHN CHEKE. 71
Mr. Cheke began to propound; but first Mir. Cecil SECT,
made a protestation^ that it should be free for any one to ™'
produce his sentence or opinion, and that whatsoever inAnnoissii
this discourse should be spoken, should redound to no^Bibiioth.
man's harm or prejudice.
The question. What was the true and genuine sense of
the words of the Supper, This is my body; whether thcd
which the words taken in the grammatical sense hold
forth, or some other.
Feckenham. All the words of Christ are either ostensive
or effective: ostensive,- as, / am the good shepherd, Sfc;
effective, as to the leper, Be clean : Ephphata, Se opened,
Sfc. But in effective speeches, the Lord doth those things
which the words sound, and that by reason of his omnipo-
tency. Since therefore these words are effective, it fol-
loweth, &c.
Cheke to this answered ; Admitting that division, it may
be answered. The Lord hath done that which he would, if
the speech be effeotive. But he would here institute a
sacrament ; to the institution of which it is not necessa*
rily required^ that the words should be understood in a
grammatical sense.
Feckenham. The Lord would not institute a sacrament
only, but also give his body in the sacrament, according
to his promise in these words. This is my hod^; and ac-
cording to that, John vi. T%e bread which I will give is
my flesh, which I will give, S^c. There is / wiU give
twice ; once in the Supper, and again in the crosi^.
Cheke. That we may therefore come, said he, briefly Qucstio.
to what we would have, I demand, whether the Lord
would institute here a sacrament, or not ?
Feckenham answered he would; but not only a bare
figure, but a sacrament, and the matter of a sacra-
ment.
Cheke. I ask, therefore, whether this is the true sense
of the word. This is my body, that is, my natural body ;
or this rather. This is the sacrament of my bocfy ?
f4
THE LIFE OF
Feckenham answered, Both might be the sense of the
_ words.
1. Cli. But Thin is the sacrament of my body can be no
Bense, unless we admit a trope in those words,
Mr. Whitehead. There can be no grammatical sense
of this place. For Christ said, / leave the world ; which
all confess to be understood of the humanity of Christ:
but to leave the world, and to be in the world, are repug-
nant. Ergo.
Feck, He left the world as to his visible presence and
conversation; but in his invisible presence, the substance
of his body is present in the Sacrament, according to bis
own words. This is my body.
JVhiteh. To be in the world, and to be not in the
world, are terms contradictory; but God cai]»ot malce
contradictories to be true together, as Scotus said. Ergo.
Yang. Then Yong, when the nature of contradictories
was urged,said,Theyare not contradictories, but sj(i«//CTTia.
ffh. Yea, they are singularia, not an universal, and a
particular, / leave the world, and / am in the world.
Yong. But it may be contradicted out of the Scrip-
tures from this place. For I am with you always, Sfc.
which eeem to be understood of his humanity.
When the contrary was urged, that this is to be under-
stood, according to the opinion of St. Augustin, of the
divine majesty and grace, then
Yong. But, said he, according to his mq/esiy and gran
he was always present to the Fathers of the Old Testfr
ment. Therefore what greater matter seems to be pn*
mised to the Apostles than was given to the Fatbenf
This must be understood of liis humanity.
Then all with one mouth said, The Lord was prewnt
with his Apostles, acc-ording to the more plentiful grace
and energy of the Holy Spirit, than he was with the Fa-
thers, and this was asserted by all interpreters,
Yong ingeniously confessed it was so, and that he
brought this for disputation's sake.
SIR JOHN CHEKE. fS
Therefore the mtermitted argument was resumed, viz. SECT.
Ill
Absent is not present, and the same answer was given as
above. Anno 1561,
Cheke, Whether can this be truly spoken, Christ left
the world, therefore the substance of Christ left the world.
How Feckenham answered, he remembereth not.
That of Augustin was added, ^^ Take away the spaces
** of places from bodies, and they will be no where." And
because they are no where, they are not. And this is the
difference between the Creator and a creature, that God
alone may be at every time every where, or in more
places; whence the ancients prove the divinity of the
Holy Ghost. But no creature can be together in more
places; therefore the body of CImst, though it be now
glorified, yet is not a spirit, and if it were a spirit it would
signify nothing ; for the angels, if they are not in a place
circumscriptive, yet they are definitive, &c. therefore the
body of Christ cannot be in more places at once.
Feck. The body of Christ is in more places at once
tanquam in loco. He is in heaven as in a place. In the
Sacrament, although he hath quantity, quality, and other
proprieties of a true body, yet he is not in the Sacrament
secundum modum quantiy or, as the Schoolmen speak, he
is not there quantitative or localiter.
Cheke. These are monsters of words, which cannot be
comprehended by human understanding.
Feck. The thing is of faith, not reason; therefore we
ought to believe the word of God.
Cheke propounded an argument of evil men, and of un-
worthy receiving the Eucharist.
If this be the sense of the words, which the words hold
forth, then the evil eat the body of Christ.
But Christ saith. He that eateth wyfiesh B^c. shall live
for ever.
Therefore the evil have eternal life.
Feck. The wicked receive Christ's body ; but to con-
denmation, according to. that of St. Paul, He that eateth
74 THE LIFE OP
CHAP, and drMteth unworthibfj eaMh and drinkeih damnor
Hon.
iMi. When it was on the contrary objected, that Christ oodU
not remain together with Satan in wicked men :
Yong interropted this discourse, and said, that there
was a great variety of opinions in asserting this doctrine^
[of the wicked eating Christ's body,] many absiurdities
concerning the length of the time of his tarryii^, (in the
communicant,] concermng the time of his departing; and
pretending, as he seemed, that this assertion, that the
wicked eat Christ, did not sufficiently please him.
Horn said, that the circumstances of the jdace evince
that Christ spake not according to the grammatical sense.
For Christ, when he said. This is my body, added also, vi
SiSoftfyoy, delivered. But an adjective in i^eech cannot be
drawn from its substantive in grammatical sense : it fol-
loweth therefore, that the body of Christ was ddivered,
when these words were spoken : and so it was delivered
[or ^ven] before his passion.
Feck, Although it be here read, tradituniy ^ delivoed,"
yet it may be easily perceived, tiiat Christ spake of the
time to come as though it were past.
Ham. I ask whetiier the body of Christ was a true and
natural body, and qualified with all the accidents of aa
human body, or had some privileges?
Feck, When he admonished, that the question w»
double, and answered both were true, viz. That he had all
the accidents of human nature ; and yet, when it seemed
good to him, he had some privil^es ; then
Horn. The body of Christ before his passion was a
mortal body, and in some place; but if we admit the
grammatical sense, when he reached fcnrth to each the Sa-
crament, it was in their hands to whom he gave it. And
he sat not only there, but in the Aposties' hands ; he was
at once in various places : therefore Christ's body had not
' the true accidents of an human body.
Feck. Therefore, because of this I said, that Christ's
SIR JOHN CHEKE.
body had certain privileges. For when he walked upon ^^,^^"
the water, he retained not the natural reason of a ponder-
ous body. So therefore in the Supper. And if he were'^'
then mortal, yet he gave his body after an immortal man-
ner. So also in the Mount he trdnsfig\ired himself, and
yielded a certain specimen of immortality; where he kept
not the natural accidents of an human body, but shewed
there an immortal body-
When Yong had come in with something, I know not
what, as though by some other answer he would oppose
the former argument ;
Feckenham said, that he nothing helped the cause. For
by your answer it would follow, that the body of Christ
would be at the same time mortal and immortal ; which is
absurd ; for some interpreters affirm the body of Christ in
the Mount for a time was immortal, and could not in that
time by any means be put to death by the Jews.
When Mr. Horn had pursued the same thing a good
while by subtile reasons, Edmund Grindal was bid to pro-
pound a reason or two.
Then he ; Because we ought to argue out of the Scrip-
tures, it would be best to compare the circumstances of
places, and other words of the Supper together: first,
therefore, this seemeth worthy to be noted, that the Holy
Ghost calleth it so often the Ijread, and Paul the bread,
and the Holy Ghost best knoweth the names of things :
therefore it is bread.
J^eck. Then it was called bread, because it was bread;
or the rod of Moses, &c. and therefore in Paul is always
added. That bread, Sfc.
Grind. What did Christ take into bis hand ? .
Feck, He answered. Bread.
Grind. What did he break ?
Feck, Bread also; but, saith he, we must consider
also, that he brake it before the consecration, and before
these words, This is my body.
Grind. You differ indeed from others, that he brake it,
being akeady consecrated ; and yet the breaking was not
76
THE LIFE OF
CHAP, in the body, but ui those species, and that also absurdl;
• enough ; but we shall not tairj' upon these thioga, but be-
Anno is&i. cause it is much more plain of the other part of the Sa-
crament, therefore I shall produce that before us. The
words are manifest enough, / will not drink hera^^
of this fruit of the vine. Therefore there is nothing but
wine.
Feck, Luke twice makes mention of the cup; once, be-
fore the mention of the Sacrament; the second time, when
the Supper was over. These words of Christ seem to be
referred to the cup not consecrated.
Gritui. This conjecture is not a demonstration; for
Matthew and Mark presently after these words. This u
mi/ bofli/, (which are the words, as you say, of c-onae-
cration,) join the words recited before. And although
Luke twice makes mention of the cup, yet Augustin, in
his book of the consent of the Gospels, thinks the same
thing is twice told in Luke : but I demand whether Christ
drank of the cup consecrated ?
Feck. He answered, he drank of it.
Grind. What therefore did he drink? his own ble
Feckenhani acknowledged it.
Grind. But for what end did he drink of his own blood?
Chrjsostom writ, " That he, by drinking, did call off hifi
*' Disciples from this thought ; that they should not
" or say, Behold, we drink blood," &c.
When Feckenham always urged these words of
This is my blood which is shed for j/oti, as clear,
therefore no man should doubt of them, it was asked him
by the way (because he noted the emphasis of the words,
that Christ said hie and hoc.)
What was shewn by hie, " this?"
Feckenham answered, The blood.
Then Grindal, What grammatical sense is this,
guis est sanguis, i. e. *' This blood is blood."
Lastly, he propounded this argument ; These words <
Supper, This is my hotly, can be by no better way i
out, whether they be spoken figuratively or properly,
blooi^l
I blood?
> off his
lot Uij^^_
f 0^1
ear, im^*
SIR JOHN CHEKE. 77
if the words of the other part of the Supper^ as I stdd^ be sect.
viewed together ; for if in the other part a trope shall ma- 1.
nifestly appear^ why not also in this ? Anno iwi.
Feckenham denied there was a trope in these words^
TThis cup is the new testament in my blood.
Grind. Neither the cup, nor that which was contained
in the cup, can be the new testament. For the new
testament is defined the covenant of grace between God
and the elect; therefore neither the symbol itself, nor the
blood of Christ, can properly be called the new testa-
ment, when the blood of Christ is the confirmation of the
new testament.
Feck. The blood of Christ in the cup (for this cup
hath a trope) is both a confirmation of the new testa-
ment, and also the new testament.
Grind. That which is contained in the cup, whatever it
be, is a substance. The new testament is a relation, and
so also an accident. From whence follows, (the word be-
ing rightly understood,) that a substance is an accident,
and that there is an identical predication between sub-
stance and relation or accident.
Feckenham and Yong by long fetches endeavoured to
shew, how the body of Christ might properly be said to be
the new testament, &c.
The second conference, Dec. 3, an. Dom. 1551, in Sir
Richard Morison's house.
«
PRESENT.
The Marquis of Northampton. MSS.
The Earl of Rutland. ^' ^' ^' ^'
The Lord Russel, with the rest formeriy named, toge-
ther with Mr« Watson on the Papist side.
Cheke. Whether the words of the Supper are to be im- \/
derstood according to the grammatical sense, or rather, in
a figurative sense.
Watson answered the same to this, as Feckenham be-
THE LIFE OF
CHAP, fore; namely, that there were two kinds of speaking,^
one narratory, the other operatory, &c.
Annoiasi. Being desired of Mr. Cecil, that he would propotBtd
more contractedly wliat he said a little before more
largely, he propounded this argument :
These words, This is my bwly, are the form of the «a-
crament of the Eucharist : but in every form of a sacra-
ment God worketh that which the words signify. There-
fore in these words, This is my body, God worketh that
which his words signify.
Mr. Cheke desired him to confirm the major with res-
V
Then he brought the example of Baptism : in whicli
these words, " I baptize thee in the name of the Father,"
&c. are the form of the sacrament, but God worketh that
which the words signi^', taken in the grammatical sense.
For as the body is washed with water, so inwardly the
soul is washed by the Holy Spirit. Moreover, stuth he,
this is a principle in divinity, God workelh those t/dtigt
which the words signify in f he forms of the sacramenis.
Cheke. I do not acknowledge that principle in divinity,
(truly so called,) that words should he all taken according
to the grammatical sense and proper meaning of speech.
It is as if God worketh that which the Spirit of God wonU
signify by his word, whether taken figuratively or
perly.
Cheke propounded a new question, whether Christ'
the Supper instituted any sacrament or not ?
Jfntson. Here is an equivocation in the word sarra-
ment. For a sacrament is taken both for the sign and
for that very thing that is signified. So among the (in-
cients, that which they call the Sacrament of the /jodtf of
Christ, and the body of Christ, speaking of the Euchuis^
is the same.
Cheke. This distinction is unseasonable ; for if CI
instituted a sacrament^ it is necessary that there be
crament and the mutter of a sacrament.
Watson granted it.
.1
SIR JOHN CHEKE.
79
Cheke. But a sacrament and the matter of a sacra- SECT.
ment are membra il'widoitia, and so dtsparata ; therefore '
one thing i^nnot be another. And so the same thing caii-AnQoissi.
not be the Sacrament and the matter of the Sacrament.
fVatson. I opened before the equivocation of the word,
that we may more briefly pass it over. For in thia Sacra-
ment the body of Christ is the true matter of the Sacra-
ment, and the Sacniment also; for it ia the Sacrament of
the mystical body of Christ.
. Cheke. The same thing cannot be a sacrament and
the matter of a sacrament by the definition. For the Sa-
crament is a visible sign of an invisible grace, and the sign
of a sacred thing, &c.
Grind. No better way can be gone for the understand-
ing of these words, than by comparison of the sacraments,
and the circumstances of the words; which you seem
yourselves very much to approve of. Let Baptiam there-
fore and the Eucharist be compared, whence we may col-
lect after this manner; God doth not work that which
the words taken in the granAnatical sense do signify con-
cerning Baptism, therefore neither in the Eucharist.
Watson hade him confirm his antecedent.
Grind. Concerning Baptism it is said thus, Unless a
man he horn again of water and of the Spirit, Sfc. But
according to the proper and grammatical manner of
speech, no man ia born agMn in Baptism. Therefore the
same may be afiirmed in the Eucharist.
fVatson. 1 said, that God performs those things which
the words do signify in the forms of the sacraments ; but
these words. Unless a man be' ham again of water, Sfc.
are not the formal words of Baptism ; but these, " I bap-
" tize thee in the name of the Father," &c.
Grind. Although these are not, as the schools speak,
the form, yet these do express the true effect of Baptism,
when nevertheless they are metaphorical : but let us ex-
amine even the formal words, " I baptize thee in the
« name," &c. Is / baptize here taken properly or meta-
phorically ?
BO
THE LIFE OF
«
V;
HAP. Watson answered, Properly.
' Grind. To baptize in the proper sense is to wash ; Init
II issi.the true effect of Baptism is not the washing of the bodj,
as Peter teacheth, but of the soul. The soul is not washed,
if we speak properly ; therefore neither is it baptized,
ffatson. The soul properly spealung is washed.
Grind. Nothing is washed besides the body. The soul
is not the body. Ergo.
Grind. I demand, when Christ said. Take ye, must we
beheve he spake properly?
ff^atson. Properly.
Grind. Eat ye; was that properly spoken
Wataon said, Yes.
Grind. Therefore the body of Christ properly speak-
ing is eaten or chewed.
Watson. He granted that too.
Grind. To eat, if it be defined according to the pro-
priety of the word, is to divide with the teeth, and to
carry it down into the stomach; but the body of Christ
properly speaking is not divided, because it sufFereth not
Ergo.
Watson here cavilled much of I know not what Jpi-
ritual eating; which yet was proper, and without any ne-
cessity of suffering.
I Mr. Cecil would have had some demonstration pro-
_!*^ ;Ji pounded by somebody syllogistically, which might evince
it to be a trope, that Watson might answer. Therefore
this argument was offered :
A trope is to be admitted, rather than a contrariety to
be suffered in the Scriptures ; but these words of the Sup-
per properly understood do bring in a contrariety in the
Scriptures : therefore a trope must be admitted in tbeoi.
Watson would have the minor proved.
Grind. The Scriptures distribute to us the fleah of
Christ, with all the accidents of a true body ; but if in the
Eucharist there be a true and natural body, to wit, longi-
tude and latitude, whence a contrariety is brought into
Scripture,
SIR JOHN CHEKE. 81
Admitting the propriety of the words, it followeth, that SECT,
the evil and the wicked do eat the body of Christ. But "^*
that brings with it a contrariety and repugnancy in the^^^^^^^^'
Scriptures. Therefore the propriety of the words is not
to be admitted, but a trope.
Watson. That the wicked eat the body of Christ is not
repugnant to the Scripture.
Grind. He that eateth the flesh of Christ hath eternal
life^ John vi. The wicked have not eternal life. Therefore
they eat not the body of Christ.
Watson. The matter of the Sacrament is twofold; the /
natural body of Christ, and the mystical body of Christ. V
The wicked eat the body as to his substance, but the vir-
tue of the Sacrament, that is, the mystical body of Christy
they eat not.
Grind. The Church is the mystical body of Christ;
but who saith that the Church is eaten ?
After followed a subtle kind of dispute between Cheke
and Watson, of essential and accidental grace ; for Wat-
son had said, that Christ himself was the essence of grace.
Cheke. If the wicked eat Christ, they receive essential
grace; but essential grace is somewhat a greater thing
than accidental. But he that receiveth the greater, re-
ceiveth that which is less. Therefore the wicked in the
Sacrament do receive Christ and remission of sins, or the
fruit of Christ's passion, which you call accidental grace.
Watson eluded the argument with I know not what lo-
gical distinction.
Whitehead's argument. Transubstantiation destroys the
nature of a sacrament, which ought to have some simili-
tude with the thing itself; as Augustin in his Epistle to
Boniface. And Paul brings an argument from this simili-
tude. We being many are one bread and one body, Sfc.
There is a similitude, as bread in the Sacrament is made
of many corns, so we, &c. But now if there be no bread,
there is no similitude.
Watson. This place very much strengtheneth my opin-
ion ; for Paul saith, We all partake of one bread. But
S2 THE LIFE OF
CHAP, what is that one bread but Christ? For the bread wluch
' you take in the Sacrament one time, and 1 at another, is
Anno 1351. not one bread, but many. Paul saith, We all eat of one
bread, Sjc,
fVMlek. It ia one, because it is taken for the same end,
, and 19 used in the aauie mysteriea. For Paul doth not
Bpeak of that which ia one in number, but one in specie.
Then followed a new wranghng with Mr, Cheke, iriifr
ther it might be truly said, that it ia the same water of B^
tism in which various pcraone are baptized at various timet.
Watson said, It is one BaptiBm, hut not one water.
Cheke added another reason, viz. that all that were
baptized had put on Christ, and received the Spirit of
Christ; for, witosoever hath not this Spirit of Christ is
none of his : by Baptism it is effected, that we are bre-
thren and coheu^ of Christ; which cannot be, unless we
do participate of his body and blood in Baptism. There-
fore Paul, 1 Cor. xii. expressed by these words the same
effect of Baptism and the Eucharist ; JUj/ one Spirit we art
alt baptized into one hody, and have all drank into one
Spirit: which latter clause Chrysostom understands of
the Eucharist. Therefore he attributed to Baptism incor-
\j' poration with Christ; to the Eucharist the receiving of
the Spirit: that from, hence it may be manifestly col-
lected, even in Baptism the same communion of Christ is
conferred upon us, as is in the Eucharist. But because in
\j/ Baptism there is no need of a real and natural presence of
Christ, there will not be need of it also in the Eucharist.
fVatson. There is a diverse reason of Baptism and the
Eucharist, and different effects. For in Baptism we re-
ceive the Spirit of God to regeneration, and so by his Spirit
our spirit is quickened : but in the Eucharist we reccire
the true substance of his flesh ; from which not only our
spirit, but our flesh is quickened. And so tliat comes to
pass which is so often in Cyril; that we are naturally
united to Christ, and that there is a natural union betwixt
the flesh of Christ (which hath a power of quickening) ttad
our flesh, which without it cannot have life. And to this
SIR JOHN CHEKE. 8S
sense he took the words of John^ chap. vi. Unless ye eat SECT.
the flesh of the Son of man^ Sfc. that is, unless in the
Euchari^ ye be partakers of his natural flesh, ye shall not Anno issi,
have life in you, that is, in your bodies, or in the flesh ; for
*^ our flesh would not rise to glory without the flesh of
^^ Christ,*' as it is in Hilary.
Here the condition of infants was urged, and dying in
infancy ; and of adult persons dying soon after the par-
taking of the Eucharist.
Watson did endeavour to evade by certain distinctions ;
to wit, that nisiy ^^ unless," makes not an absolute neces-
sity, but if he have the Sacrament, or the desire of the Sa-
crament. As it is in Baptism, where it is said^ Unless one
he bom again^ S^c. Yet nevertheless he seemed to attri-
bute something less to children departing before the Eu-
charist, than to the adult which have communicated.
Grind. If our flesh cannot rise any otherwise to life
(which you assert) but by eating the natural body of
Christ, and by that natural unions as you call it, we shall
indeed fall into many absurdities. For what shall we say
of the Fathers of the Old Testament ? Paul saith, ITiey
eat the same spiritual meat, which we do, and drank the
same ^ritual drinky to wit, Christ: but they could not eat
the natural flesh of Christ, as being not yet bom, therefore
we may together with them eat Christ, though we do not
eat his natural flesh.
Watson denied that the Fathers eat the same mesA,
which we do. For they eat the same spiritual meat; but
we eat not only the same spiritual meat, but real food
also.
Grind, If the Fathers had not the same communion
with Christ, and natural conjunction with him, as we have
in the Eucharist, it would follow, the Fathers should not
have life in their bodies ; and so in the resurrection, the
bodies and flesh of the Patriarchs, wanting this substantial
participation, would not rise to life, which is most absurd.
Augustin saith, " Many shall come from the east and
*' from the west, and shall sit down, not above Abraham,
g2
84 THE LIFE OF
CHAP. ^^ Isaac^ and Jacob, but with Abraham, Isaac^ and Jacob,
^^ in the kingdom of heaven."
Anno 1551.
Arguments from, the Fathers.
A place of Augustin was produced from the twelfth
chapter of the book. Contra Adamantum Manichesum.
^^ Nor did the Lord doubt to say, This is my body, Yrhen
^* he gave a sign of his body."
Feckenham confessed a sign, but not a sign only.
Another place was produced out of Augustin^ in his
third book of Questions upon Leviticus, chap. Ivii. where
he saith. The se^en ears of com are seven years. He
saith not, they signify. The Rock was Christ; not, lastly,
as though that were which indeed for the substance was
not, but by signification. The Rock was Christ, and. This
is my body J are of the same nature; but the first proposi-
tion is figurative, therefore the second.
Watson contended that this proposition, T%e rock was
Christ, was not figurative.
A place was brought by Watson, which is in St. Angus-
tin, lib. i. Of the Merits and Remission of Sins. ^^ We do
^^ not doubt but the blood is shed for baptized infants,
^^ which before it was shed, &c. So the Sacrament was
^^ given and commended, that it might be said, T^is is my
^' blood:'
To which place it was answered thus ; That none were
ignorant that the ancients used that form of speech, as
Christ himself, calling the sacraments by the same names
as the matters of the sacraments were. Augustin in his
Epistle to Archbishop Boniface, numero 23. saith, ^* The
^^ sacraments have the names of those things of which
^^ they are the sacraments ; therefore the sacrament of
'' faith is caUed faith," &c.
fPatson. That place to Boniface makes nothing for yon;
for although it may be taken according to a certain man-
ner, yet that manner is not to be thought significative ;
for otherwise it may be inquired, according to what man-
ner the sacrament of- faith is called faith?
SIR JOHN CHEKE. 85
Then he, [Grindal, I suppose,] According to whatever sect.
manner you will. Properly speaking. Baptism, or the sa-
crament of faith, may not be called faith; and so neither -^^©i 65 1.
the sacrament of the body and blood of Christ, according
to that reason, is the body and blood of Christ.
The Marquis of Northampton produced a place out of
Cyprian, and it is in the sermon de Unctione. Let the
place be read.
*' The Lord gave in the table bread and wine, in the
^' cross," &c.
In which place Watson laboured after a wonderful man-
ner. The first antithesis, viz. *^ The Lord gave bread," he
lightly passed over; he insisted on the following words,
namely, ^* That Christ should teach the Apostles, that
*^ they in like manner might teach the people, how bread
*^ and wine is flesh and blood;" for otherwise, saith he, if
bread and wine are only signs, he might easily teach this.
That way he wrested that which followeth.
Cheke. He saith not how they were changed, but how .
they were : but bread and wine by no means can be the \y
body and blood of Christ, unless after a sacramental and
significative manner. And therefore afterward he saith,
the things that signify, and the things signified, are to be
reputed under the same names.
That place also of Augustin was objected, lib. iii. Of the
Christian Doctrine; Sijlagitium autfacinusy Sfc. It is a /
JigtATadve speech; and therefore it was urged, it was a /
figurative speech to eat the flesh of Christ j John vi. and
therefore the words of the Supper are figurative.
Feckenham acknowledged this place to be difficult, yet
to it, it might thus be answered; Augustin saith, Videtur
prcBcipere fcuAnitSy ** He seemed to command a wicked
^* deed;" but indeed in these words no wickedness is com-
manded. And Augustin in another place hath it, ^' It is
^^ forbid in the law to eat the blood of living creatures ;
*' but to us it is commanded, not to drink the blood of a
** living creature, but of Christ himself."
Cheke. See therefore how you endeavour to invert St.
g3
8G
THE LIFE OF
CHAP. Augustiii'a opinion; for he gathereth, that it is a i
' from thence, that he aeemeth to command a wicked i
Anno 1551. ;y)j therefore he subjoineth, " Therefore it is a figure."*
Watson saidj tliat the speech was proper, as it per
eth to the true eating of Christ ; but figurative, as it be-
longeth to such things as follow in Augustin, mx. when it
is taken for the imitation of the passion, and remembraoce
of the death of Christ.
But this answer was ahewu to repugn Eufficiently to
the scope of Augustin, who makes the whole speech to be
tropical ; not proper, but tropical : for, saith he, " in the
" proper sense he seemeth to command a wicked deed,"
Another place was produced out of the same hook in
these words, " As it ia the part of servile infintuty to fol-
" low the letter, and to interpret signs for things, so to
" interpret the signs unprofitably is the part of extrava-
" gant error,"
Watson answered, that Augustin speaketh there of the
signs of the Old Testament; but when he had read the
place, where it speaks manifestly of Baptism and the Eu-
charist, he agdn gidnsaid somewhat, I know not wbU.
And the most rose up, that here might be an end. ^^H
SECT. IV. ^1
liesigm /lis Greek Professorship. Gels LelmuPs MSS.
Falls sick.
CHEKE had liitherto held the place of the Greek lec-
ture in Cambridge, conferred upon him by his old master,
King Henrj' VII!. though 1 suppose he substituted some-
body else to read in his stead, who seems to have been
Nicholas Car, Fellow of Trinity college; who now, tlie
12th day of October this year, being an exquisite Greciaii,
was appointed to succeed Cheke in that lecture, by order
of the Privy Council, find that by procurement, as it seenU)
of Chcke himself.
It was Cheke'a practice (in order to the fumistung op
an excellent library for the King) to procure us nun?
»edi Cheki
SIR JOHN CHEKE.
87
MSS, as he could of learned men, into hU possession, for sect.
King Edward's use. Thus, as he got the papers and books of
Dr. Martui Bucer, after his decease the last year, so he did -*■""> 'ssa.
those of John Leland, the antiquarian, this, upon hia death,
which happened in April 1552. And all the MSS. and col-
lections, (as we are told by a late author,) with many Procures
other matters of moment belonging to Leland, by virtue '^p,'^,*"
of a commandment from the King, were brought into SirK'ngi
John Cheke's custody, for the use of that King's library ; oxno. p.
■and which the King seemed to have a right and title to,''^' ^''■
since Leland had been employed by the King's father to
make those collections out of the libraries of the dissolved
monasteries and elsewhere, and had a salary allowed him
for that purpose, and other preferments granted him.
That author adds, that not long after, our Cheke {it must
rather be his son Heni-y, who was Secretary to the Coun-
cil in the north under Queen Elizabeth) gave four volumes
of these collections to Humphrey Furefoy, Esq. one of the
Kud Coimcil, whose son, Thomas Purefoy of Barwel in
Leicestershire, gave them to the antiquarian Will. Burton
of Lindley in the same county, anno 1613, who made use
of them in his description of Leicestershire. And many
years after by his gift they came at last to be safely
lodged in the public library at Oxford. Lastly, the same
author tells us, that some other of these collections, after
Cheke's death, came into the hands of William Lord
Paget and Sir William Cecil.
Now we are speaking of the King's library, it may notKeepets of
be amiss to note here, that the keeper of it was the jfj^^^^'"^ *
learned and ingenious Roger Ascham, preferred to it by
Cheke's means, with an honourable salary : and after him
Bartholomew Traheron, preferred afterwards in this reign
to be Dean of Chichester. For Ascham beuig now abroad,
as was shewed before, Cheke thought good he should resign
this place to some other that could daily attend; and recom-
mended the uaiA Traheron to Ascham, who shewed himself
witUng he should succeed him, whom, he stud, he loved
upon many accounts ; and that he should the more easily
88 THE LIFE OF
CHAP, suffer himself to be shut out of thiit library, [however
_ highly he esteemed the place,] for the sake of so worthy
Anno isss-a man to be let into it. This was in January 1550.
Chcke fulls It ^^^ been a very crazy time in England by reason of
dsngeromijF the sweating sickness that raged the last year, and by fe-
vers before and after that, whereby very many persons
were cut off, and some escaped very hardly, after that
they had been brought even to the gates of death : and as
Haddon, Cheke's dear friend, was one of these the last
year, so Cheke himself nnist have his turn this. Hia dis-
temper (under which he laboured in May) brought bim
exceeding low. The King and aU good men were extra-
ordinarily concerned for him, knowing how useful a man
the nation was in danger of losing; the King inquired of
the physicians every day how he did, who, not able to
conquer the malignancy of the distemper, at last told the
King the heavy news, that there was no hope of his life,
and that they had given hira over as a man for another
world. But the pious King had not only recommended
his schoolmaster to the care of his physicians, but also
to the heavenly Physician, whom in his devotions he ear-
nestly implored to spare his life; and upon his prayers
such a strange assurance was imprestied in his mind that
Cheke would recover, that when the doctors (as was said)
despaired of him, the King made this surprising reply to
them ; " No," said he, " Cheke will not die this time ; for
" tlus morning I begged his Ufe in my prayer, and ob-
Betovers. « tained it." And so it came to pass ; for towards the
latter end of the month of May he recovered. This was
attested (saith Fuller) by the old Earl of Huntingdon,
bred up with the King in his young years ; who told it
to Cheke's grandchild. Sir Thomas Cheke of Pyrgo, agtd
near eighty years, anno 1G5-1, who then, it seems, made i
relation of it to the said Fuller. His recovery was looked
upon as a public blessing, and all good men rejoiced at il.
Biibop Bid- Bishop Ridley, in a letter to the Secretary, speaking of
Li!»*r, iheir luni) added, "in whoBC recovery God be blessed." *'"
joj *i It, ijever, a very learned and pious preacher, wrote to A
€6
SIR JOHN CHEKE. 89
(of whom we have spoke before,) now at Villacho in Carin- sect.
thia, and in his letter prayed to God, that England might
be thankful for restoring such a man again to the King.-^"®^^^*'
^' And I am firmly persuaded," said he, " that God wist
" and would we should be thankful, and therefore be-
*^ stowed this gift upon us. He trusted,"' as he went on,
*^ that God's wrath was satisfied in punishing divers or-
^^ ders of the realm for their misorder, having taken away
*^ many singular ornaments from them, as learning by the
death of Bucer, counsel by Denny, nobility by the two
young Dukes [of Suffolk, who died very shortly after
one another of the sweating sickness,] courtship by gen-
^* tie Blage, St. John's college by good Eland ; but if
learning, counsel, nobility. Court, and Cambridge, should
have been all punished at once by taking away Mr,
*^ Cheke, then I should have thought our wickedness had
*^ been so great, as cried to God for a general plague, in
^^ depriving us of such a general and only man as he."
SECT. V.
Cheke at Cambridge. Departs thence to the King. Places
conferred on him.
I FIND him this year at Cambridge, gone thither, I sup-
pose, to enjoy his native and beloved air after his sickness ;
and taking perhaps the opportunity of the King's progress
this summer, to go to his residence upon his Provostship
in King's college. Now at a Commencement, (as we are cheke dis-
told,) Sir John Cheke did the University the honour tog^^**^*^
make himself a part in the learned exercises then per-ment,
formed; for when one Christopher Carlile, whose oflSce itoxon/p.
was to keep a divinity act, maintained the tenet of Christ's " ^•
local descent into hell, our learned man in disputation op-
posed him. This seems to have been done by consulta-
tion, and the argument resolved on, on purpose to meet
with the Popish doctrine of the limbus patrum; that is,
an apartment of hell, where, they say, the ancient patri-
archs and good men before Christ were detained, and
90 THE LIFE OF
CHAP, whither Christ- descended to deliver them tlience. For
^^' Carlile's question was, that our Saviour went into no
AoDo 1551. other hell but the very lowest, that is, that of the damned.
The ques- This disputation making some noise. Dr. Richard Smith,
puted. " sometime Professor of Divinity at Oxford, wrote a pre-
tended confutation of it; which was after printed, anno
1562, at Louvain, as it seems, where he now resided.
Places and Soon after the Commencement, Cheke seems to have
granted departed from Cambridge, and to have gone after the
^;r«.e King, then in progress in the south-west parts. And »
the King, his gracious master, had the last year honoured
him with knighthood; so he thought it fit now to add
some farther royal testimonies of his favour to him, and to
qualify him the better to bear that post: therefore this
summer he granted him certain places of honour, and
some of benefit too. First, he granted him a patent, bear-
ing date July 23, that one of his household servants, at aU
times, might shoot in the crossbow, hand-gun, hack-butt,
or demy-hack, at certain fowl and deer expressed in the
patent, notwithstanding the statute made to the contrary
in 33 Henry VIII. This was dated at the honour of Ptet-
worth in Sussex, the seat of Sir Anthony Brown, late
Master of the Horse, where the King now was in the way
Made of his progress. Again, August the 25th follo^ring, a par
u^fthe *'®"* ^''^^ granted him to be one of the Chamberlains of
Eicheqpier. the Exchequer, or of the Receipt of the King's Extheqiier,
which was once Sir Anthony Wyngfield's office, now dead;
and also to appoint the keeper of the door of the said Re-
ceipt, when his room should fall, and the appointing of all
other officers belonging to the same, pro termino vii€B.
This was dated at Sarum, where the King was now gotten*
Also, as a further token of his interest and favour with the
King, he obtained the wardship and marriage of llionias
Bamardiston, son and heir of Sir Thomas Bamardistoii,
Knight, in the counties of Bedford and Suffi)lk, and the
annuity of 30/. per ann. But his last and highest steps
were to be a Privy Counsellor, and Secretary of State* Of
which we shall hear more in the ensuing chapter.
SIR JOHN CHEKE.
[
CHAP. V.
From Sir John Cheke's highest advuricements to his exile;
and from thence to his surprise, impristmtnent, recanta-
tion, repentance, and death.
SECT. I.
C/iefce's highest advancements. A Privif Counsellor, Se-
cretary of State. Stands for tlie Lady Jane.
We come now to the thirty-ninth year, or thereabouts, Anno isss.
of Sir John Cheke's age, a year t]iat saw him advanced
very high, and soon after pulled down as low, stripped of
all his honour and ^yealth, and first made a prisoner, and
then an exile ; for as this yeac concluded the life of that
dear person his royal scholar, so with him of all his tem-
poral felicity.
He was now Clerk of the CouncU, and so he is entitled Ke ii ciuk
in one of the hooks of the Office of Heralds, under the^oQ^j
Chekes of Hampshire, And in May anno 1553, the King
bestowed on him and his heirs male, Clare in Suifolk, with
divers other lands, (as he had given him the manor of
Stoke juxta Clare a year or two ago,) to the yearly value
of 100/. But this clerkship was but in order to an higher
advancement, namely, to that of one of the principal Se-snii s»cre-
cretaries of State, which he was called to in June, andg'^te!
made a Privy Counsellor. For to me it seems that in
this juncture one of the Secretaries waa intended to be
l^d aside, and he perhaps was Cecil, who cared not to go
along with the purposes of the amhitious Duke of North-
umberland, to advance his daughter-in-law, married to
Guilford Dudley hie son, to the crown, and so to bring the
kingly dignity into his blood ; though the attempt proved
to his own and his children's niin, Cecil was now absent
from Court, sick in mind as well as in body. But Cheke's
zeal for religion made him willmg to side with Northum-
92 THE LIFE OF
CHAP, berland and his party, who put the sick King upon set-
tling the kingdom upon the Lady Jane, eldest daughter df
Addo 1558. Grey Duke of Suffolk, excluding the next legal heirs, his
two sisters. And it must be placed among the slips of the
loose pen of the author of the State Worthies, when he
writes that Cheke was against this will of King Edward,
and puts this sentence in his mouth thereupon, ^^ That he
^^ would never distrust God so far in the preservation of
^^ true religion, as to disinherit the orphans to keep up
*^ Protestantism/'
His indina- It swaycd him, while he foresaw what a persecution was
Grey. like to ensue, and what an overthrow of that reformed re-
ligion, that had been so carefully planted by good IQi^
Edward. For though some secular and ambitious ends
drove on the Duke in these lofty and dangerous projects,
yet the fears of the return of Popery, and miserable times
consequent thereupon, both to the nation and to the state
of true religion, were the arguments that prevailed with
Cheke to countenance that interest; and his inclination
perhaps to this party made the way for him to be Secre-
tary. To which office he was sworn and admitted June
the 2d, and the two other Secretaries were yet continued^
and an three Secretaries appeared in Council together.
And this appears from the Council Book. So that a cer-
sute Wor- tain observator, that tells the world that Cheke enjoyed
******* this place three years, imposes upon his readers, since in
truth he enjoyed it little above four weeks : to which we
may add the nine days of the Lady Jane Grey's reign.
Ascbam Now wc may look upon him employed in the public af-
^^^' fairs of state, and advanced into a high and hmiooraUe
high place station. On occasion of which, Ascham, being now at
^Md to.' Brussels * with Morison the King's Ambassadcnr^ b^^ged
Ep. in. 9. his pardon for detaining him with his letters, fbrgettiiig
the authority he had, and the momentous businesses with
Ep.in.ii. which he was now taken up. And in another letter con-
gratulated the high place he was advanced to; adding,
*^ that this was an honour long before due to his learnings
■ Augsburg.
SIR JOHN CHEKE. 93
^^ his prudence, and integrity, by the voice of all; and that sect.
^^ he did not so much congratulate him alone, as those to '
^^ whom, in his opinion, it was a greater commendation of A^*"^** ^^^*-
^^ their prudence in choosing him, than a part of his hap-
^^ piness in ascending to this promotion. He congratulated
^^ therefore," he said, ^^ the whole British name, and first,
^^ and chiefly indeed, the Prince ; that as his childhood en-
^^ joyed Cheke, a most excellent preceptor, so his youth, .
^^ and hereafter his elder age, should make use of him as a
^^ most prudent and faithful Counsellor for many long
^^ years to come ;" [but alas ! that could not be, the good
King was dead just a day before Ascham wrote this letter.]
He proceeded i ^^ I extremely congratulate our civil state
^^ our land, and our Christian state ; the safety of all which
^^ three was always so dear to you, that the single tran-
^^ quillity of each man, the desired name of studies, the
^^ quiet of purer religion must henceforth abide in your
^^ authority alone, in your excellent learning, and in your
^^ ardent love of God. I heartily congratulate Cambridge,
" which brought you forth ; but above all, St. John's col-
^^ lege, which taught you : of the one you were a native,
^^ of the other a most flourishing scholar; both see you
^^ now their best and ablest patron." But alas ! all these
congratulations, which came to Cheke's hands not many
days after his master the King's death, were to him but
like the joy of Jephthah's daughter to Jephthah, when^he
came out to him with her timbrels and dances, congratu-
lating his victory; it was but a trouble and unspeakable
grief to him to hear and see it.
King Edward being dead, and the Lady Jane set up and ci^'eke as
proclaimed Queen, letters at this time were sent from the writes let-
Council to the ffentry, and other state letters were written**" toriht
" ^ , Council.
by Cheke as Secretary. He checked his brother Cecil,
who would not be induced to meddle in this matter, but
endeavoured to be absent ; and to the very utmost day of
Queen Jane's reign, viz. to July the 19th, he acted as Se-
cretary to her and her Council. On which day, upan in-
formation from the Lord Rich, Lord Lieutenant of the
94 THE LIFE OF
CHAP, ooanty of Eraez, that the Eail of Osfond (who lived in
^' that ooanty,} had gone orer to the La^ Skhry, a letter
m^mgoed bjr the Lords of Qneen Jane's Council, attiiq; in
the Tower, to excite that Lord to stand finn, was dnnm
1^ by Cheke's own pen, and by him ^ned with the rest:
which letter he thus worded; ^ reqoiring Urn like a ndbk
^ man to renuun in that promise and stedbustness to our
^ sovereign Lady Queen Jane, as ye shall find ns ready
^ and firm with all our force to maintain the same : whiA
^ neither with honour, nor with safety, nor yet with duty,
^ we may now forsake."
SECT. n.
Cammitiedf indicted, pardoned. Travels abroad. So-
journs at Strasburg.
Cbcke com- IT was but the next day that the Lords that signed
tbcTovcr. this letter turned about, proclaimed Mary Queen, and
wrote their letters to her, owning her their Sovereign;
and thus was poor Sir John Cheke left in the lurch, (for
he could not do as they did,) and on a sudden thrown
down from his worldly greatness, which indeed he never
Fox't Aas. affected; and within eight or nine days after, vi%. July the
28th, U^ether with the Duke of Sufiblk, oonunitted to the
Tower as a traitor. And whereas the rest that acted as
Queen Jane's Counsellors, being either P^nsts or indif-^
ferent in religion, were easily pardoned, Cheke and some
few others « (as the Archbishop of Canterbury and the
Lord Russel) were sent to the Tower, or kept under
Indicted, harder and longer restraint. An indictment was drawn
against him the 12th or 13th day of August; and his
Cnuimer't friends feared it woiild go hard with him. Archluahop
^^ax^ Cranmer, who valued him highly for his learning and
Epiit. MS. goodness, privately sent to Cecil to know ^^ whereupon
'^ he was indicted ; and signifying withal, that he had
^ great cause to hope that he should be one of them that
^ should feel the Queen's pardon, as one who had been
^' none of the great doers in this matter against her, [as
SIR JOHN CHEKE.
95
" was Northumberland, and those that were actually in sect.
" arms;] and that his trust waa not yet gone, except it.
" were for his earnestness in religion. For which," aaid'^"'""^**'
the good Archbishop, " if he suffer, blessed is he of God,
" that suffereth for his sake, however the world judge of
" him :" adding, out of hia dear respect for him, and his
usefulness to be continued in the Tvorld, "Alas! if any
" means could be made for him and my Lord Russel, it
" were not to be omitted, nor in any wise to be neg-
" lected."
Sir John, (together with some others,) the next year, Psrdocea.
being almost spoiled of all his substance, obtained the (&- J^ ''™"»*'i
vour of the Queen's pardon. But being not able to satisfy abroad.
his conscience in the religion that waa setting up, and
foreseeing the evil times that were drawing on, obtained a
licence from the tiueen for some time to travel into foreign
parts; but intending a voluntary exile, with many other
noble and reverend personages, who fled their own coun-
try upon this change, and sojourned in divers places in
Germany and Switzerland, or elsewhere, where they might
enjoy their religion with safety. Such were Sir Anthony
C^oke, Sir Thomas Wroth, Mr. Knolles, Mr. Hales, the
Duchess of Suffolk and her husband Mr, Bcrtue, Mr. Ro-
gers, and many of t!ie best and eminentest sort of divines,
as Barlow, Scory, Bale, and Ponet, Bishops ; Cox, Grindal,
Home, Parkhurst, Jewel, Sandys, Pilkington, Nowell,
Whittingham, Fox, Lever, and many more. And some
took this opportunity to travel into Italy, and to see the
countries : and of these were Sir Anthony Cooke, and our
Sir John Cheke, who passed into Italy through Basil ;Ci
■where staying some time, (for there were divers Eitghah
Protestants here,) he came acquainted with Cteliua Secun-
dus Curio, a learned man, father-in-law to Hieronymus
Zanchius. With this man he happened in their learned
conferences to discourse of the pronunciation of the Greek
tongue, and communicated to him at length the letters of
that argument that passed between himself and the Bi-
shop of Winchester, But because Cielius coidd not read
96 THE LIFE OF
CHAP, them over suddenly, Cheke, at his request, left them ^rith
' him, till he should call for them again, and so pursued Us
Anno 1554. journey into Italy.
ReadsGreek And being come to Padua, where was a famed Umver-
»t Pftdua. gj^^ j^^ met^with Dr. Thomas Wylson, sometime FeDow
of King's college in Cambridge, (afterwards S^retaryof
State to Queen Elizabeth,) and other English youth also,
students there. To whom Cheke in an obliging way ad-
dressed, and exhorted them to follow their books, and cC-
rected them in their studies ; and for the time he stayed
there, read to Wylson and others certain orations of De-
mosthenes out of the Greek; the interpretation whereof
they had from his mouth. And Wylson made his use of
this afterwards, when being in England, aiid preferred for
his learning to be Master of St. Katharine's near the
Wylson sets Tower, he looked among his writings for Cheke's transla-
moftiienes* ^^^ ^^ thosc oratious ; and some he found, though not all,
Orations in which he tumcd out of his Latin into proper English, and
from printed anno 1570, viz, three Orations in &vour of the
^J^'-' Olynthians, and four against King Philip of Macedon j de-
dicating the book to Sir William Cecil, Cheke's brother-
in-law and most dear friend; taking occasion there to
speak largely of the great skill and learning of the siud
Sir John Cheke.
Settles at When he returned from Italy, he cared not to go into
strasburg. England, observing how rigorously tMngs went there, and
what a dark and dismal cloud hung over his own country,
but chose rather to settle himself at Strasburg^ where the
English service was kept up, and a great many of his
learned and pious friends resided. This was taken hold of
at home, and his back-friends aggravated matters against
him ; of whom his old antagonist Bishop Gardiner, now
Lord Chancellor, may be reckoned none of the least. He
had been chief instructor of King ELdward, in hia princi-
ples of religion, to which he stuck so fast : he was one of
the great stays of evangelical doctrine, and had complete
learning to maintain it against the gunsayers : and there-
fore, whatsoever his innocence and merits otherwise were,
SIR JOHN CHEKE.
07
it waa concluded by these Popish politicians, thiit he was sect.
to be dealt severely withal. And thia advantage in DOt '__
coming home at the expiration of his travel was to be'^"'""**
taken against him.
So first Cheke'a demeans, lands, and estate were con- iris estau
fiscated to the Queen's use, whatsoever was left him. Nor'^'*'
would this suffice, till by an inhuman piece of craft, and
insidious way-laying, they got his person too, as we shall
bear in the process of our story,
SECT. Hi.
Some letters nf his printed. Writes to Cecil. His condi-
tion become mean. Reads a Greek lecture at Stras-
hurg. Taken prisoner, and brought to Eiigland.
IT was shewed before ho\V our learned exile had left his Annn i^s
papers concerning the true pi-onouncing of Greek, at Basil, gbflut^pit^
in Curio's hands ; who, after he had them a year or better, "oancing
and by perusing them understood the excellent learning prinud at
^d use of them, put them into the press without the au-^**^"''
l^tB-'s knowledge, setting only his own dedication before
the book to Sir Anthony Cooke ; wherein he prayed him,
that in case Sir John Cheke should take amiss what he
kad done, that Sir Anthony would appease him ; consider-
ing that he thought he might take the boldness to do that,
which would neither be injurious to Cheke's name, and
would serve so much to the profit of others. The book
nras printed at Basil in octavo, bearing this title, Joannia
Cheki jingli de PronuntiaHone Gr*ec<e potissimum Lin-
gKtE, Disputationes cum Stephano WintonienH JSpiscopo,
aeptem contrariis Epistolis compreKensce, magna guadaru
et elegantia et eruditione refertcB. In these elegant, co-
pious, and learned epistles, both the Bishop and Cheke
■hewed so great learning, parts, and reading, that they
seemed not epistles, but rather the antagonistical orations
of the best orators, as the publisher wrote. And it was a
token of the constancy and presence of Cheke's mind, in a
good cause, and a cause of truth, that he was not ahraid of
L
98 THE LIFE OF
CHAP, the power of ao great a man as he conteaded with, and^
much then above him: nor would forsake the cause he
Anno isss. had undertaken, but atedfaatly persisted in it; having this
in his thought, that nothing is stronger than IriUfi.
Cheke nt J" this year 1555 he was at Straaburg, among the rest
stiMbnrg. of ti,e godly exiles there, where he enjoyed indeed his
liberty and his religion; but his lands and livings were
seized, and the stock he brought out of England in efifect
spent; so that now was the time come for him to exer-
cise his philosophy an<l religion, to uphold him under such
» change of fortune : but this mean condition he willingly
chose, rather than to swim in his former plenty and gran-
deur; which undoubtedly had been restored him, if he
would have returned into England, and renounced his for-
writcs to mer good principles. In this juncture he wrote a letter to
Cecil. sjj \yiiiiam Cecil, advising him most piously to etedfiist-
ness in religion, knowing how sharp the persecution now
grew, and what severity was commonly exercised to all
that would not go to mass, and believe tr an substantiation.
But Cecil had the favour and connivance of Cardinal Pole,
and other great friends, that he made a shift to rub out
the reign, and was reserved for better times.
Cheke tick. And in this year of his exile he fell into an ill state of
body, and was oppressed with a fit of sickness : for which
cause he excused his omission of writing to his frieads in
England. He and the rest of the good men abroad, in
their pilgrimage for the sake of religion, had often made
their inquiries after the state of affairs in their own coun-
Fieuedwith try, and particularly concerning religion. In a Parliament
CMir^'ta"^ ^'^'^ year, Sir WilliaDQ Cecil, however Popery now carried
hsviour in all before it, had the courage to speak boldly in the Pw-
r lauien . jj^jng^t House against some abuses and uitrusions of the
Pope upon the ancient liberties of this imperial crown and
kingdom ; whereby the said Cecil did not a little endanger
his own peace and safety. The fame of which speech, M
it made a great noise in the realm, so coming abroad as
far as Cheke, created in him a satts^tion : and when he
first heard that Cecil was a member of that Parliament, be
SIR JOHN CHEKK. 99
was glad, expecting some service to be done by liim there; sect.
BuppoHJng, as he told hU friends, that such fruits of ho- "^'
nesty were left in him, as would and should sen'e for the Anno isss,
good of the commonwealth. And his expectation, as he
said, was not deceived in him, being glad to hear tell of his
well-doing, to his priuac, and others' profit.
He had a great eye upon this man, remaining still in chetc'i
England, whom he seemed to foresee like to prove after- ^™^"""
ward one by whom great things would be brought to pass,
being also his brother-in-law, and sometime his pupil;
who made a shift, by a wary behaviour and some great
friends, (as was shewed before,) to continue these hard
times in the realm. Cheke heard now and then of him;
and was sorry sometimes on his account, lest he should go
too far in straining of his conscience to secure his peace.
And therefore in the latter end of this year, he took upon
him to be his monitor, and by an excellent letter to him
to remind him, " ^ that he had much to do in this brittle His
tob
' Thii letter of Cheke's lo Cecil, transcribed fmin the original, Piactlyword
fill word, (according to his way of reforming the spelling uf English,] wu u
fblloweth:
If I reraved t. letter from yon, & mud noo unswear to the saim, ye thinh
perftdrenture I wold mach lesse hsv written unto you unprovoaked, I wnld
heerin eicos miMlf, if my staat of hellh weer or hav been unknown unto mi
frende; bat bicBus it is known unto them, u I direnlie do perceive, I prelum
it nut unknown unio you, and therfoar think mi leltres do not maak mi eicm,
but coafirm them mud.
I was vene glsd to beer of your being In the pari. b. Bupposiug to be left in
you luch fruits of honejtee M wold and shold lerv for the C. W. [commoa-
wealth.] Mi looking ms not utierlie decelFed in yoo, nnd was and am ta glad
to he«r tell of yoar vel doing, to your pniis and others profit ; as I am soric
many tyma, when I heer the contrarie.
Yon hBT much adoe in this britjl staat of lyf, as everie good examiner of bis
lyf hath, to content God quietlie. Si to satisQe an unhardened conicience,
-wherin hlcanse you be wys iooagb your self,. & habil to gir others counsil in
(Uch a QU, I need not sai much nnto you. On thing 1 wold wish whatsoever
multitud of men, the dazed lel of the ignorant, the comuiun nllowant in order
doth appror, deeeiv not your «lf in judgment : whatioeTer ye know to be evil
indeed, m judg it, & taak it a]w«a, and let nother your own doings whatso-
eier, nor comniun u»dg, nor faTour of anil fre?ndiliip carrie yon away U de-
eeiv your self in error, that yee may avoid the extreem curs of the Prophet that
crieth again them that cal gud had, & bad gud. For thooi nbo of fnultle do
THE LIFE OV
" state of life, as every good examiner of his life had,fi
" content God quietly, and to satisfy an unhardened c
Anno 1555." science. Wherein, because he was wise enough himself,
iniiB9, & rejoisf io their tvel u gud, hot asknowledg bi fautins tbrei week-
nu, bar so mucb tbe peeler degree to amend meal, tlist thear own koawlwlg
praieth od tbem to amend; rebiihetb invard thear dniugj, & strivMb again
men, Ihat tolJeri [publiciuis] tt barloU whoot fautes aotber wtu nor cuald be
unknown to them, >bold enter into tbe kingdum of Leaveo, btfforv the Pfain-
■ees, wlmat liertj were w blinilcd, tbat seeing & beering tbey nought uh nor
Yce know in pbilosopbie wbat diflVrence is between infU [ini
and ixai.icr'.a [pelulaatia,'] and vbit the wys pbilosophen hnv disputed af lb*
tnmparlson of thoos vices, & what a man in liii swn Ijtf maj jmjg« of iImb.
I hail rather for my part hate you corrupted in the lower part of your mind,
then beer of yon tbat twth your parts weer utterly rotted away from lliat
■oundnes ttiat common opinion of juit causes bath had of you. So long u a
man liath sparks left in himself, he may be asiarrd, ns in a fire ttcI nlied af.
to liRbt a candle or make a fyr in a coorenient tym. If becsuK IhJugi U
lunally don in olbtn commonly, or ela of a tew, or of yourself, they ihold Ix
taaken to be gu<), it should follow tbnt either use shold make gud & bad, & not
Gods commandment, or ets mens judgments shold caute gudnes or bailnes ia
things, & not Scripture. But you think not, I dare say, tbat becaiut tfainp
be doD theerfoar they be gud ; but rather bicauie they be gud, thenfan ttity
shold be don. PUto saith wel, tbat bi plesure and grief gud may be judged
from evel. Not tbat whosoerer followetb plesure, be ii gud, but bicBuie *hs-
•oeier apptieth to delight in gild things and to be grieTed with eTel, he u foJ
& honest. That plesure rulei! ti aetuoiied might shew gudneas) unmled ft
w&ndrint; might declaar the erel. Even lo (be opinion in judgment, ai Ibt
other in choise, tfl be no nile, but ruled. And then a man to be judged hi
Ilia opinion wjs, when be j;eeldeth in agreement to truth, & his ditagmBrDl
to fabbood. And so not to judg simplle by liking, but bi liking truly. Wbnia
in manirs reaioiiing staadcth tbe whole doubt, what should be tbonghl truth-
science cannot he removed nor altered, which hath hud not onel j a fair tben ol
liklihood, but also n necessary cans of assent, & t Ihinh verily, yee doubt lul,
having given to you of God as much understanding as hath been nut mlj
needful for judgment, but alto praisable for lyf.
Thus much I have said for tliis end, that yee do not, 13 diien others n*f}
whecr do, wbalHKver they do either in priiat malten. or common cauiH. M
allow it, when they hare don it, & to lUod to the saam aa gut and laata.
And theerfnar either convenient Id be don or sulferablc. Te uk me, wtel bJ
DO great e«
In writing. And theerfoai
thu< much gud, that if the
IS long ?
oingsi and you know Ihat mi wit i* itrtit
ut my paper u ye see. I mean my Inradt
Tupl theer own doings, as I caa ny rnilUt)
SIR JOHN CHEKE. 101
" and able to give others counsel in such a cause, he sect.
' needed not say much unto him. One thing he wished, _
" that whatsoever the multitude, the dazzled zeal of the aqqo
" ignorant, and the commou allowance in the order of reli-
" gion approved, that he deceived not himself in judg-
" ment : that whatsoever he knew to be evil indeed, so
" to judge and take it always ; and that neither his own
" doings whatsoever, nor common usage, nor favour, or
" any friendship, carried hi"" away to deceive himself in
** error; that so he might avoid the extreme curse of the
" Prophet, that cried against them that called good evil,
"and evil good. That as for those that of mere frailty
" did amlsa, and rejoiced not in their evil as good, hut ac-
" knowledged their weakness, they came up bo much the
" more to amendment, aa thor own knowledge -called al-
of joiira; fGtwbcre 1 fear tlist I knew, 1 wu tb&raldmg that I ffat; if they
wold keep theer judgmenta louad, Sc not bo Idt theer ovn doings, that Itiej
ivil mak« theu the lu] of theer judgment. But of tb'u eaougb.
Ye intpudi^il in K. Edwardi lime two things. Tbe one an order of the po-
licie & offiien of the realm, their order and duties. Aoothet, the aettjng forlll
of Bmcton, the Lnwicr, tbst be might be seen & rend of al men. Tben ye
Itoktd iriaur, 8c in mqcli businu ye eougbt to add tbat labour. Now ye have
more leiKur, ye thold not hare lea will- Seek to pro6t with your Iclsur your
native countree not only of fuminhmeot but of idftie. Let jour wis-
dom appeer in JFiinr, as your taoneitie [in bueines.] I wold be glad to se
yet bir tbe forwfmluFss of some common gud.
J am leartiiDj; how to lir, & imagining by wbst oixupatioo I shal be abJe
to feed myself. For if wben licenced to go, be shut out when they be gOD, &
cannot tarrie without dispksur, whither they were licenced nith favour, nor re-
turn iritbont danger whither tbey be by extremity called, what is tbear left,
hot in thii old ending of lyf, to begin a new living, 4 learn at length bow to
(onie way, while death end lyf & liring. And bioaus necessity maaheth it de-
cayeth to content himself with present staat flS«red, aud bicaus be feeleth no
batter to judg it verie god.
But I niuit leav, mi paper biddetb uie to. And thu> I commend to yon It
to my ladie, and you boath to God; wishing you that stedfastnes of truth, &
that choia of doing wel, that I do desyr of God for myself. Fare ye wel, 8l
bring up your son in the true fear of God. From Slrousborough, the 18 of
J>b.T5SG.
Tour asiurrd br
JOAN. CHEEK.
102 THE LIFE OF
, " ways on them to amend, and rebuked inwardly their do-
_" ings, and strove agidnst wilfulness of affection. And
5-" that therefore Christ siud well of the different sort of
" sinnera, that tollers and harlots {whose fault neither
" was nor could he unknown to them) should otter into
" the kingdom of heaven before the Pharisees ; whose
" hearts were so blinded, that seeing and hearing, they
" neither saw nor heard. That he knew in phlloeopby
" what difference was between ixpcuriix [i. e, irilempe-
" ranee] and axoAoirta, [as one would say, custom and
" wilfulness in that vice,] and what the wise philosophers
" have disputed of those vices, and what a man in his own
" life may judge of them. That for his part, he had ra-
" ther to have him corrupted in the lower part of his
" mind, than hear of him, that both his parts were utterly
" rotted away from that soundness which common opin-
" ion for just causes had of him. So long," added he, " a*
" a man hath sparks left in himself, be may be assured, as
'' in a fire raked up, to light a caudle, or make a fire in t
" convenient time."
He went on ; " If because things be usually done, nths
" commonly, or elae of a few, or of yourself, they should
" be taken to be good ; it should follow, that either use
" should make good and bad, and not God's commond-
" ments, or else men's judgments should cause goodness
" and badness in things, and not Scripture : but he dared
" to say, that Cecil thought not, that because things were
" done, therefore they were good ; but rather, because they
" were good, therefore they should be done. He alleged
" Plato, who said, that ' by pleasure and grief good men
" were judged from evil.' Not, that whosoever foUownl
" pleasure, he was good; but because whosoever ^plied
" to delight in good things, and to be grieved with evil,
" he was good and honest. That pleasure ruled and se*-
" soned, might shew goodness ; unruled and wandering,
" might declare the evil. That even so was opinion in
" judgment, as the other in choice, to be no rule, hut
" ruled. And then a man was to be judged by his opinion
SIR JOHN CHEKE.
103
" wise, when he yielded agreement to trutli, and his dia- SECT.
" agreement to falsehood, and so, not to judge simply hy
" liking, but by liking truly. Anno 155s.
" That he [via. Cecil, to whom he was writing]
" doubted not, nor had doubted, what should be thought
" truth; and therefore advised him not to doubt of it now,
" if science could not be removed nor altered; which had
" not only a fair shew of likelihood in It, but also a ne-
" cessary cause of assent. That he thought verily, he
" [Cecil] doubted not; so much understanding having been
" given him of God, as had been not only needful for judg-
*' ment, but always praisable for life. That he had said
*' thus much for tliis end, that he did not as divers others
"every where did; that whatsoever they did in private
" matters or common causes, to allow it when they had
" done it, and to stand to the defence of the same as good
" and lawfiil : and therefore convenient to be done or suf-
" ferable." Thus bravely and wis€ly did this Christian
philosopher argue.
But it was not Cheke's meaning in all this, to charge
this his &iend with absolute guilt of some sinful compli-
ance against his conscience : for he excused himself from
being so understood ; " since he waa no great examiner of
" other men's doings ; and that his -wit was flerixw in writ-
" ing ; and therefore, that he spent out his paper in that
" manner as he did. And that he meant his friends so
' " much good, that if they would corrupt their own doings,
" (as he could say nothing of this liia friend,) that where
,*' he feared that he knew, he wished the avoiding of that
1" he feared. Yet that they would keep their judgments
-" sound; and not so to love their own doings, that they
" should make them the rule of their judgment."
Cheke took this opportunity to put on Cecil to be bene- Moves ce-
• £cial to his country, by despatching certain useful things j';,,,*"^^;^
■ for the view of the public, that he had formerly in his boots.
' 'mind to do, but wanted that leisure which now he had.
. And they were the setting forth an Order of the Policy
': and Oncers 0/ Me itea/wt, theb: order and duties ; and the
CHAP, publishing of Bractoii the Lawyer, that then was but in
_ MS. that he might be seen and read of all men. And to
bis tic k-
Anno 1556. gxcite him to this, Cheke used such words as these to
him : " that in King Edward's time in much business, he
" desired to take that labour upon him ; and that now
" he had more leisure, he should not have less will: that he
" should seek to profit "with his leisure his native country,
" which had not only [need] of fumishment, but of safety:
" that his wisdom would appear in leisure, ae his honestf
" had done in business : that he [Cheke] would be glad to
" see some fruit made of an evil time, if not for the reme-
" dying of an overgrown evil, yet for the forwarding <ff
" some common good." But as this advice shewed Cheke 'a
generous principle towards the promoting of the public
good, so probably the reason tlie other thought not cou«c-
nient to do this now, was to avoid the hazard of this tick-
lish time, and to keep himself as private and as unti
notice of as possible.
Anno isr>8. This good Knight began now to be reduced to i
^^"f^"_ circumstances; insomuch, that he was put upon devisinf
stBDtei. ways to live in this his exile condition, and imagining by
what occupation he should be able to feed himself. H«
complained, " that he was licensed indeed to go abroad,
" but he was in effect shut out, when he was gone ; and
" that yet he could not tarry where he was without dia-
" pleasure, nor return without danger, where he had been
" by extremity called. So that now," he swd, " nothii^was
" left for this old ending of life, but to begin a new living;
" and learn at length how to live some way, while death
" ended both his life and living." And this he seemed
rfieerfully to submit to ; " because," as he said, *' occes*
" sity made it desirable, and desire made it ungrievous ;
" and did daily learn us hope of better, and to content a
" man's self with the present state offered; and becaaae
" he felt no better, to judge it very good." Thus long dU
he play the part of a steady Christian, if he could bttt
Itndi ft have persisted, ^en the greatest shock of all cnaw.
^^ '"^ Some tell us he read a Greek lecture now at Strasbarg :
SIR JOHN CHEKK. 106
which might be the way he took for a present eubeist- sec
It was not long after this, the poor gentleman met with '^""" 's^^-
;faarder Bufferings ; and the sadder share by far of his afflic- ^i;* pe™""
tiona is behind. His enemies are resolved to have himbrougbt
one way or other, and to bring him into England, there toP""^^
yput him to death or to shame. In the country where he
thought himself secure, even there he was caught in the
liigh way, together with Sir Peter Carew, {who had been
in Wyat's business,) and both brought prisoners to Eng-
land after a strange and barbarous manner, which we shall
relate by and by. The reason that was pretended for this And whj,
aiaage was, that he having obtained leave to travel, and
^censed thereupon to go out of the realm, had trans-
gressed in not returning again, but abiding abroad without
leave, and settling himself out of the Queen's dominions :
though his being a Gospeller was the chief, if not the only
true cause, as indeed was told hira, when he was a pri-
soner in England.
We are now therefore drawing near to the most deplor- Cheke mn-
able conclusion of this gentleman's life : to which his toojst^i^^
.much confidence in that uncertain art of astrology contri-e"'' *"
.buted in part. For together with his knowledge in other
sciences, he was not unskilful in astrology. And doubtful
of his own safety in an intended journey to Brussels, he
consulted with this art, to know whether he might go
without danger. And according to the satisfaction he ga-
thered thence to himself, being about the spring of the
year 1556, he went, (being now in the Low Countries,
come thither to fetch his wife.) His gouig to the said town
of Brussels was occasioned by an earnest invitation given
him by the Lord Paget and Sir John Mason, two of his
former learned acquaintance, but who had complied with
Queen Mary's religion, and were come in great honour
and reputation with her, and now arrived in those parts ;
the former in a more private capacity to use the baths, the
liitter in quality of her Ambassador at the Court of JJrus-
. sels. These had made the motion to Sir John Cheke to
L
106 THE LIFE OP
CHAP, take that opportunity to come and see them; aod far hk
_ better security. Mason had assured Mm of safe-conduct
AuDDisse.thither in King Philip's and hia own name. He weal
with Sir Peter Carew in his company, and enjoj'etl his
Mends, Paget and Mason, (if they might now be called
\a& friends, and not his betrayers;} whom after be bad at-
tended towards the sea, as be was coming back, he fell
into a fatal snare between Brussels and Antwerp : for in-
telligence and order having been sent from Kiiig Philip,
Seized in Jig being there waylaid, was on a sudden, May 15, seized
the ProvMt on by the Provost Marshal, with his fellow-traveller, un-
Mirebd. horsed, bUndfolded, bound, and thrown into a waggon,
and BO conveyed on shipboard, and brought over sea unto
the Tower of London, " Being taken as it were with
" whirlwind," (as he was taught to word it in hia recanta-
tion,) " from the place he was in, and brought over sea,
" and never knew whither he went, till he found himself
" in the Tower of London." And this chiefly out of cha-
rity to his soul, as he was told at his examination, " out
^^ " of compassion," forsooth, " to his soul, to bring him
^ . " from hia false religion," An excellent way, no questioa,
to do it. Thus are the foulest actions of princes coloured
over by their favourites with the most specious pretence*,
and their malice goes for reli^on and charity.
The Kizing Seldom hath such an act been heard of, or read in hift-
ioruew?»t '"T> '"''^SB perhaps the seizuig of Dr. Story in the ye«
psmiid. 1569 may have some resemblance of it; who was sur-
prised also in Flanders, and brought to the Tower by a
wile. But Story had been a most bloody persecutor of
religion under Queen Mary, and ever an implacable enemy
to Queen Eli?Jkbeth. This man Bed abroad to Antwerp
under this Queen, and was much favoured by the Span-
iards, the Queen's enemies, and appointed by the Duke
d'Alva searcher of all ships that came thither, for English
goo<ls and heretical hooks: by which means he still con-
tinued his former practice of persecution. One l*arkcr,
master of a small vessel, employed by certain person^ 01^1
which Secretary Cecil, brother to Cheke, was thouf^it'^^l
SIR JOHN CHEKE.
be privy,) arriving at Antwerp, repaired to Story, and in-
fonned him of a little ship come from England. Where- _
upon, in pursuance of his office, he presently went aboard, '^
and according to his wont searched about, and then going
down into the hatches, they in the ship presently clapped
them down, and the wind proving favourable, brought him
away, and lodged him safely in the Tower. And in the
year 1571, being found guilty of treason, he was executed.
Whether this were to make some atonement for the trea-
cherous apprehension of Cheke, I leave others to conjec-
ture.
But sure it is, that Cheke upon this seizure was appre- hls friendi'
bended by his friends to be in great danger. And bo Bale'^^f™
about tliis time, that he fell in the hands of tliose wbojau.
always hated him ; and subjoins this prayer, " The Lord '''
** direct his heart into the love of Cod, and the patience
" of Christ, and let him be delivered from absurd and
*' wicked men."
SECT. IV.
?bo credulous to astrology, Betraifed. Complies. Sub-
scribes, Recants,
HERE then we leave Sir John Cheke a disconsolate chcte de-
prisoner in the Tower, now the second time under Queen ^^io~
Mary, to repent his credulity to the words and promises
of Romanists, and his too much confidence in astrology,
■whereby he is imposed upon to his destruction. He went
safe indeed to Brussels, but was far from returning safe
back again. This art of conjecturing at or foreknowing Astroiogj
things and events by the position of the stars, was about j|"j i^'
these times exceedingly studied by both nobility and gen-theie d«ji.
try; insomuch, that Or. liawrence Humfrey, (who lived
in these days, and was afterwards a learned Professor of
Divinity at Oxford,) in a book which he wrote for the use oe Nobiui.
and instniction of the gentry, exhorting them to the study ''J."'' P-
of divers sciences, observed how this science, above the
V
108 THE UFE OF
CHAP, rest, was '"^so eiiatched at, no beloved, and even devoured
^' " by moat persoDS of honour aod worship," that they
Anno I sse. needed no enticements to this, but a bridle rather; not a
trumpeter to set them on, but a reprover to take tbeni off
from their heat. And that many had so trusted to this,
that they almost distrusted God, and partook of such
events aa proved unhappy, not in truth foretold by the
stars, nor expected by themselves : yet as he would not
wholly condemn the art, bo should not the nobility have
him a persuader nor an applauder of it; for that there
were enow of them edready. So he. But return we to
Cheke's misfortunes.
Cheiw b«- There was a person then living, and be of considerable
his friends, quality and knowledge of the intrigues of those tiuies, that
makes this to have been a base laid plot of the Lord Paget
and Sir John Mason, great acquaintance and friends uf
Cheke and Carew under King Edward, but now under
Queen Mary strong Papists, Thougli 1 will not charge
the memory of these two great men with so treacherous
Ponct'i an act, yet I will relate it as I find it. " By Mason's
p™[k' " " worldng," saith my author, " and Paget "« devising. Sir
Power. " Peter Carew went into Flanders, (who was before id
" France,) Mason pledgbig for his safeguard King Philip's
" fidelity and hia own honesty. Afterwards be and Sir
" John Cheke, being enticed both to come to Brussels to
" see the Queen's Ambassadors, and having brought Paget
" on the way toward England, both in their return were
" taken by the Provost Marshal, spoiled of their horses,
" and clapped into a cart, their legs, arms, and bodies tied
" with halters to the body of the cart, and so earned to
" the seaside, and from thence into the Tower of London.
" And before Paget came to Calais, Sir Peter's man cocd-
" ing out of EnglanJ raeeteth him, and asketh for his
" master; Paget smiletb, and said nothing, but that his
" roaster was in health. But how cometh this to pass?
" Mark well; the Queen thought Paget a meet man for
" her in all things, seeing that without cause she sus-
* Sic nfi, lic aduuitri, et JeTOcari ■ pleritque notnlibiH.
SIR JOHN CHEKE.
109'
" pected his religion. And at his ii coming over she like a sec
" woman uttereth to him what she thought of him, and
" promiseth, if she may perceive his heart and mouth to Ann"
" agree together, she would set him aloft. He asaureth
** her, that whatsoever she ehoiild will him should be
" done ; yea, he would do more than she should require
" him." And a little after, *' coming over he bruited,
" that he liked not the state in Enj^land, (for he is one of
" them that hangeth now on prophecies, but of a wrong
" thing,) and therefore would be out of the way in tiie
" height of the mad month of May, [when insurrections
** frequently used to be in the city of Ix)ndon,] and pre-
" tendeth to come to the bains to ' Aeon ; but indeed the
** intent was to see if he could practise with some of the
" Duke of Clcvea's men, to betray the poor Duchess of
" Suilblk, {who was fled abroad for her religion,) and Bome
■ of the English congregation at Wesel ; that he, to per-
" form his promise, might send them to the Queen. But
** when he saw his purpose failed, {God had better pro-
" vided for the Duchess, to keep her from traitor's hands,)
" he cometh not to the bains, he needeth them not at that
" time. But then he caused Carew and Cheke, whom
•* Mason had prepared ready to serve his turn, to be taken
" and carried away, as before ye have heard. And at his
" return had great thanks, and the Queen's favour in-
** creased towards him." Thus that relator. And sure
enough there was some truth in this matter, if you lay to
this what Mr, John Fox relates, namely, that Sir William Pol's j
Paget was set craftily to catch Mr. Bertie and the DuchesB*"^gg;
of Suffolk, newly come to Wesel : of which, {when they
thought themselves happily settled there,) a watchword
came from Sir John Mason, the Queen's Ambassador in
the Netherlands, that my Lord Paget had feigned an er-
rand to the baths that way : and whereas the Duke of
Brunswick was shortly with ten ensigns to pass to Wesel,
for service of the House of Austria against the French
Kng, the s^d Duchess and her husband should be with
* turning Pipiit. ■ Ai».
110 THE LIFE OF
CHAP, the same charge and company intercepted. To prevent
_ which, Mr. Bertie and Ms Duchess fled away hastily from
AuDoiasG.^ggel^ and came to Wineheim in High Dutchland; and
in April 1 557 they hastened to Poland.
cheke'tpre- But howsoever it was, Cheke being now fast, fomid
itsio''*"' t^^^^ ^'^ "f W'^y f*"" ^"™) but either to forsake those doc-
trines, which he had upon the best and strongest grauDds
embraced himself, and recommended to others, or else to
be put to a cruel death as an heretic.
Cbeke's For when he was first examined, he understood it wta
nlieioD " *b^ matter of religion that was the great quarrel against
him. Confused indeed he was at first to be so used ; and
seeing it was for his religion he suffered this, he very re-
solutely chose in his own mind to die any death, rather
than to renounce it. Soon after, two of the Queen's Chap-
lains came to the Tower to confer with him, to trj' to
change him, pretending much good-will and charity to
him. Whereupon he received them with the like civility,
and communicated to them his doubts that hindered bis
compliance with the corporeal presence, and other Popish
doctrines; and desired to be better informed by them.
But Cheke's doubts were too hard for thein to solve, and
their endeavours gave him little or no satisfaction; nor
could they move him any thing, and so left him, as givug
little hope of being reconciled to tlte unity of the Chunk,
as they called his turning Papist. But the desire of gaiD-
ing over BO great a man, whereby such a glory might re-
dound to their Church, caused the Queen to try once
rtckenfiom ^giun, and to send to him Feckenham, Dean of St. Paul's,
C'"'kl''«i ^ ™^^ "^ raoTt learning, it seems, than the two former,
™.iferwnh and of whose abilities the Queen had a great opioiuo.
This man was of a moderate and obliging temper, uxl
with wlioni Cheke haU been acqufdnted in the late King'a
reign ; and to whom, being then in the Tower, Cheke wu
sent to confer with him, in order to reduce him to the re-
ligion then established, but could not. He was nuw to
perform the same o£Bcc to Cheke, aud in the same phc^
and was furnished with one great argument to uw to
SIR JOHN CHEKE.
Ill
Cheke, which Cheke had not to use to Feckenbara, Ws. SRi
... 1 ■'
compliance or death.
By this time, by bard imprisonment, and seeing nothing -*"""
but burning to follow, if he persisted in his resolutions,
hia courage began to quail; and so the coming and com-
munication of Feckenbara made some impression upon
him. Cheke had a muid to speak with Cardinal Pole, for
some satisfaction and favour ; and he had his desire. For
by his order, Feckenham brought him out of the Tower to
hini : who, when he came, gravely advised him to depart Brouf
from the variety of Doctors to the unity of the Church, ^^.^p,
In fine, Cheke cannot, nor durst hold out any longer, and
Feckenham has the credit to prevail with him to " commit
" his sense and reason to the doctrine of the Church," as it
was worded for him in one of bis recantations. And this
being done, he is fain to submit his person, to be ordered
as it should be thought beat for his soid's wealth, to them
that bad authority in the Church upon such offenders.
The matter being thus far effected, the poor gentleman Wtiii
was put upon making a writing; therein to signify hisX"!
sentence for the carnal presence ; to which, and to this P""
conclusion, in hoc causa et in reliquis omnibus idem me
pro^etyr dicere et senttre, quod Sancta Chrisli, el Catho-
lica tenet Ecclesia, he subscribed his own name. The
writing consisted of certain allegations out of Hilary,
Chiysostom, Cyril, and Augustin, which seemed to favour
that doctrine; hoping that this writing might have suf-
ficed to obtmn his liberty, without more confessions and
public declarations of his change. This paper, written and writ
Bubacribed by himself, he sent by the Dean of St. Paul's „J_
to the Cardinal, with his letter from the Tower, dated
July the 15th, praying him that this might put an end to
any fitrther question concerning him, and that he would
favourably grant certain petitions, that were then by the
Dean put into his hand ; the chief of which seems to be,
that he would have so much compassion of his frailty, as
to spare him from making an open recantation. But that
would not be granted him ; and it required some time be-
112
THE LIFE OF
. fore hciwould be brought to do that; but after !i double
_ communication with him in one day, he was fain to yield
'H- to Pole's order, and dissemble a willingiieaa too, viz. to re-
cant and to recant again, and that in the most public
manner, that they might make the greater triumph of him.
|« Cheke likewise sends a letter to the Queen of the same
date, and brought by the same mesBenger, the Dean ; who,
as he wrote, should shew her his mind now, as to the mat-
ters of religion, trusting, that as it was truly minded of
him, so she would agreeably receive it. He promised all
obedience to her lawa, and to her orders in reli^oa. The
letter ran in this tenor :
" Pleaaeth it your Majesty to understand, that in mat-
,t," ters of religion I hitve declared my mind nnto your Ma-
- " jesty by your virtuous and learned Chaplain, Mr. Dean
** of Paul's ; trusting, that as it is truly minded of me,
" BO your Highness will agreeably receive it. I beseech
" your Majesty therefore, as I have been ajid am your
" faithful subject, whom I do aa God's minister foitbMly
" honour and serve, ttat your Majesty will have the same
" opinion present of me, that my faithfulness, I trust, and
" duty hereafter, shali shew unto you. And I trust, among
" many obedient and quiet subjects, which God storeth
" your Highness with, I shali be found, though not in abl-
" lity of other qualities, yet in wiU and readiness, and obe-
" dience of your lawa, and other orders of religion, as glad
" to serve and obey as any other, desiring your Majesty
" moat humbly to favour such poor suits for my liberty, as
" Mr. Dean shall make to your Majesty in my behalf. Al-
" mighty God prosper and increase your Majesty in aU
" honour and godliness. From your Majesty's Tow
" London, the I5th of July, l.SStJ.
" Your Majesty's most humble
"and obedient subject,
"JOHN CHEKE
SIR JOHN CHEKK
His submissifm to the Cardinal as the Pope's Legate ^ and
his recantations.
AFTER this, to dedare his repentance for liis rejection Aano isse.
of the Pope, he was to do as the Parliament and the^'^'j^
Clerg)', and other apostates, had done before upon theirtedbythe
knees, in order to their reconcilement ; namely, to make *''"^""'-
his solemn submission before the Cardinal, suing to be
■absolved, and received into the Church: which he did;
and so was graciously admitted a member of the Roman
Catholic Church.
But notwithstanding these supplications and submis- The order
sions, he was kept in prison two months and better, after of hi, re-
all this hard service, before he was admitted to his public"
shame ; I mean, to make his recantation : which was done
Jjy him October the 4th, in a most public manner before
■the Queen ; and for the greater formality ushered in by
an oration of Dr. Feckenham, his ghostly father and con-
verter, made by him to the Queen, as it were, in fiivour of
Sir John Cheke, standing by him : which ran in these
■WOTds;
"Virtuous, good Queen, Lady, Mistress; whereas itreciwn-
" hath pleased your Highness, among other of your learn- tion to the
" ed Chaplains to send me unto this man, Mr. Cheke, Q''e«°'«-.
" your Highness's subject, for his conversion and reconci- reomuiioD.
" liation to the unity of Christ's Church, from his most [-"Jji^^'t.
*' dangerous error and wicked heresy of Berengai-y, theAnnig.
*' first denier of Christ's very true real presence in the
*' most blessed Sacrament of the Altar ; I am by so much
" the more bolder here, openly to put myself in place with
" him, and, by humble suit unto your Highness here, to
" opeu my mouth for him. Forasmuch as he is at present
" a very sorrowful and penitent man for the same; and,
" with the Apostle St. Peter, hath shed bitter tears for the
1*' denial of Christ ; and, with St. Paul, did presently make
" his humble submissions, saying, Domine, tfidd me vis fa-
114 THE LIFE OF
CHAP. " ceref and, with the Apostle St. Thomas, is a
" so certified and eatabliebed in the Catholic faith of Chriet,
Aduo isse.« aa^ ^th him, forced to wonder at the marvellous worka
" of God, and to say, Dominus meus, et Deus meus. Most
" humbly, therefore, good gracious Lady and Mistress, 1
" beseech your Highness now mercifully to receive him
" into your favour and mercy, which, with so much loyalty
" and obeisance of heart and mind, doth yield himself
" wholly unto your mercy; and let him taste now of that
" your Highness's great mercy, accustomed to all coi
" and penitent offenders, which doth here so openly
" and beg for the same j most humbly suing, with the
" child in the Gospel, Peccavi in coelum, et coram
"jam non sum dignits vocari Jilitis tutu. Fac me titul
" unutn de mercenariis tuis. And by so much the more as
" he sheweth, at the least wise here openly in this place,
" more repentance than any other man hath done hereto-
" fore, more sori'ovv and detestation of his offence, more to
" the pacifying of God's wrath and displeasure, more to
" the contentation and satisfying of the world for his slan-
" der given in the same ; (whereof so many of your High-
" ness's subjects, which, wdthout number, within this latter
" atomi and trial of faitli made in this realm, were carried
" away into no small errors and horrible heresies ;) tbia
" only man, Mr. Cheke, is now the first that here openly
" hath given the example of true Christian penance ; wbert
" he only is content openly to acknowledge hia error, and
" confess his heresy ; and he only here present doth sob-
" mit himself to recant the same. This man, Mr, Cheke,
" doth, in plucking off the visor of all feigned and counter-
" feit penance, stand here openly to beg for the renuaBton
" of his offence at the hand of God, forgiveness of tbc
" whole world, and pardon of your Highness's laws. And
" therefore, most gracious Queen, think him only in re-
" spect of the rest most worthy the same : most hninbly
" beseeching your Highness to take him to your mercy,
" and how down your moHt gracious and n
'* ears to hear him."
SIR JOHN CHEKE.
115
And then the JtiBiutccI ^ntleman began his palinode, aa sect.
follows : " The acknowledging of an error is the right entry '
" into a truth. For even as in life, the first degree [of Anno isse.
" goodness] is to avoid evil, and then to do good ; so in ^"^^^■' "'
" faith errors must be avoided, that the right religion may pronounced
*' take place. Wherefore, as before I made my humble q^h^™"*
" submission unto my Lord Cardinal 'e good Grace, who first
" accepted the same well, and so received me as a member
" of Christ's Catholic Church ; so now, before your Majesty,
" whom God hath marvellously brought unto your noble
" and due place of govemiiient under him, I do profess and
" protest, that whatsoever mine opinion of the blessed Sa-
" crament of Christ's body and blood, and of the sense of
" Christ's words spoken of the same, hath been hereto-
" fore ; I do now, after conference had with certain learned
" men, your Majesty's Chaplains, and especially the right
" worshipful Master Dean of Paul's, believe firmly the
" real presence of Christ's very body and blood in the Sa-
" crament, and none other substance there remaining :
" moved thereunto by invincible reasons of the Catholic
*' Doctors against the Arians, of Christ's very true and
*' natural being in us, and also by the consent of Christ's
" Catliolic Church. Unto the which, both iu these and in
" all other matters of my faith, I most humbly submit
" myself. Whereiii, [as] for the saccess, [so] I do most
" humbly thank God for the manner and the clemency
" thereof, shewed in drawing me with mercy thereunto.
" I do most humbly give thanks unto the ministers of
" mercy in Christ's Church, whereof 1 do acknowledge the
" Pope's Holiness to be head ; and especially my Lord
*' Cardinal's good Grace, Legate of England from the
" Pope's Holiness, and Primate of the same. Unto whom
** 1 made my submission ; not moved by policy and worldly
" respects, but persuaded by learning and conscience, when
" otherwise I could have been contented to yield myself to
" the contrary. And also I do give most humble thanks
" to your Majesty for yoitr great mercifulness towards me ;
IIG THE LIFE OF
CHAP. " who as in other excellenciea do follow your heavenly
^' " Father, so in this precise quality of mercifulness do ex-
Anno I5S6. " press his holiness, that commandeth you to be tnerciftil.
" Your Majesty herein hath great cause to give God
" thanks, as in all other your princely gifts, that ye need
" not under God to seek no example of mercifulness to
" follow, but yourself: who, daily inclining to follow God
" in mercy, shew great evidence whose heavenly child
" your Majesty is.
" And, as I beseech God, your Majesty do continue the
" same grace to others that have need of mercy, so I tnisl
" God our Saviour will work the like in others, that he b}-
" your Majesty hath wrought in me. For as tliey may
" well learn of me to beware of singularity, and trusting
" unto certain sayings of Doctors, rather than to the
" Church, and preferring private judgments before the
" Catholic consent of Christ's Church ; so shall they easier
" be led from error to truth, when they see them drawn
" by your Highneas's mercy, and not plucked by extre-
" mity ; and that their life and mendment is sought, not
" their [death] and shame. In the which lesson they ehsU
" find, 1 doubt uot, as I do, much contentation of BV^H
" and quietness of conscience. Which 1 trust, for my j^^|
" continually to keep in all matters pertaining to tha4^H
" tholic Faith of Christ's Church : and hope to slicw
" myself, in the residue, so faithful a subject to your
" Highness, as my bounden duty serveth me for; and in
" matters of religion so obedient, as hecometh a ChristiaB
" According unto the which my doings, I most honbly
" beseech your Highness to shew your clemency and h-
" vour; none otherwise. And 1 shall pray unto God, w-
" cording to mine humble duty, that as he hath troddm
*' down errors, and set your Highness marvellously in thn
" your high state of your most lawful kingdom, so he WJI
" preserve your Majesty with the same providence, to tbt
" increase of his glnrj', and honour both of \o\
SIR JOHN CHEKE.
117
" and of the noble King and Frince, King Fhilip, youi- sect.
" Majesty's dear husband; and the quietness of your Ma- ^'
" jesty's subjects." Anno l5Se.
Besides this recantation, I meet with another, framed Another re-
fer Sir John Cheke's mouth by Cardinal Pole's pen orti,cke,
direction : the above written recantation, spoken before »!*''^" •«-
the Queen, being, in the Cardinal's judgment, not enough; court.
but, since he had lived long in the Court, and had been
instruQiental to sow the doctrine of the Gospel in the
hearts of many there, it was thought convenient, that he
should recant likewise in the face and hearing also of the
Court. And this also the poor man was forced to do. This
fonn of recantation is long, according to the usual tedious
style of the Cardinal : however, I shall here exemplify it.
" I am come hither afore this most honourable and E Foiii
" gracious audience, to accuse myself, and to give thanks
" to Almighty God, especially for this cause, that he hath
"given me the grace to accuse myself: which, without
" his great special grace, I could never have done, being
" BO far gone in mine own conceit, and so much delighting
" in the same. So that being now brought from the same,
** and willingly to confess my error, I count one the great-
*' est grace that ever came unto me ; and such, without
*' this, no other gift of God (of whose grace cometh all the
" good that 1 have ever had, or can be in me) may do me
" any good. But the more his gifts have been towards
" me aforetime, the more they be to my condemnation,
" without this grace that God hath given me now, which
** is willingly and gladly to accuse myself. And the same,
** for to be called a grace, must bruig with it a knowledge
*• and detestation of my most grievous and horrible otfence,
" with desire of mercy of that is past, and submitting
" myself most humbly to that order that it shall please
** them to set, whom God, the Lord of mercy, hath made
" governors in his Church, of like offenders as 1 have
" been.
" And all this having pleased the goodness of God to
" work in the secret of my heart, I am come now to utter
US THE LIFE OF
" the eame openly before you, to the praise of h
_" and, as I trust, to the edification of some other; which I
^'* " do, following the order which hath been given UQlo me
*' by tlieui whom in such case I am most bound to obey.
" Wherein also I do knowledge the goodness of God, that
" hath put in their mind to enjoin me to make the confes-
" sion of my grievous error, in that place where I did most
" grievously offend, both to the ruin of myself, and of other
" that were conversant with me, which are here in the
" Court ; where I had more occasion to do hurt, for the
" place of schoolmaster 1 had with young King Edward,
" and with all the youth of the nobility, than any other
" had. And albeit mine office was not to teach him the
" matters of religion, which was committed to others ; yet
" I confess, touching my pestilent error, I peradventure
" did no less to confirm and set forward the same in his
" mind, and aJl the rest of the youth, than any other.
" And what mine error was, though it be not unkiiown,
" I think, to any in this honourable assembly, yet coining
" to confess the same, which I myself, a little before, iooik
" for no error, it may please you to understand the quaUty
" thereof: which was a blasphemy of the holy name at
" God, under colour to glorifj- the same ; and a persecution
" of the name of Christ, more grievous than ever were
*' they, tliat, deceived by others, crucified Christ, or af-
" terward did persecute those that were his disciples; I
" having a greater cause than ever St. Paul had to say »o,
" when he went from town to town, hax'ing obtuined au-
" thority of the chief heads of the Priests, to imprison
" those that professed the name of Christ. But tliat pcr-
" accution I made was not so open as bis was, as my blos-
" phemy also was more hid ; and so hid to myself, that I
" thought all were blasphemers that held contrary opinion.
" Wherefore I may well say in this part with St. iVul,
" Misericordiam cunsecutus sum, quia igitoram fevi.
" Albeit mine ignorance was not such, but that it did
" rather aggravate mine offence than excuse it j beinf:
" nmch more excusable the ignorance of the Jews ifaac
SIR JOHN CHEKE. 119
" killed Christ, and also of St. Paul, that did persecute
" hia servants ; both following the motive of those whom _
" the law of God gave authority to be judges in all such Ai
" matters, as were principes sacerdolum ; of whom St.
" Paul had letters to persecute Christ's servants ; and by
" their motion the people were set up to cry against Christ,
" Crucifige eum : for whom Chriat did pray to his Father,
" Ignosce illis, quia nesciunt quid faciunt. And St, Paul
" might well ask Chriat, Quis es Domine ? having no
** knowledge of him by the doctrine of hia auperiors, that
" it was Christ he did persecute. But mine ignorance was
*' not such ; for if I would have believed my superiors, all
** told me contrary to that I did ; all did forbid me to do
" as I did, and curse me if I did attempt the same. Which
*' they did, following the rule and knowledge of their fore-
" fathers, that were counted most to have lived in the
" grace of God, So that mine ignorance can have no
" colour of excuse, but all to aggravate my greater damna-
** tion ; entering into the same by mine ovnx election, and
** prosecuting the same by mine own authority, when I
" would he wiser than all other : and by the justice of
" God was made more ignorant than all other, as the
" effect did shew. For what an arrogant blindness was
" this, what gi-eat madness, to thbik I saw more touching
*' the Sacrament of the Altar, than first all the Prelates of
" the Church in this realm, since the time the faith was
" received ! For if it were true tha,t I took for true, that
" the sacrifice of the Mass was idolatry, never-ceasing
" Mass to be said in that manner it is now, and never no
" fault to be found therein ; either this must be a deep
" ignorance in them that brought in the faith, that saw
" not this, or in me the most execrable, that condemned
" both them and the rest of the world in the same. Which
*' ia the most blasphemy that could be said against the
*' providence of God, and against the love that Christ
>' beareth to hia Church : making him more benevolent to
-" the old Synagogue than to the Church, qitam acquUivU
" saTiguine suo ; letting them never to fall into idolatry.
120 THE LIFE OF
' but they had warners thereof, and great chaatiseni
' therefore ; and we to have no warner in this long space ol
Anne 1SS6. u gg many years living in idolatry. What would blaspheme
" more the providence of God towards his Church, &om
" the which he promiseth never to be absent.
" And whenas we know the old people could not fiiU
" in coma) vices, but they had Priests and Prophets to
" warn them ; and if they did not of themselves, then God
" himself warneth them, and reproveth them for their si-
" lence, calling them sometimes canes miitas tton valenta
" latrare. But what reproof were worthy our Priests and
" Prophets, if, when such idolatry crept into the Chun-h,
" there was not found the space of so many humired yeara
" as passed from the primitive Church to Berengariss's
" time, that did reprove men of this idolatry?
" So that here, when f consider myself, I cannot so
" much marvel at mine own blindness, that 1 saw not in
" this point how I blasphemed Christ, and condemnrd the
" Church, taking that for idolatry, tlmt the Church eonti-
" nually had used, and was never condemned. But yet
" here I cannot say I was so blind, but I aaw somewhat
" tliis inconvenience, what a thing it was thus to go
" against the whole consent of the Church. But to avoid
" that, and to amend it, I fell into another; which was, to
" displace the Church where Christ had set it, as I had
" displaced the body of Christ iu the Sacrament. So that
" the congregation of all Christian men, which was com-
" jnonly called the Church, 1 took not for the Church; but
*' sometime I made the Church a spiritual congregation
" without a body, invisible as the spirit is ; and yet, Bering
" some inconvenience in that, I began to belie the Chun^,
" and say it was visible, and seen on ejirth, but most seen
" in the Apostles' time, which was the primitive Church.
" And those I took to be of mine opinion, and diven
" Doctors that followed, whose sentence I did interprctate
" aa to agree with mine. Wherein I went from error to
" error, mending the first with a second, and so iiio-PMing
" in blindness, which 1 took for light, and did what 1 could
SIR JOHN CHEKE.
121
"to bring the whole realm into blindness; as it was as sect.
*• much as man's wit and malice could do, by them that '
*' had highest authority in the realm.. But non est consi- *""" '^^^■
" Hum contra Dominum -■ et potestatt efus guis resistet f
" This God hiiving ever shewed most notable, hath now
" also shewed it in this realm, preserving a virgin to shew
" the marvellous work of his presence, his true doctrine,
" in all the time of that tempestuous world, as it were a
" lamp-light in the midst of a stormy wind in a maiden's
** hand; whom no learning, no perauaaion, no fear could
" turn, no power oppress ; hut made her oppress them
" that had all the power of the realm in their hand : which
" was a great miracle to all them that had grace to see it.
" But here, alas ! I was so far from grace to see it, and to
" receive it aa all the rest did, that I began to think how 1
" might flee it, and judged it most wisdom so to do. And
" BO I did, fleeing from that place, where true religion,
" being trod under foot afore, began to spring again ; and
** went thither, where I had more occasion to be con6nned
*' in my corrupt opinion. But in my case I may say also,
" non est consilium contra Dominum : which, when I
" thought least, subverted all my counsel, and, as it were
" with a hurlc-wind, took me from the place I was in, and
" brought me over the sea, and never knew wliither I went,
" afore I found myself in the Tower of London, which of
" all places 1 abhorred most.
" And yet at last I came to have that comfort, that I
*' coniess now I never came into place where I had more
" cause to thank God. But at the beginning I was so
" confused with this strange chance, that when I knew at
•' mine ejcamination the cause of my sudden bringing,
" which was chiefly for religion, there was no death but 1
* bad liever sufiered it, than to change that opinion I
" brought with nie. Albeit, after a few days that I was
♦' first examined, being sent unto me two learned men, as
" they shewed full of charity, 1 shewed myself to hear
*' them not unwillingly ; and gladly to confer my doubts
^ with them, and desired to be better informed. Yet the
\'J2
THE UFE OF
. " conclusion was such with them, thut in very deed t
_" moved me nothing, and so left me as desperate to be
'*■ " reconciled as their desire was ; and so continued, until
" it pleased God to put in the Queen's Majesty'B mind, of
" her grace, mercy, and charity, to prove me yet better.
" And her Grace, not knowing, sent unto me one, who, in
" King Edward's time, being in prison in that same place
" where I was now, by order that was ^ven then, was
" fetched out to be examined afore me. To whom I sliewed
" that courtesy the case could require; but I could not
" bring him to mine opinion. And the selfsame man now
" was the mean to bring me utterly unto his ; and fetched
" me out of the Tower to come afore my Lord Legate ;
" which in truth I did desire.
*' Beginning now to incline to the Catholic sentence;
" but not so far as to make any manner of confessioa of
" mine error, or open recantation, (wherein I desired my
" Lord Legate to have compassion of my frailty ;) but after
" twice communication in one day of the same matter, ax
" last, God of his mercy was stronger in me, and made
" me, as I did in the doctrine, submit my reason and sense
" to the doctrine of the Church : so also my person I aub-
" mitted to be ordered, as it should be thought best (or
" my soul's wealth, of them whom God had given autho-
" rity in the Church upon such otfenders. And this hang
" my Lord Legate's order, that I should appear in this
" place to confess and retract my pernicious sentence, i
" this I thank Almighty God, first, with an bumble I
" contrite heart, that it hath pleased him to use this n
" with me ; and afterwards the Queen's Highuess, t
" she vouchsafed first to bear with my infinite offencea, i
" to send unto me such men as she did, to direct me, i
" confirm me in the right way; and finally, to be c
" to let me cume to her presence ; and so withal to my
" Lord Legate that gave the order, and all thut hare been
" ministers thereui.
" And for an assured token, that I say witii my moath
" that which I think with my heart, being fallen into the
ence, la
ble ^^
SIR JOHN CHEKE.
123
*' error which Berengarius fell into, I make the selfsame SK
" recantation that he did, only changing the name.
" I, Sir John Cheke, Knight," &c. The tenor of which Anne
waa, that he pretended with heart and mouth to profess, ^f'^V
that he acknowledged the true catholic and apostolical
&ith, and did execrate all heresj-, and namely that where-
with he lately had been infamed, as holding that the bread
and wine upon the altar, after the consecration of the
Priest, remained only a sacrament, and were not the very
body and blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, neither could be
handled or broken by the Priest's hands, or chewed with
the teeth of the faithful, otherwise than only in manner of a
sacrament. That he consented now to the holy and aposto-
Hcal Church of Rome, and professed with mouth and heart
to hold the same faith touching the sacrament of the Lord's
Mass, which Pope Nicolas, with his Synod* at Rome • Ms
anno 105S, did hold, and commanded to be held by hiSg^l-)',^
evangelical and apostolical authority: that is, that thercng:
bread and wine upon the altar, after consecration, are not
only a sacrament, but also are the very true and selfsame
body and blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, felt and broken
with hands, and chewed with teeth : swearing by the holy
Evangelists, that whosoever should hold or say to the con-
trary, he should hold them perpetually accursed ; and that
if he himself should hereafter presume to teach against the
same, he should be content to abide the severity and rigour
of the Canons, &c.
*' Thus you have heard mine open and plain confession ;
" which it may please Almighty God so to accept, that not
•' only it be to the wealth of my soul, but of as many as
•' hear it. Upon which trust T came the gladlier hither ;
*' nothing more desiring at this time, than that it may
*' please the goodness of God to give me time and grace,
*' that, as mine example, holding my perverse opinion, hath
" been cause of ruin and slander of many, that either, by
" my occasion, or by another, be fallen in the like error, or
" yet be in any wavering in their opinion of the blessed
" Sacrament t which, that it may be better eschewed, I
THE LIFE OF
CHAP. " shall udjoin (pleasing you to hear it) the very begiuung
_ " of my fall ; which is uone other than the same beginning
Anno issG." that bringeth men to all kind of heresy. And that ^
" pride, which stood in confidence of mine own wit,
" making myself a master and judge of the doctrine of the
" Church : whereas I was not come to the perfectncaa Ui
" be a good scholar. But when 1 heard other men begin
" to put a. doubt in this article of the Sacrament, and also
" afore I heard them doubtf I began myaclf to make doubt
" to myself, seeing that doctrine so far beyond all reason
" and sense, whether this were a figurative speaking, as
" many other be in Scripture hke, or else a plain literal
" sense, as the words sounded; and seeing divers places,
" both in Scripture, and in some other Doctors that
" seemed to favour the opinion of a figurative speaking;
" seeing also that, taking it in that sense, it should not be
" so much abhorred commonly of men, of what religion
" soever they were, nay, of the Jews themselves ; which,
" if they did take the thing, that Christ made himself
" victima paschalis for us, would never abhor this mamier
" of sacrifice to be a figure of that. Upon this groatut,
" hearing and reading what was written at this time of
" learned men in Germany, and what a great number wen
" ^en into tliis opinion, this confirmed me utterly in the
" same ; especially seeing {as 1 took it) the providence of
" God had wrought, that-also it was accepted in the wtxrie
" realm, ail masses cast away, and condemned as a aacri-
" fice of idolaters ; whereby I was so confirmed. Seeing
" withal, that many places of Scripture, being more illufl-
" trate than they were in our fathers' days ; and the whole
" Scripture more read, and the intelligence of it more
" sought, than it was these years past, when this opinkm
"was less doubted of; I thought this was one greater
" light given to the world, which by the more study of the
" word of God was more revealed ; and that the other w»»
*' brought in when men began to fall from studies of Scrlp-
'* tures, and gave them U> their own inventions : which
" was after the Apostles' times and the primitive Church,
SIR JOHN CHEKE. 125
' which I took utterly to be of mine opinion. And that sect.
' when men were more deceived, as they relented from ^"
'the life and doctrine of the primitive Church, which Anaoisse.
■' I took most of all to be in our days, when the Clergy
' were so far gone from the ensample of life of their first
* fathers, and gave themselves more to all kind of studies
' than to the Scriptures, Which experience greatly con-
' finned me to think that God had blinded them, and with
i* the study of Scriptures had brought in more light ; and
'* especially in this article of the Sacrament of the Altar :
■' wherein I judged them ntterly blinded, that had not so
■' well boulted the Scriptures as they have done in Ger-
" many, which hold most this opinion that I was in.
" So that you see now how 1 fell : which I counted no
■' fall ; but that all other fell, that held the contrary opin-
?* ion ; I standing in the true faith of the primitive Church :
'* thinliing withal, that Lanfrancus, Archbishop of Canter- Unfrank,
" bury, which was one of the first writers that set forth o/canwr-''
" the opinion of the real presence of the body and blood of """T'
" Christ, impugning the contrary, did defend his own opin-
io ion, and not that of the Church ; and that opinion whicli
" he defended began with him, when all true knowledge
" was much obscured, and the life of the Clergy more de-
'.' formed.
" Thus far I was gone : which was not only to go in
" consilio impiorum, et stare in via peccatorum, but to
" firm ray seat in cathedra irrisorum et pestUentiee. Which
" 1 did, making myself judge of the catholic doctrine and
" the Doctors ; scorning the same in the greatest article
" of all, toucliing the Sacrament ; and infecting with my
" pestilent opinion as many as I -wss conversant withal.
" In the which chair I was so fixed, that no power, but
" only God, could subvert the same, to make me know
" myself. Which so now the hand of God, by his mira-
" culous power, as I do knowledge it, hath done of his
" high mercy, both for mine own self, and, as I trust, for
" the edification of many, whom I had afore ruinate, sitting
" in my chair of pestilence. In which hope standeth now
THE LIFE OF
■ " alt the joy of my life. And this is that tempereth the
_ " sorrow of my mind, that I take for mine horrible offence ;
^■"trusting that God will turn all the more to his glorj-.
" Without the which trust, now that I know my foult, I
" were not able surely to bear myself. But if I have anr
" part of contentatioii in this lil'e, all standeth in this, as 1
" may see God glorified by my sin, giving me true repent-
" ance thereof, that the good may be confirmed in their
" good faith, and the ill returned to the same ; as I trust
" this day the same grace that hath worked in me shall
" work in many,
" This only I will warn all that have been tempted with
" the same false doctrine that I have been, and now shew
" themselves outwardly to refiise the same, that they be
" well ware of another great tempfaition, and a pernicious
" counsel, which to follow is more odious to God, than to
'* profess openly the false opinion; that is, if they should,
" for poUcy sake, shew themselves to follow the Prince's
"opinion, which is catholic; and to think otherwise io
" their mind of God ; which we liave seen hath lighted
" upon some already : for nihil est occultum, quod mm
" revelabilur. And this is a more mocking of Christ, and
" more dishonouring, than when the Jews saluted him,
" saying, Ave Rex Judceorum '. with their mouth, the same
" time they brought him to be crucified as a malefactor.
" Wherefore let all men beware of this ; whereof I do the
" more earnestly warn you, because there hath not lacked
" that would have given like counsel to me : &oiu the
" which the mercy of God hath utterly delivered me, and
" maketh me the more earnestly warn you of the same.
" Now having none other thing to say at this present,
" but to desire you all, upon my kneee prostrate, and
" especially my noble Mistress, that it will please her to
" give thanks for me to God, for recovering a servant of
" hers that was utterly lost. And though I am not wortbjr
" of myself to be remembered, yet if the angels tn faeivtn
*< make more joy of one sinner converted, than of so many
"just men, my ronversion, being to the glory of God, ii
SIR JOHN CHEKE. 127
" not unworthy to be reraeinbere<l on earth, with due
" thanks to the goodness of Goil, by whose grace I am _
" returned. In tlie rest, submitting myself with all humi- A
" lity to all the order of penance and satisfaction, that it
" will please my Lord Legate to put unto me : which can-
" not be so sore, as I trust God shall give me grace and
" will to fulfil it to the uttermost.
" And thus Almighty God, that hath begun to shew his
" mercy on me, of the same his infinite mercy, may do the
" like upon all the rest that be either contrary or waver-
" ing. jimen."
SECT. VI.
Observations upon Cheke's recantations. 77ie Queen grants
him lands in exchange.
I SHALL not make observations upon these foregoing Popish
recantations, though many might be made ; only 1 cannot ^^1°
but observe two or three things eti passant. As, how ri-ch«ke.
gorously these Popish masters dealt with Cheke, now they
had got him into their power, in putting him to make one
long recantation after another: and in them prescribing
him words and sentences, so grievous and grating upon
his very heart ; whereby he was fain so to belie and be-
spatter himself, as in effect to accuse himself to be one of
the vilest wretches on earth : iia. " That he blasphemed
" the name of God, and persecuted the name of Christ,
" and that more than they that crucified bim ; and that
" the ignorance of the Jews that killed Christ was more
" excusable than his. That he did what he could to bring
" the whole realm into blindness. That since he came
" into the Tower, he never came into place where he had
*' more cause to thank God. And that for an assured
" token to the auditors, that what he stud with bis mouth
" he thought with his heart, they put the very words of
" Berengarius's recantation into his mouth, to own all the
" absurdities of tran substantiation ; and divers such like
" expressions,"
128
THE LIFE OF
Chck»-s an
perpleiitj.
I observe also, by a clause of the recantation, upon what
__ reason their anger and malice against Cheke was chieBy
''■ grounded ; namely, because he had been the great iiistni-
'^meiit of good religion unto King Edward, and other noble
youth of the Court, more than any other; whenas his
office, as he was instructed to say, was not to teach him
matters of religion, an employment committed to others.
1- And, lastly, I make one remark with great commiaen-
tion ; and that is, in what a deplorable anguish and per-
plexity, not to be expressed, this poor gentleman was,
whilst he was thus constrained to speak matters bo utterly
against his knowledge and conscience ; and what a woful
fall this good man made to save a poor life. Such wetk
frml creatures the best are, considered in themselves. Which
makes me think what Archbisliop Parker writ on the mai^
of the copy of one of these recantations. Homines aanmi,
i. e. " We are but men,"
> Nor yet was this all the penance that Sir John Chekt
was to do, (though one would think this had been enou^
of all conscience;) hut further, after all this, he was to an-
dergo penances, whatsoever they should be, (aud he pro-
mised it,) that should be enjoined him by the Pope's Le-
gate, the Cardinal.
D And now, having done all this drudgery, and undei^ooe
all these hardships for bis life, (wherein the Romaoisti
were to triumph and glory,) he makes all his interest to
obtain his lands of the Queen £^^n, which in his absence
she had taken possession of. And his lands at length be
had restored to him ; but upon condition of an exchai^
with the Queen for others. And so he was required to
make a surrender to her of all his lands and manors iku
be had obtmned under his late royal master. King Edirard.
Which having been the revenues of religious houses m
chauntries, the Queen thought fit to take uito her bandl,
perhaps with an hitention, ui due time, to resettle Ifam
upon the old foundations, and restore them to their Irit
purposes ; yet granting him other Church lands at a gmt'
cr di.->I^nce from London, aa in Devonshire and S<Hnenet-
P SIR JOHN CHEKE. 129
[ shire: which it may be afterwards, means should have sect.
been made to dispo:ie also to their Qriginal constitutions. ^''
Which required surrender, Cheke complying with the-^i""> isss.
Queen, granted him a patent, (which I have seen in the
hands of my honoured friend, John Conyers, Esq.) dated
April the 12th, in the 3d and 4th of King Philip and Queen
Mary : wherein mention is made of the manor of Bramp-
ton Abbot in Devonshire, given by King Henry VIII. to
Sir Hugh Stukely, Knight ; and of the customary lands
and reversions in Freshford and Woodwick in Somerset-
ahire, given by King Edward VI. to Philip Juys, one of
the said King's gardeners, &c. All these lands and manors
Sir John obtained of the Queen, in consideration, as the
patent runs, of a certain recognizance of the town of Clare,
and the site of the college of Stoke ; and of the manors of
Stoke, Clare, Hundon, Ashton, and Pitley, alias Pightley,
with the appurtenances in the county of Essex; and of
the advowsons of the churches of Clare, Hunden, and
Ashton ; and also of the office of Feodary of the honour of
Clare, and the hundred of ChUton, Cbibel, &c. in the
county of Cambridge ; and of the manors of Preston, Beck-
wel, &c. in Sussex ; and of the priory of Spalding, &c. in
Lincolnshire ; and other demeans in Norfolk ; and of di-
vers other manors and tenements ; levied and done by Sir
John Cheke, and Mary his wife, to the Queen and her
heirs, at Westminster, in Hilary term, in the 3d and 4th
of the said King and Queen. For which and other causes
their Majesties moving, they of their special grace granted
to the said Cheke and Peter Osborn, Esq. the reversion of
the said manor of Brampton Abbot in Devon, belonging
formerly to the monastery of Clive; and the annual rents
of 37'- -*. 6oA. ; and the reversion of the customary lands
of Freshford and Woodwick in Somersetshire. They grant-
ed also to him and the said Osbom the manor of More in
Devon ; and the capital messuage of Batokysborough, and
the manor of Aiashetote, alias Ayscote, in Somersetshire ;
and the manor of Northlode, parcel of the possessions of
THE UFE OF
the monastery of Glascon ; together with some other
_ things granted to the smd Sir John Cheke and Maryli(^
Anno issG.wife, and Peter Osboi-n,
SECT. VII.
ffhaf happened to Cfieke after his recantation. Tmt/bled.
Mepeiits. Dies.
chek* mtHje BUf fjj thesc temporal accessions could not heal the
with Pb- wounds he had given his mind by his apostasy or hypo-
^""' crisy ; which so excessively dejected him, that within lew
than a year after it ended his life, as we shall be told by
and by. But the Papists now outwardly made much of
their convert; had him frequently in their companies, at
their tables, to eat with them ; and on their benches, when
the pretended heretics were summoned before them, and
examined ; to shew him openly, no doubt, as an example
to them, what a leading and learned man had forsaken
their party; and for him to exhort them to do as he liail
done. Which were hut so many fresh stings to him.
cmoke re- -j^g Protestants extenuated as much as they could his
dismal fall, making it not so foul as was at first represent-
ed. An Englishman in exile, sojourning at Strasburg,
(and seems to be Grindal,) wrote to Peter MartjT, then at
Zurich, March 15 anno 155(>, informing him, that Cheke
had given significations of his repentance and sorrow fbt
bis fall. Which gave such satis&ctiou to that rcrenuwi
Father, that he wrote back to his friend tliat gave him tlii»
intelligence, that it was very acceptable to hear what he
had wrote concerning Cheke, because Cheke had now de-
Iiii. I'.Mar-clared, "that his faith was rather bent, than brokf mid
P^Ts/'eoi. " quite extinguislied, however reports might be carried of
s.eiiit, "him." But Martyr added, that he thought it almost
past belief, that he should persevere while he tarried in
England ; and subjoined his earnest pr4iyer, " that God,
" the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, would so by Ul
" Spirit repair his shipwreck, that, with as little lai
SIR JOHN CHEKE. !31
*' might be, he might at last arrive at the haven of salva- sect,
" tion." And God heard his prayer: for it was not long
after that Cheke made his exit. Anno 1557.
And piniog away with the shame and regret of what he Dies,
had done, he died Sept. 13, 155?, aged 43, at his Mend
Mr. Peter Oabom's house, in Wood-street, London ; and
was buried in St. Alban's church there, in the north chapel
of the quire, Sept. 16. On whose grave were engraven
these verses, made by his learned acquaintance, Dr. Walter Mss. d. H.
Haddon ; which I shall here set down, as I have them Kt_ ^nlr.
transciibed from the monumental stone, taken by Charles
Lancaster, herald, anno 1611, rather than as they are
varied in Cheke's life, composed by H. Holland, and from
him by Dr. Gerard Langbain. On the stone, on the right
side of the inscription, is engraven the coat of arms of him
and his wife ; being three crescents, and a crescent in the
midst for distinction. The woman's coat, a salteir vaire,
with a martlet in the nombril point, between five martlets.
The epitaph as follows :
DoctriiitB lumen Checvh vit<Bque magister,
Aurea natura fabrica, mortejacet.
Mm erat e multis umis, sed prtEstitit units
Omnibus et patriajios erat ille sua.
Gemma Britmina fuit, tarn magnum, nulla tukrunt
Tempora ihesaiirum, tempora nulla ferent.
Where one may observe, that neither his religion, his fall,
□or his repentance, arc in the least touched, those times
not suffering it.
To which I will add the verses that Sir Thomas Chalo-
ner, a gentleman and excellent scholar that lived in those
times, iu his miscellanies made of him :
Epitaphium D. Joannis Checi.
Til nunc exuvins liquisti corporis Mtjus,
Chekk, Deo vivens, lux nova Jmicto polo.
FulsUti inter tios Iwnen radiantins ; et nunc
Astra tuo e.rnrfu languidioru micant,
K 2
TIIK LIFE OP
SECT. vm.
His circumstances at his death. His arms. His pi
His lady. Her fortune. Mac Williams hi
husband. Some account of him. Her death,
HE left Henry, hia son and heir, but in ba«j
stances, dying a thousand marks and more in debt. He
left behind him, in land, to the value of three hundred
marks a year ; his wife being joint purchaser with him for
two hundred marks thereof, and Peter Osbora (at whose
■ house he died) for the third. But that true friend of Sir
John, though he had an estate in that land for the term of
fals hfe, and might have taken all the profits thereof to \m
own use, was contented to forbear it, of very kindness to
the Lady Cheke his widow, and to Henry Cheke and his
brothers ; as in divers other respects he had shewn himself
kind to that family, and discharged Sir John's debts, and
maintained Henry at school during his minority, and fully
answered such debts as his father owed him ; and, whrn
he came to full age, he released him the commodities aris-
ing of the land, and suffered him to receive them to
own use during his life.
Sir John's paternal coat of anns was argent, three
cents gules. There be tivo crests shewn in the Henili
Office for his crest. The one is a leopard seiant, with a
collar and chain : the other a crescent of the colour of the
ereacents in the coat, with a cross patee fitehe placed
within the horns of it, of the same ; which was that be
commonly bore ; and seems to have relinquished the other
for this. Which very aptly denoted (as it were by soinc
prophetic spirit in him or the herald) that great cross and
affliction that befell him for the sake of Christ,
n All that I can describe of his person is from a picture of
him yet remainuig at PjTgo, in the long gallery thore:
where he is represented with a round cap on his head,
and a letter and other papers in his right hand, as Clerk
of the Council, or principal Secretary. A book lying upon
ans-
SIR JOHN CHEKE. 133
the table before him, signifying either his own learning, or sect.
his place and charge of instructing t he King. A full comely ^'"'
countenance, somewhat red; with a yellow lai-ge beard,A"Qo iss?.
covering his upper lip, and hanging helow his chin, some-
what forked. A visage portending wisdom and careful-
ness.
His lady (who no question suffered deeply with liim) ^"^y_ t:''*''"
yet lived to see better days, and enjoyed a long life. For gnia to m«c
she married again to Henry Mac Williams, of Irish extract, *^'"'»°»»'
Esquire, a gentleman of the Court, and of considerable
quality. But a match that proved unhappy for tlie children
she had hy Sir John Cheke; her estate (which was consi-
derable) going to her second husband, and the children by
Her fortune brought to this gentleman was, in western Th» esute
knds, by year, 132^. 3.?. 4rf. The fines and casualties tt'ium."^'''
thereof was worth the first year 30O/. ; the yearly casual-
ties afterwards were, commnnibus annis, 66/. I3s. Ail.
She had in plate 1000 marks, in jewels 800 marks ; gowns,
five ; kirtles, nineteen ; partlets, sleeves, and other linen,
to the value of above 300/.; household stuff that cost
above 400?. For her service of her Majesty she had a
lease in Wales, which, first and last, was worth 1000/. ;
she had moreover in sheep 360/. she had Bamardiston, a
ward, worth 500 marks ; more, two leases for the provision
of her house, that, to be sold, were worth 200/. Such a for-
tune was she to ber second husband, and such an injury her
Becond marriage did to her children by the former husband,
leaving them in the mean time very bare and needy.
This Henry Mac Williams was a person of valour and'niisMac
chivalrj', being one of those that were chosen by the Earl n,„Q ^f ,1,].
of Leicester, in a great exercise of tilts and tournaments, ''^'^J'-
anno 1565, before Queen Elizabeth, (wherein he met with
a remarkable accident,) at the marriage of Ambrose Dud-
ley, Earl of Warwick, with a daughter of Francis Ruesel,
JEarl of Bedford, solemnized before the said Queen, at her
palace at Westminster, Sunday, 11th of November, the Bi Officio
THE LIFE OP
year above-aaid. For the greater magiiificeacj', on the
said Sunday, and two days after, were holden justs, tour- ,
7.neys, and barriers, at Westminster, by four gentLemen
challengers against all comere, viz. Sir Henry Knoles, soa
and heir to Sir Francis Knoles, Vice-ChamberMn ; Thomw
Leighton, Christopher Hattou, and Robert Colshill.
Robert, Earl of Leicester, being chief defendant, with
twenty-two other noblemen and gentlemen in his coift.
pany; namely, Henry L. Herbert, son and heir to WiUiam
Herbert, Earl of Pembroke; Arthur L. Grey, of Wiltoaj
Walter Winsor, Henry Norrj's, and, among the rest, Henry
Mac Williams. The third day, being Tuesday, Henry Mac
Williams ran with Henry Knoles at the toiirney, who over-
threw both Mac Williams and his horse. Whereupon the
said horse and armour became a due droit to the officers
at arms ; who, according to their right, and according to
the judgment of the Lord Judge there present, saxei
upon the simie. But being put in question, whether it
were a droit to them, the Duke of Norfolk, Earl Marehil,
called before blui the Kings of Anns and Hcraldo, willing
them to bring to him, and shew him such precedents a»
they had for their [right therein : wliich they did ACcon^
ingly. Upon the sight of which precedents, the said
Duke awarded unto the said officers, in consideration of
the premises, the sum of 20/. Which sum, for redemplion
of the said horse and armour, was paid to the said com-
pany by the Earl of Leicester } and so discharged the said
Mac Williams,
IliiB Mac Williams, by the Lady Cheke, had Heiuy
Mac Williams, (who died without issue,) and five daugh-
ters ; viz. Margaret, n-ife of John L. Stanhope ; Susiui,
wife of Edward Sandeys, Esq. married again to GoJdard
Pemberton, Knight, and after to Thomas Ireland, Kiu^t;
Ambrosia, wife to William Kingswel, Knight; Cafisandim,
wife of Geoi^e Cotton, Knight; Cicilia, wife to Tbomaa
Bidgeway, Knight, Treasurer of Ireland. In short, tU*
gentleman, Mr. Mac Williams, was a Justice of Pmcc in
SIR JOHN CHEKE. 135
Easex, and died in December anno 1536. And so the si
lady Cheke was a widow a second time. But for some ^
description of her. Adq
She was a comely comtly lady, bred up in the Court Dcbc
from her childhood. In Queen Elizabeth's time was much t;]!^]
at Court, being one of the Ladies of the Privy Chamber, an
honourable station in those days. Nor was she backward
in taking her place of the other Court Ladies ; insomuch
that once, vix. in the year 1591, complaint was made of
the Lady Cheke by a Viscount's daughter (or, at least, so
valuing herself) to the Lord Burgbley, (that then held the
Eari Marshal's place by commission from the Queen,) for
that the Lady Cheke went before her at Court. This lady
compliunant was the Lady Frances Cooke, wife to Wil-
liam, a son of Sir Ajithony Cooke, Knight, and daughter of
the Lord John Grey, brother to the Duke of Suffolk. She,
by a letter, dated from Charing Cross the yeai' aforesaid,
•* humbly beaeeched him, as he was honourable himself,
" so it might please his Lordship to vouchsafe his honour-
*' able favour towards the house she was come of; which,
" as his Lordship best knew, was once not least honourable,
" tiiough, by misfortune, brought low ; whereof, it seem-
" eth," as she proceeded, "my Lady Cheke, to whom I
" never gave cause of just offence, taketh great advantage.
" For she doth not only offer me all the wrong and dia-
" grace that she can in Court, in taking place afore me,
" where it becometh not me, in modesty, to strive for it ;
'* but she openly publisheth to every body, that I have no
" place at all. Truly, my Lord, I sbould think my fortune
" hard, and my deserts ill, if my hap fall out to be put
" down by a woman of no greater bhrth than I take my
" Lady Cheke to be. [ hope her Majesty and your X^ord-
*' ship will make some difference between om- two births.
" And I trust, never having oifended her Majesty, that I
" shall receive that gracious favour from her, that I may
" still possess the place I did in my Lord my father's
'* time, and ever since his death, till of late ; which place
" I took as a younger Viscount's daughter."
k4
IS8 THE LIFE OF
CHAP. Ladies are apt to value themselves, and affect prece-
" dency ; and so, it seems, did these two : the Lady Cheke,
Anno 1&S7. as she was the relict of a Knight, sometime Secretary of
Mdeu/ dui ^*^^^' ^""^ ^ Privy Counsellor; and the Lady Frances
to 111* Ladj Cooke, as being the daughter of a son of a Marquis, viz.
t«>k™ Mar(|uis of Dorset, and younger brother of a Duke, viz.
Duke of Suffolk. Whereupon she gave her fether the
title of a younger Viscount; though, according to the lawB
of heraldry, she could not take place upon any of these
accounts : and therefore I am afraid the Lord Marshal's
decision went not for her, and the Knight's Lady had the
right of taking place; though, out of courtesy and respect
to her father, she had precedency in his life-time.
Yet, as she was daughter (and eldest daughter) to a son
and heir male of a Marquis, (his elder brothers being
dead,) as he claimed by bearing a label of three points in
his arms, and as he is styled in the inscription upon bit
monument in the chapel at Pyrgo, I leave to the Office of
Arms to determine what place she was to have on that
account.
^y . But 90 much shall suffice for the Lady Cheke, aiW I
draib and shall have brought her to her end. She was buried in the
nioiiumtnt- chancel of the church of St. Martin's in the Fields, about
iion. the year 1616; (that is, about sixty years after her first
husband's death, and twenty years after her second :)
where she hath still a very fair monument against the
north wall ; with a marble figure of her lying along, of
excellent work, and an inscription, wherein both her hus-
bands are mentioned, with their issue by her, and the
former with the title of Secretary of State to King Edward
VI. Which inscription is as follows; declaring her birth,
marriage, children, and quality.
Hie Jacet Maria Domina Cheke, filia B. Hill, Armig.
Ftemma pia el prudens, et qua; fiiit ad ohitum una Domi-
narum in Privata Camera RegintB Eltzabelha; {qua: fuU
ttinc ilignitaH in jtra-cipiio honors.) Nupta fuit prima
Jvhnnni Cheke, Militi, Alagistro, et Principali Secretario
SIR JOHN CHEKE. 137
Regis JEdwardi VL viro optimo et eruditissimo. Cut pe- sect.
perit Henrtcumj hceredem patemcB virtutis et Regies Mor- ^^^'
jestati a Secretis in Condlio Eboracensi; Johannem Cheke,Anno 1557.
virum egregium et magnanimum; et Edwardum Cheke.
Secimdo nupta Henrico MackwilliamSy Armigeroj viro
ex nobilissima familia Hibemorum. Cui peperity Sfc.
Fixit drciter 84 antds. Obiit Novemb. 30^ 1616.
Now to turn our eyes again to Sir John^ the husband of
her youth.
138 THE LIFE OF
CHAP. VI.
Sir John Cheke*s posterity.
SECT. I.
Cheke^s sons, three: Henry Cheke, eldest son; John
Cheke, the second; Edward, the third.
^^* THUS died Cheke in acloud; and his name. Once mort
jet flourish, honoured, much eclipsed by his infirmity. But his re-
pentance (which would have shewed itself more, had he
lived longer) must reconcile him to men of the like firail
nature; and his former singular merits will undoubtedty
preserve his memory fair and in credit with all candid
men. And the name of Cheke hath still lived in a posterity
of men of worth, sprung from him ; the family flouiishu^
to this day in wealth and reputation at Pyrgo, a noble seat
in the county of Essex, belonging to it ; purchased by Sir
Thomas Cheke, Knight, grandson to Sir John; and now
possessed by Edward Cheke, Esq.
His SODS. His sons were three : (for Dr. Langbain mistook mudi
when he wrote that he left no issue but one son, bearii^
his father's name :) their names were, Henry, John, and
Edward ; the first and the last probably so called from his
two royal masters, in grateful remembrance of their favours.
The continuation of his posterity depended upon his ddest
son, Henry; John and Edward dying without issue, at
least as far as I could ever by search and inquiry find.
John John was a youth of great hopes, comely and learned,
^' and of a genUeman-like and very obli^g deportment : of
whom also his uncle, the Lord Treasurer Burghley, took
particular care, making him one of his own family. And
upon his parting thence, in some employment abroad^ he
wrote a very courteous letter to Mr. Hickes, Secretary to
the said Lord Treasurer, as sensible of some kindnesflct
done him by the said Hickes. Among his other qualities,
he was courageous and brave ; which spirit carried bim to
SIR JOHN CHEKE.
139
, the wars in Ireland, to serve the Queen his mistress; where, si
in the year 1579 or 1580, he was unfortunately slain in an
engagement against aonje Italians and Spaniards that had*^'»
invaded that country for King Philip ; and was the only
man that fell by those Popish hands, as his father and
namesake before him had his days shortened by men ef
lilie principles.
For this gentleman had remained six years at least in His
the retinue of his uncle, whom on that account he called g^'!
his master; and being impatient to remain in this unactive his i
life, he resolved to push on his own fortunes, choosing the
life of a soldier. But his own mean circumstances hin-
dered him ; so that, having not wherewith to furnish him-
self out with a horse, he was fain to embolden himself to
ask for one of his Lordship; which he did in a modest
letter, dated from London, in July 1578, thus bespeaking
him : " That he found at that time nature and duty strave
" very much within him : the one, to procure importu-
*' nately that which might secure it safe ; the other, wiUing
" him to forbear to offend in craving, where he honoured,
" served, and feared : but that his Lordship had much en-
" couraged him, because he had not acquainted him with
" denials. He begged, therefore, for the safety of his life,
" and the increase of his reputation, to bestow his dun
" horse on him ; a horse which he cliiefly desired, be-
" cause, as he said, he was wedded to him for his gentle
" nature, and trust hi iiim, knowing his goodness, and
" would most willingly hazard his life on him. That ne-
" cessity forced him, and life willingly spoke for itself.
" He prayed his Lordship to favour him, and to forget
" that duty which he owed him that forbade him this ;
" since nature swayed more with him than reason, though
*' he feared more to offend his Lordship than any : but
" chiefly that his excuse might be, because he wanted,"
This was his style, and this his awful behaviour towards
hb uncle : and thus he set out like a soldier of fortune ;
and pity it was so hopeful a gentleman bad not better
140
THE LIFE OF
CHAP. Of Edward Cheke, Sir John's youngest son, I know
^'' little, but that Henry, his eldest brother, was, by his fe-
Edwurd ther's will, to pay him an annuity of ten pounds a year, 1
reckon he died young also : for I find the payment of his
annuity ceased after his brother had payed it him six
years.
SECT. n. ^M
Henry Cheke, Sir John's eldest son. ^^|
HENRY, the eldest, {who was nine years old at his
father's death,) was bred up to learning also, by the care
of Mr. Osborn, his father's friend ; and afterwards, for
improvement of his studies, was removed to King's college
in Cambridge, where his father was sometime Provost
Here Bartholomew Gierke, LL, D. {afterward that offi-
ciated Dean of the Arches,) an exquisite scholar, took
great care of his education ; under whom he made a good
progress. But to go a little back to the times before. In
the year I5(i3 (when he must have been but young, thkt
is, about fifteen) he wrote a Greek epistle to Cecil, his
uncle : wherein he mentioned the ancient friendship that
was between his father and him ; and that, for his sake,
he was a friend to those that were his father's Menda ;
and whereby he hoped also to ingratiate himself with him :
shewing him withal, that his estate was but small, uid
that his dependance must be upon his learning : and,
lastly, devoting himself to his service, and avowing that
he honoured him as his father, and hoped in him as the
stay and pillar of his family. And accordingly Sir WiUiam
Cecil took care of him also, and admonished him, that in
any need he should apply himself to him for his aid, and
promised that he would be ever ready at hand to do uiy
thing for him that might redound to his benefit. Aod
when he was at the University, he had a special eye orer
him.
By the characters that were given of him to hi* uncle
and patron, he did pairhare ; treading in his excellent
SIR JOHN CHEKE.
MI
father's steps, and, in respect of his probity and learning,
.surpassing others. Eartholoniew Doddington, the Greek _
Professor, who wan his companion, and, as it seems, his
fellow collegian, gave this character «f him, that he was a
■ yonth sitmmtE jtrolritaiis, ingetiii, studii, suavissimorum mo-
rum ; I. e. of notable goodness of nature, wit, studiousness,
and of the sweetest disposition. Dr. Clark, his tutor, wrote
frequent letters to Cecil concerning his nephew's good
proficiency in his studies. The UniverHity, out of a singu-
■lar love they bore to him, as well as their honourable re-
spect to Cecil, (who was their High Chancellor,) soon
gave him his grace for Master of Arts, and adopted him
into the rank of their senators in the year 1568, being then
scarce twenty years old, and that without any petition or
Buit of his made for it. Of this Dr. Clerk informed the
Baid Cecil, and withal prayed him to allow Henry to ac-
cept it, and to enjoy an honour the University had voted
him ; since, by his friends' advice, he was purposed neither
to accept nor refuse it, till he had the assent and counsel
of him, his said uncle. He took this occasion to commend
this young student for his parts^, spa.ke well of his religion
and piety, of his stayedness and modesty, his learning and
prudence ; in all which respects, he siud, one might behold
in him the express image of his best and most holy parent ;
and, that those his abilities might appear to all, the Uni-
versity had appointed him to dispute in the next Com-
mencement. And, lastly, that they had done this as a
testimony of their reverence to his excellent father, and
knowing the young gentleman to be the beneficiary and
candidate of the most wise Cecil. Thus was he made
acquainted ^vith all proceedings relating to Mr. Cheke.
To trace this gentleman further. About the year 1569 .M
or 1570 he marries ; fidling in love with Frances, daughter ^
of the Lady Ratcliff, who was wife to Sir Humphry Rad-
cliff, of Elstow, Knight, whose son Edward was Earl of
et pniJeDtiam spectes, omni n parte vidcbji in eo exprenun pitrii optimi ac
142
THE LIFE OF
Gnek.
Hit condi'
Sussex. Of this his affection he acquainted his uiicle Cecil,
to whom he confessed his love, but, notwithstanding,
without his advice he would not proceed. And his consent
and furtherance he seems to have obtained ; for he mar-
ried her, and had children by her.
In the year 1572 he wrote hia uncle a Greek epistle
congratulatory, upon his being made Lord High Treasurer,
dated from Elnest in Bedfordshire.
Henry Cheke's condition was somewhat strait, and his
incomes scarcely sufficient for his expenses. It appears,
those lands that Queen Mary made over to Sir John Cheke
were still held fast, either by the crown or private hands,
and not yet possessed by his heir : for, in one of his letters
to Cecil, he shewed him, that he had indeed some estate,
but not to be enjoyed without much trouble and expense
for the recovery, being gotten into other men's posses-
sions, and bis houses upon his farms much out of repair.
He petitioned the Queeu for his estate, and Sir WiUiam
Cecil presented and forwarded his suit. It was for the
manor of Hunden, iji the county of SulToIk. The fee sim-
ple was in his father, but now in the Queen, and she bul
promised hia mother to restore such things as were fail
father's. He set forth in his petition, that it was no pre-
judice to the Queen, but only losing the fine : for as to
the parks, they were more charges to her than she recdved
commodity by them. By this it seems to appear, that tbe
exchange before mentioned, between Queen Mary and Sir
John, was not completed at his death, or at least was not
enjoyed by him, though that Queen detained and enjojed
his lands so exchanged. Certain it is, that his circwB-
stances were at this time but short, and annuities went
out of his estate. He paid lOl. a year to hiw yuungol
brother, and 10/. a year to his schoolmaster; a gnUi^
common in those times from gentlemen to their ifistndo
ors. The remainder was 74G/. Gn. Sd. wh' '■ conic yekriy
into his purse. He was fain to make ao- ipgfik^^J^
lands by 6ucs; but yet, notwithst
hand, whatever his good huBban
SIR JOHN CHEKE. 149
qiiitted himself of houeekeepiiig, and paying for his board, sect.
by the courtesy of some of his friends; otherwise he muBt
have' fallen into extreme debt, and sold his land, as he
Bignified his case to his uncle Cecil: notwithstanding a
lease also, which be had of the Bishop of Winchester,
obtained by means of his said uncle, and Mr, Vice-Cham-
berlain.
For two or three years he and his wife and children Sojourns
resided in the country with some of liis friends there, vix. I>iends.
in the year 1574 at Wintney in Hantshire, and in 1575 at
Bear, in Bear Forest, in the same county.
The Queen was acquainted with his drcurastances, and He travels.
intended to take him into her service ; hut she would have
him first to travel, the better to fit him for it, which he
forthwith undertook. And to "fit himself out, he sold so
much land as yielded him 400/. the which yet served not
to maintain all his charge and expense abroad. In the year
1576 he went abroad, being now about eight and twenty
years of age. In this year I find him at Antwerp, hasten-
ing towards Italy, and comes to Genoa. In the beginning
of the next year he was at Florence, where he was in dan- His danger.
ger of his Ufe or liberty ; means being used to entrap him,
by laying in wait to catch him, with intention perhaps to
serve him as they had done his fether, out of a hatred
conceived to his name. He was advised of this by a cer-
tain English gentleman, who coming into the company of
one Stewkely, fi-om Genoa to ^iena, gave him warning to
seek some other place, and to look carefully to himself, as
one greatly noted by some of his countrymen, who had
spoken such words in his hearing, he said, as he might not
declare unto him the particulars. Upon which Mr, Cheke
thought fit to ask the counsel of an Italian friend, Seignior
Lorenzo Guicciardini, brother unto Vincenzo Guicciardini
of London; a grave wise gentleman, and very friendly
onto him, and of great credit with the great Duke of Tus-
cany. By his advice he resolved for Padua. So in the
beginning of April he took himself to Ferrara, and found
great difficulty to enter into the Duke's estate; forasmuch
144
THE LIFE OF
?, as being a neighbour unto the Venetians, (where the
plague then was,) he kept the passages of his territories
very strait. From thence he travelled to Padua about
the end of the spring.
r- His endeavour waa (among the pleasures of his travels
\^_ through this brave countrj') to attain to speak the language
truly and readily, which he hoped to do by Michaelmas ;
and then he should think he had spent that year profitably ;
as he wrote to the Irfird Treasurer. He noted various
things, and made his observations in his travels here. But
in the whole he made this remark, " That he had seen
" many notable cities, much rich soil, and great variety of
" states ; but in his opinion he had not seen any city so
" beautiful as Florence, any soil so rich as that of Lom-
" hardy, nor any state ao happy as the state of Eng-
" land."
He is at home in the year 1 579. How much sooner he
returned I find not. Now he resided with his family at
*' Occhani in Surrey. He daily attended the Court, though
with little or no salary, yet in expectation of some place
or preferment ; for which he ceased not, as he might with
modesty, to solicit hia uncle, the Ixird Treasurer, being hi»
highest friend, at whose hand he looked for his greatest
comfort in his necessity: for he had again lately sold some
more of bis land. He prayed that honom^ble person to
bestow upon him some office in possession or reversioD,
whereby he might reap some yearly commodity, to the
increase of his Uving. He was forced now, not by his un-
thriftinesH, but by need, to sell a manor, amounting b
yearly rent to the sum of 37^. 15s. lOd. as well to pay his
debts with part of the money, as to employ the rest in use
to the best advantage. His debts were contracted by his
late travel, and afterwards by his attendance at Court with-
out fee, and other extraordinary expenses.
But some time after, viz. in the year 1581, (when he
.{J almost now desptured of succeeding at Court,) by the in-
terest of the Lord Treasurer, he was made Secretary to the
Council in the north, in the room of one Rlyth, a very ho-
SIR JOHN CHEKR 145
iiest able man, deceased. The Earl of Huntingdon, Pre- SECT,
sident of that Council, wrote to the said Lord for Henry's *
speedy repair to the north ; saying, that he was right glad
of his promotion to that place : for though a worthy man
were taken away, yet he hoped a good one should succeed ;
so as the want of Mr. Blyth there was not like to be
missed, as else it would. But, he added, that he needed
not to commend him to his Lordship, who better knew
him, and could judge better of such than he. Besides this
office, he obtained the honour of knighthood also of the And
Queen his mistress. ^'''^^^^'
How long Sir Henry lived, I cannot tell : but I find one His death,
Thomas Cheke, (by which name Sir Henry's eldest son
was called,) in the year 1 586, writing a Greek letter and
Latin verses to the Lord Treasurer; therein calling himself
an orphan, and speaking of his father being gone to the
joys of heaven. And he prays his Lordship, that as he
was always an help and a sanctuary unto his father, so he
would be to him. And this I conclude to be Sir Henry's
eldest son, who might now be of the age of fifteen or six-
teen : and if so, then at this year we must fix the period
of his life,
SECT. in.
Sir Thomas Cheke^ son of Sir Henry. His honourable
posterity.
SIR HENRY CHEKE'S issue by his before-said wife sir Henry'.
Frances, was Thomas, his eldest ; Hatton, who followed ^^^^^
the wars in Flanders, and was slain in a duel by Sir Tho-
mas Dutton, Knight, near the town of Calais, (whose
corpse was brought over, and buried at Dover;) and
Henry, his third son, who died without issue, and was also
buried at Dover, near his brother Hatton.
Thomas being thus left a minor, was bred in a school sir Thomas
at York : where he had two memorable schoolfellows, ^***''*-
though of different inclinations and reputations. The one
was Morton, afterwards Bishop of Durham ; an excellent
L
146
THE LIFE OF
iberty m
and most learned Prelate, that wrote much and
_ against the Papists : the other, Guy Faux, infamous to
posterity for his unparalleled Popish zeal and villainy.
Thomas was knighted by King James I, and was then
styled Sir Thomas Cheke of the county of Lincoln, in
respect perhaps of his estate at Spalding in that county.
After styled Sir Thomas Cheke of Pyrgo, in the liberty of
Havering in Essex; being an estate which he purcl
of the Grays, and where he lived anno lfi34.
He married, first, a daughter of Peter Osborn, Esq^
very beautiful woman ; as her picture shews, preserved in
the long gallery of Pyrgo. To her he was married neai
twenty years, and had no issue. Afterwards he married
Essex, daughter of Robert lord Rich, Earl of Warwick. By
whom he had three sons, Robert, Thomas, Charles ; and
five daughters, Frances, Essex, Anne, Isabel, and Eliza'
beth. And living to a great age, waa buried, March 25,
1659, in St. Alban's church in Wood-street, {according to
his desire and will,) near his grandfather, in the i
chapel, without the furthest pillar, as appears by t
gister of the said parish. Upon the rebuilding i
church, in clearing the rubbish, the labourers thereabf
met with a grave bricked up, which probably was w
about his corpse. Of whose progeny, and the honoui
intermarriages thereof, partly Dugdale's Baronage,
partly the visitation books in the Office of Arms, (in one
book whereof is Sir Thomas Cheke's own testimonial,)
give this relation :
Robert Cheke was bom in the year 1 625. He HI
crooked, but a man of exquisite parts, and very d
the Lord Cranbom, eldest son of the Karl of Salisbury, i
sometime governor of one of King Charles the Second'*
natural children.
Thomas, who inherited the estate, called Colonel Cheke,
was Lieutenant of the Tower under King Charlirs IL and
King James il. He married, first, Dorothy, a daughter of
Philip Sydney, Lord Viscount Lisle, afterwards Eari of
Leicester; by whom he had no issue. He afterwards mar>
SIR JOHN CHEKE. U^i
ried Lsetitia, daughter of Edward Russel^ second son to SECT.
Francis, Earl of Bedford ; by whom he had issue Henry, ™'
who, living to the age of eight or nine years, died, and was
buried in the chapel at Pyrgo, besides other children dying
young. He had by his said wife a son named Edward, the
only son surviving, and now enjoying the seat of Pyrgo in
honoiu: and reputation : who married a daughter of Sir
William Ellis, of Nocton in the county of Lincohj, Bart.
The daughters of the said Thomas and LsBtitia are, Essex, .
tmmarried, and Anne, wife of Sir Thomas Tipping, of
Oxfordshire, Bart. This is the posterity male of Sir Tho-
mas Cheke, grandson to our Sir John.
The daughters of the said Sir Thomas were ,five, all ho- His daugh-
nourably matched : 1. Frances, the eldest, was married to thd'r^
Sir Lancelot Lake, of Canons, in the county of Middle- «^**^^*»'
sex. Knight. 2. Essex, the second daughter, was wife of .
Sir Robert Bevyl, of Chesterton, in the county of Hun-
tingdon, Knight of the Bath ; afterward of Edward, Earl
of Manchester, Lord Chamberlain of the Household to
King Charles IL by whom he had six sons and two daugh-
t«-s. 3. Anne, the third daughter, married to Richard Ro-
gers, of the county of Dorset, Esq* and after to Robert Lord
Rich, Earl of Warwick. 4. Isabel, the fourth daughter,
married to Sir Francis Gerard, of Harrow-the-hill in Mid-
dlesex, Bart. And 5. Elizabeth, to Sir Richard Franklin,
of More Piurk, in the county of Hertford, Bart.
Thus may we see the offspring of the righteous to flou-
rish, and our good and religious Cheke signally blessed in
a very honourable house and a flourishing descent now for
above an hundred and fifty years ; and his family spreading
in much noble blood to this day.
L2
THE LIFE OF
CHAP. VII.
Obtervations upon Sir John Cheke,
SECT. I.
His natural disposition, and the endowments of his mirtd.
Hi> qusiLfi- X HAVE finished the history of this eminent man, as to
the external appearances and events of his life. There
seems one thing yet wanting to be done, viz. to give the
world a true idea of him in his inward qualifications, and
the disposition of his mind : which may indeed in a great
part be gathered tram what hath been already said of
him ; yet^ for the giving farther satisfaction in this matter,
I shall add a few things more to all 1 have writ.
SoBwiMm- We must then, in the first place, declare him to be one
•* m™'> of the leaniedest and best men of that affe : and one of
of him. the most extraordinary wits : such as Providence raiseth
up now and then, (but very sparingly,) for great ends, to
be public documents and examples, and to do some extra-
ordinary service in the world. A very learned man in those
times, contemporary with Cheke, and one that knew him
well, speaking of these singular men, particidarly men-
Aich. tions him to be one; attributing unto him, " a wit quick
*■"" without lightness, sharp without brittleness, desirous of
" good things without new fan glen ess, diligent in painful
" things without wearisomeness, and constant in good-will
" to do all things well." And this, he said, he knew well
Dr. Wji- was in Sir John Cheke. And another in those times, aa
u"ofDe- gr^** ^ )^^^ of learning as he, sometime Secretary of
"""'- Ot»t- State to Queen Elizabeth, styles Cheke, " that rare learned
" man, and singular ornament of this land."
To make up the triumvirate to give their judgment of
our excellent man ; Nicolas Car, of Trinity college, Grvtb
Professor after Cheke, one of the best scholars in Cam-
SIR JOHN CHEKE.
14!)
bridge, styled him, " "One that did not exceed many in
" age, but aU in learning, and was esteemed the very top _
" of Cambridge men in every respect."
He had a mind, even from his tender yeara, much dia- H
posed to virtue and study. And as a great advantage and ^l
Bpur to both, he was educated under pious and wise pa- ^^
rents ; who perceiving the natural genius of the lad,
Bpared for no care nor pains to cultivate his nature, and
encourage hia good inclinations. Therefore, if we may be- st
lieve one of our historians, they appointed a German scho-
lar to take care of his younger studies, and a Frenchman
of his behaviour; the godly matron his mother following
%im with good precepts ; and this among the rest, that
" he should take care of three things, his God, his soul,
" and his company."
He was earnestly inquisitive after truth, and sagacious in
to find it. And this appeared both in the choice of his"*'
religion and of his learning; both being then overrun
with error and corruption : which his clear and searching
reason and parts soon discovered to him.
SECT. U.
His learning.
UNDER the topic of his learning, several things deserve Hii diii-
remark, as first, hia diligence.. He stood upon no pains^""*'
to inform his understanding, and improve his knowledge,
and to find out errors, and overcome them, and to restore
learning, and advance it higher than it ordinarily shewed
itself in the Universities, and amDng such as went in
those times for learned men. We are told, that King Ed-stat* wo
ward said to Cardan, the learned foreigner that came to""^''
wait upon him, " that he had two masters, Diligence and
** Moderation;" meaning Cheke for the fonner, and Cox
for the latter.
He eat not down contented in the present learning of smjies
• Qui ■
e pntarii. In Efiiil
150
THE LIFE OF
the Schoolmen, but had a mind to know what learning
_ was, when the Greeks and Romans flourished, bo cele-
brated for their learning. And therefore to compass that,
he sedulously applied himself to know the Greek language,
that he might the more thoroughly read and understand
the books of the learned Greek philosophers, historians,
orators, and poets. Which was an hidden sort of learning
then, and very rare. And herein he found a strain of
learning and language far beyond the present, which w»s
all barbarous and corrupt in comparison with it, A learn-
ing proper to instruct, and excite to live virtuously, and to
love and do just and worthy actions ; and also to enable
men to speak properly and persuasively in any at^iment.
And of all the Greek writers, he was most a lover of De-
,. moathenes, the Greek omtor; whose writings were so
noble, and his spirit and ratiocination so inimitable, that
he thought it pity none should be able to read him, but
such as could read Greek. This put him upon trantjLating
him (which he did many of his orations) into Latin, fur tbc
greater numbers to read, learn, and improve by.
And here I will set down his judgment of that orator,
and what skill he had in him, and why he judged him so
fit to be read and studied. And all this in the words of a
learned man in those days contemporary with him, vix.
Dr. Thomas Wilson, the learned civilian before-men-
' tioned. " The enterprise," siuth he, " of translating I>e-
. * " mosthenes into English, if any might have been bold lo
" have taken upon him. Sir John Cheke was the man of
" all that ever I knew, or do yet know in England : such'
" acquaintance had he witli this notable orator; so ghidy
" did he read him, and so often, that I think there wm
" never old priest more perfect in his porteise, nor super-
" Btitious monk in onr Lady's Psalter, as they call it, nor
" yet good preacher hi the Bible and Testament, than this
" man was in Demosthenes. And great cause moved Win
" 80 to be. For that he saw him to be the perfectest
" orator that ever wrote for tliis two thousand years «1-
" most by-past, (for so long it was since he was,) and al«o
SIR JOHN CHEKE.
" for that he perceived him to have before his eyes in iUl sect,
" his orations the advancement of virtue, as a thing chiefly "'
" to be sought for, together with the honour and welfare of
" his country. Moreover, he was moved greatly to
" like Demosthenes above all other, for that he saw him
" so familiarly applying himself to the sense and under-
" standing of the common people, that he sticked not to
" say, that ' none ever was more fit to make an English-
" man tell his tale, praise worthily in an open hearing,
" either in Parliament or pulpit, or otherwise, than this
•' only orator was,' " ITiese were the things Cheke looked
for from learning, that it might become truly useful to
human life, and this was the reason he so valued this
Greek author.
Another branch of his diligence, was his ingenuous Hi* emuic
emulation to be as learned as the best. A good quality in"""'
a scholar, when the great proficiency of others beyond
him provokes him to follow hard after, to arrive unto the
same perfections. Cheke'a first application of himself to
good learning was occasioned by John Redman of St.
John's college, (afterwards Dr. Redman, and Dean of
Westminster,) who had lived and studied in the Univer-
eity of Paris, and came over very accomplished in the two
learned languages : and by conversing much in the books
of Tully, became both an excellent philosopher and orator,
Redman's learning made him admired and much esteemed
by all : which Cheke and hia fellow Smith well observed ;
and being themselves truly addicted to their studies, took
occasion hence to pursue that sort of learning which Red-
jnan was become so eminent for. And thenceforth forsook
the common course of studies in the Universities then
used, wiiich consisted in the barbarous terms and idle
disputations of the modem schools and schoolmen, and be-
took themselves to the reading of good Latin and Greek Life 0/ Sir
authors, aa I have observed elsewhere. eil-'th*"
THE LIFE OF
Cheke considered as a critic.
NOW to look farther, and more closely iuto Cheke's
learning, we may consider hira both aa a critic and an au-
thor.
First, he was a good critic, and judge of learning, and
particularly of classic authors. To give you his judgment
- of two or three of them. Being asked his opinion of Sal-
lust, the Latin historian, he shewed his piercing judgment
of him by this censuj-e : for after he had said, " that be
"'■" was not very fit for young men to learn out of liim the
" purity of the Latin tongue, he gave these reasons, ti'a.
" because he was not the purest in propriety of words, nor
" choicest in aptness of phrases, nor the best in framing of
" sentences. And therefore, that his writing was neither
" plain for the matter, nor sensible for meu's uiiderstand-
" ing." And when Ascham, to whom he spoke this, asked
him what n'as the cause thereof, " Verily," said he, " bc-
" cause Salhii^t's writing is more art than nature, and
" more labour than art. And in his labour also too much
" toil, as it were with an uncontented care to write better
" than he could ; a fault common to vcrj' ninny men. And
" therefore that he did not express the matter lively and
" naiiually with conimon speecb, as Xenophoii did in
" Greek, but it was carried and driven forth artiJictally,
*' after too learned a aort."
no- Hence also we ma.y sec his approbatimt of that Greek
historian before mentioned; and upon what reason, ot».
because his style is so natural, and flowing with easy lan-
guage, accommodated without any great labour to every
reader, and whatever art he wrote with, concealing it.
He was a great admirer of Demosthenes, another Greek
"' author, esteeming hiin the ])erfectest orator that evw
wrote ; and that for this reason among others, that he ap-
plied himself so closely to the understanding of the com-
mon people, and cotdd so raise their iifrectiona ; and that
SIR JOHN CHEKE.
153
he drove mEunly at the promoting of virtuous undertak- sect.
ings, and inspired men with a great honour and love to '
their country, as was told before,
- So that these books, with some few more, {and it waa What boot*
no great matter if all the rest were laid aside,) were sufli- ",, "o" "
cient, in his judgment, to make a substantial learned man ; m*"''*''-
and withal to make him wise and good ; which indeed is
the true end of learning. For Ascham, who conversed
much with Cheke, reports, that he often heard him say,
" I would have a good student pass rejoicing through all
" authors, both Greek and Latin; but he that will dwell
" in these few books only, first, in God's holy Bible, and
" then join with it Tully in Latin^ Plato, Aristotle, Xe-
" nophon, Isocrates, and DemoHthenes in Greek, must
" needs prove an excellent man."
Another part of Cheke 's criticism consisted in his ex- Che'ke gave
quisite skill in imitation ; as a great part of scholarship ia J^iit^^^
seen in imitating well the good authors one reads. For
this is one of the great ends and benefits of reading, to at-
tain to those peculiar excellences of writing and speaking
that our authors were noted for ; an art not so easy to be
obtained ; for there is great difference between aping and
sound imitation. Cheke made great attainments herein,
and that partly by a curious obsen'ing how Tully imitated
Demosthenes : how lie retained thus much of the matter,
these sentences, these words. Again, how this and that
he left out, which he did willingly to a certain end and
purpose: how he added in one place, and diminished in
another ; how one thing he ordered one way, by placing
it here, not there ; and how he altered and changed either
in property of words, in fonn of sentence, in subwtance of
the matter, or in one or other convenient circumstance of
the author's present purpose. By these critical observa-
tions of his, which he discovered and explained to Mr.
Ascham, he was enabled to lay down certain rules for imi-
tation, which he did in his •ScAo/ar(TAa,or"Schoolmastcr;"schoD]mtist.
in which he wrapt up all the necessary tools and instru-'"'
ments, wherewith true imitation is right wrought withal
154 THE LIFE OF
CHAP, in any tongue. " Which tools," he confessed, " were not
'^"' " his own forging, but partly borrowed out of the shop of
" John Sturniiua, a le:arned foreigner, aiid partly left unto
" him by the cunning'est master, and one of the worthiest
" gentlemen that ever England bred," [meaning Sir John
Cheke.] " These rules," Ascham said, " he left to his
" children ; and as they used them right, he should be
" more glad," he said, " than if he were able to leave
" them a great quantity of land."
Hiijudg- Cheke had also an excellent judgment in trmulation,
transintioQ. *"<! * notable faculty that way ; a good and useful piece <rf
learning; to translate properly out of Greek into Latin,
and Greek or X^tiu into our mother tongue. To the
doing of which there must be a thorough skill in the lan-
guages, and a treasure of proper words and phrases and
idioms of speech. He had a practice relating hereunto,
which some of his hearers made a remark upon j ^baX
when he was reading Latin or Greek, he would often
English hiB matter upon a sudden, by looking on the book
only; without reading or construing any thing at all. A
Dr. WfiKin. usage, saith the remarker, very profitable for all men, as
well for the understanding of the hook, as also for the
aptness of framing the author's meaning, and bettering
thereby their judgments, and therewithal perfecting their
tongues and utterance,
WyUon'i Cheke's translations of divers seiect pieces of some of
Uon'of" ^^ ^A Greek authors into Latin, shew His skill this way.
Chekt'i And Dr. Wylson in some critical observations upon the
tioDi. Latin translators of Demosthenes, (as namely, Hiemo.
Wolfius, Chriatopherus Hegendorphius, Melancthon, Joa-
chim Camerarius, Petrus Clobardus, Nicolas Car,} gives
this character of Cheke ; " Mr. Cheke, whom I dare match
" with any other before-named, for his knowledge in the
" Greek tongue, having travailed in Demosthenes as much
*' as any of them all, and famous for his learning through-
" out Europe : yet [for I will not conceal what WyUon
" thinks fit to add] wa6 he never an passing in this tmu-
" lation, that no exception could be made aguuat him."
SIR JOHN CHEKE. 155
He was a critic also in the prmutnciation and ortkogra- SECT.
pAy of the learned languages. As to the former, viz. his
endeavour to make a reformation in the University, of aCorrecuthc
very bad and false way of sounding and uttering the Greektionof the
language, stirred up a great deal of dust, (as we heard ^'"™^ '"■''
partly before in the history,) and had not a few adversaries, °
who generally were of the elder sort, or favourers of Po-
pery ; and so dreaded any thing that looked like innova-
tion. The chief of these was Dr. Cains, who asserted,
that neither France, Germany, nor Italy owned any such
pronunciation. Cheke could not endure that noble lan-
guage, the Greek, to be so ignorantly read : whereby the
gracefulness of the sound of it was much impeached, be-
eides the palpable falseness of pronouncing, in confound-
ing the vowels and diphthongs one with another. But
I the Bishop of Winton, Chancellor of Cambridge, sided
with Cheke's adversaries, and made a peremptory decree
for the continuance of the bad way of pronouncing the
Greek. Hereupon a great controversy was begun be-
tween the said Bishop and Cheke; who, out of his love to
Greek, and the useful learning attainable by the study of
it, could not away with this decree. And seeing that all Eipostu-
bis pains, in instructing the sholars his auditors in this Gardiner
particular, was like to come to nothing, thought con-'''""'
venient to take iip his pen, and in an eloquent letter to Greek.
expostulate this matter freely with the Chancellor; yet
with all due deference to a person of his quality, and so
much advanced above him. The Chancellor in another
letter shewed all his art and learning, for the confirming
of his former order, and for the persuading and convincing
of Cheke, if he could.
Whereupon they entered into an epistolary conflict to- An episto
gether concerning this argument. Winchester contended ^'J^ ^""
to have the old way of reading Greek kept upon the au- ''■"««'> Wi
thority of custom. Cheke on the contrary urged the tiitke.
amendment of the sounds, because the old were certainly
false. Winchester warned Cheke, that he should not be- WintUej-
come an author to the youth, to frame any sounds, either ^ent,.
156
. of the Liitiii or Greek language by hiis own conject
_ other than what they had received from their ancestors, or
which the learned then retained. That he would not
be too much a Stoic in weighing of sounds ; and to re-
member, that as words, so also sounds, receive their au-
thority from use and from reason. Utere, added he, tmti-
quis moribus, verbis vera prcesenttbus, et multo magit
sonis; i. e. " Use ancient manners, but present words, and
" mueh more sounds," That he feared, if Cheke pro-
ceeded in these new matters, that he would turn Oim-
bridge into Babylon by a woful metamorphosis, or, if any
thing, be more confused than Babylon.
Cheke had objected, that letters and sounds were
changed and defiled in the last barbarous age, which it was
better to cleanse and restore, than to imitate. And for
this he appealed to Erasmus, and other learned men that
had taken notice of these errors. But the Bishop said,
" they did not shew a contamination in the aomids of let-
" ters, but a mutation only : which he acknowledged there
" was in the present sounds; but yet affirmed, that every
" change was not to be disproved ; and that the sounds of
" letters were more likely to be changed by the learned,
" [than the illiterate common sort,] sijice the learned were
" wont to take heed to euphony, [that is, agreeable and
" grateful somid,] whereas the vulgar regarded it not so
" much. And that Cheke being persuaded by a ridiculous
" collection concerning the use of writing, supposed all to
" be uttered that was written; and so brought in iipou
" the ears of the present age, that absurd and ill sound,
" which by fallacious conjectures he thought he had
" found to be that which the ancients used. He insisted
" upon that argument, that it was convenient and decent
" to pronounce according to the custom and mode of the
" present age, a new way of pronouncing words being »o
" surprising, and the reducing it to the use of the ai>-
" cients, offensive to people's ears." Thus when Cheke
would have the Greek T not pronounced like iwT« [as tbry
then used to do,] but HltP llie letter I', the Bishop, for «x-
SIR JOHN CHEKE. 15?
ample, brought the word KYSS, which he said no man :
would pronounce KUSS, the old rude way of sounding _
that word, instead of KVSS the modern way ; wlien people
for the more handsomeness of speech had moUilied the U
into I. And so Winchester would have had the way of
pronouncing the Greek U by I, to have been done, not ig-
norantly, but by judgment, and for the sake of urbanity.
The Biabop added a verse made by one Nic, Rowle, an old
contemporary of his at the Uiuvcrsity, who, being a witty
man, made a difference between a foul and a fair nuud,
only by the sound of the same word, virgo.
Si piilchra est nnco, sin turpis culgo voc.etur.
But that Cheke had no regard to this, whereby he made
himself ridiculous. Therefore where Cheke urged that the
way he endeavoured to bring in, was the reducing sounds
to their first and original truth, Winchester answered,
" * Let all things have their age and their youth, and as
" words do words, so let us allow sounds to succeed
" sounds."
Besides this, he laid to his charge arrogance and rash-
ness ; and added, " that it were much better, that the
" Greek language itself with its sounds were wholly ba-
'* nkhed, than that youth by his teaching should imbibe
" rashness, arrogance, and vanity, most peniicious pests
" to all the rest of the life. And he complained, that now
" by his means the young men insulted over the old ; and
" being guiJty <if an exotic way of pronunciation, made it
" a kind of delight, that they were not understood of their
" seniors. And all that he would allow the Greek Pro-
" fessor was, that in reading his Greek lectures, he might
" instruct his auditors, as concerning old words, so con-
" ceming the old sounds ; that they might knoxv them,
" but not use them ; that they became not ridiculous to
" all. In short, he charged him, that he were not the
" cause malum bene positum de lijco movendi, i. e. 'of re-
• Sit wbui omnibus lunin wniuni, sun jiiveiilus, et ill vrtba verliis, *if plimii
158
THE LIFE OF
'. " moving an evil well placed ;' especially when that which
_" he called evil being taken away, he had nothing tliat was
" good to put in the place of it."
ir- This was the substance of the arguments, ingenious
enough, that the Chancellor of the University used. But
'I"- Cheke, with a due deference, and yet with a scholarlike
freedom, learnedly asserted his reasons and refutation of
what the said Chancellor had writ with so much plausibi-
lity against all reforming of abuses iu learning, as well as
in religion. His business was to shew, how evidently
false the present way of sounding many of the letters and
vowels was. And then he thought no scruple could be
made, but that they ought to be rectified ; and whatsoever
was amiss ought to be amended, and not to persist in a
known error. And for example he shewed how in one
word, consisting but of three syllables, there were as
many evident errors in the pronouncing. As in the word
xu^epvai, which was commonly then pronounced chh'errto;
to wit, by mispronouncing all the three first letters, like-
wise in pronouncing oi the diphthong as the letter JitB,
whereby no manner of difference was made between two
different words in Greek, viz. XoifAo; pestis, and Xifiw
fames. And the diphthong that consisted of two rowels
was sounded but as one. At length he brought all these
on his side, vix. the authority of the ancients, the perpe^
tiud consent of the old grammarians, the benefit of learn-
ing, sweetness in speaking, perspicuity and clearness in
pronouncing.
" That he could not be 'convicted neither of rashness,
" boldness, nor arrogance, though the Bishop had laid it
** to his charge. Not of rashness, because he was ready
" to acquiesce in the judgment of the most learned and
" most ancieut men. \ot of confident boldness, in tlul
" he approved of the consent of almost all ages: nor of
" arrt^nce, if he refuted such things as were crept in un-
" justly and unprofitably, by the authority of eminent and
" knowing men.
•' That therefore he thought he slinuld be rather i
SIR JOHN CHEKE.
159
" rished and encouraged by him, their learned Chancellor, ;
" for his endeavour to reduce the Greek language to its _
" true antiquity ; and that he should have been assisted
" by his authority in the whole matter of antiquity ; since
" it appeared, that he was himself studious of aU anti-
" quity, and did with all his heart and will dislike and ab-
" hor all the innovation of later memory. For it was not
" novelty, to discover this way of pronouncing Greek
" words according to the truth ; since it was only inter-
" tnitted and Imd away for a time. Nor was this to inno-
" vate any thing, to introduce that -which was ancient and
" profitable."
He added moreover, " that such was his success, when
" he first propounded this reformation in the language,
" that it was received with much applause and commenda-
" tion ; and, except a few, that woiild rather aeem to be
" Grecians than were so indeed, all that either read or
" understood the language, were so convinced and well
" pleased with this true way, that they all used it. And
" the benefit of reading Greek this way was, that they
" that learnt it profited more in the knowledge of it in a
" year, than they did before in two ; and arrived much
" sooner to an ability of speaking and writing it; which
" took up a very long time before. And this the experi-
" encc of some years shewed. That there was so much de-
" Kght and sweetness now perceived in Homer's or So-
" phocles's verses, by reason of the variety of sounds and
'* modulation of the numbers, that no music, no lute could
" be more pleaiiant. Further, that this that he [Cheke]
" did now in the Greek, was no more in effect than his
" Lordship himself had done, when he resided at Cam-
" bridge, and was Reader of the Civil Law there ; at
" which time he endeavoured commendably to purge that
" study ; and turned the minds of the students thereof
" from the Glosscmatarians: and thereby he ran into great
" offence of some, and had great contention about it.
" That this opposition by many in the University, to
" the right sounding of the Greek, seemed to spring from
160 THE LIFE OF
CHAP, "a dislike of the language itself. As some in the age«
" past were jealous of all the learned languages, Latin,
" Greek, and Hehrew ; and affecting ignorance rather.
" When the Latin tongue began to be replaced, it was
" received not without great commotion, and indignation
" of men's minds, The Greek language was odious to
" many, and yet it is; and some there were that dis-
" couraged youth from the knowledge of it. The Hebrew
" hath its reprovers, that the study of it puts the learner's
" fame and reputation into danger. That it was but a few
" years ago, but he that spake hotter Latin than tlie rest
" was esteemed as arrogant, was derided as rude. When
" in truth this came to pass, not by the fault of the
" speaker, but the fault of the hearers. Nor was it any
" such misery, to be laughed at by such, who indeed are
*' themselves ciiiefly to be laughed at ; because they know
" not what it is they deride : and as usually naughty per-
" sons seek occasion in the best things to make sport, so
" wise men do not regard so much to accommodate t
" selves to the opinion of the multitude."
I have been lai^c upon tliis point ; and that parttyil
cause this reforming the Greek pronunciation is one o
chief things redounds to the honour of Cheke's memory;
and partly, that the reader may be entertained a little with
the fine spirit that ran through Cheke's discourses.
Here I may subjoin a merry story, that Richard Cheny
(afterwards Bishop of Glocester) lold to Sir Williara
Cecil, concerning this ill pronouncing of Greek, which
Cheke, as we heard, laboured to reform. Tliat he, the
said Cheny, had lately been at Oxford, (it was about the
beginning of Queen Elizabeth's reign,) where this contro-
versy of pronouncing Greek had floivn from Cambridge to
that other University. There he had some conversation
with certain learned men ; among «hom were Dr. Bnbing-
ton, Dr. Wright, Archileacon of Oxford, and the Provost
of Oriel college. Discourse happening concerning the
tnie way of pronouncing Greek, and they stiffly defending
the iiKtml manner of pronouncing it ; Cheny replied. " Re-
port, so
1 thQ^^_
eofffl^
SIR JOHN CHEKE, 161
" ware, my masters, that whilst you wilfiilly go about to SECT.
" defend an untruth m this matter, you fall not into such '
'^ an inconvenience as I once knew a Bishop do/' And
when they would know how and where, he said, he sat
once at table with a Bishop that did as you do, defend the
untrue pronunciation of the letter ^ru, [that is, as loura,] ,
and that after he had declared many absurdities that fol-
lowed thereon, he desired him to read a few words written
in the xxviith of Matthew : the Bishop immediately called
for the Testament in Greek : Cheny appointed him a line or
two. Where among other words he read these, *HXi, ^x),
XatfjLci aafioLxioLvij " Making false Greek," saith Cheny, " but
*^ true English ; pronouncing plainly, / /y, / /y." Where-
upon, not without mirth. Dr. Babington presented Cheny
with Cheke's book of that argument.
Another piece of that exactness that was in Cheke ap- His cnre
peared in his care about orthography, that is, for true and'j^jJ^^Vra!
right writing, as well as pronouncing. And here both the phy of La-
Latin and our mother tongue fell under his correction. As
for the Latin, that it might be spoken truly, and the syl-
lables in reading pronounced long or short, according to
their nature, he devised a way to write the vowels accord-
ing to their quantity. As the long vowel O, after this
manner, eo, like a Greek omegOy as in itxwrem, libercos. And
the long I with two tittles over it, as in divinitus. And as
for the long E, especially the diphthong, which before was
commonly writ as the ordinary E, he put a tail to it, as in
lector: and so I find he wrote in some of his letters; yet
I observe in his writings after, he did not so much regard
it, excepting the E diphthong.
And whereas the writing and spelling of our English And of
tongue was in those times very bad, even scholars them- "^ " '
selves taking little heed how they spelt, (as appears
both by the MSS. and books then printed,) he endea-
voured the correcting and regulating thereof, in these re-
spects following: 1. He would have none of the letter E
put to the end of words, as needless and unexpressive of
any sounds ; as in these words, excus, giv, deceiv^ praiSy
M
162
THE LIFE OF
n : unless where it is sounded, and then to be writ
_with a double E, as in necessitee. 2, Where the letter A
was sounded long, he would have it writ with a double A,
in distinction from A Ehort ; as in matui, sfraat, daar. 3.
Where the letter I was sounded long, to be writ with a
double I, as in desUr, liif. ■!, He whoUy threw out the
letter Y out of the alphabet, as useless, and supplied it
ever with I, as mi, sat, awai. b. V long he wrote with r
long stroke over it, as iii presiim. G. The rest of the long
vowels he would have to be written with double letters, ss
weer, theer, {and sometimes t/iear,) noo, noon, adtio, thorn,
loov, to avoid an E at the end. J. Letters without sound
he threw out; as in these wordB,/rM(e«, woldjfaitt, timit,
again for against, hole, meeti for mean. And 8. changed
the spelling in some words, to make them the better ex-
pressive of the sounds ; as in giid, britil, praisalnl, »nff'fT-
abil.
And here I must add, that he laboured much in the re-
. Gtdration of our English language. Dr. W'yison before-
' mentioned asserted, that he had better skill in our Eng-
lish speech, to judge of the phrases and properties of
words, and to divide sentences, than any else had that hf
knew ; and that he was thought, by some judicious meti,
greatly to have improved the language by a pmctice he
had, when he read his Greek lectures, to take the book,
and only looking upon the Greek, to read it into English :
whereby he did not -only give a clearer understanding of
the author, but enabled his hearers the better to judge of
the things, and to perfect their tongue and utterance, as
was remembered before.
What he did further for the English language was, that
he brought in a short and expressive way of writius;,
lot without long and intricate periods. And moreover, in
'l„ writing any discourse, he would allow no words but »ach
as were true English, or of Saxon origuial ; suffering no
adoption of any foreign word into the English speech,
which he thought was copious enough of itself, witfaont
borrowing words from other countries. Thus in his oini
SIR JOHN CHEKE. 16S
translations into English he would not use any but pure sect.
English phrase and expression: which indeed made his
style here and there a little affected and hard ; and forced
him to use sometimes odd and uncouth words, as de*
siirfulj ungrevous, tollers for publicans^ Sfc; which per-
haps might occasion that rude' character Sir John Hay-
worj gave of him, ^^ allowing his eloquence in the Latin Hapirard'a
** and Greek tongues ; but for other suflSciencies, so far as q^^I^^I^
** it appears by his books, pedantic enough/* A censiffesured.
too rash upon a man of such fame and learning, and indeed ward\i. *
bespake Hayward to be but little acquainted Mdth him or
his books; being far otherwise thought on by those
learned men his contemporaries that well knew him, and
wanted not for skill to judge of men. But to return where
we were, that indeed was Cheke's conceit, that in writing
English none but English words should be used, thinking
it a dishonour to our mother tongue, to be beholden to
other nations for their words and phrases to express our
minds.
Upon this account Cheke seemed to dislike the English Goes about
translation of the Bible, because in it there were so many faSon of the
foreign words: which made him once attempt a new^ewTesu-
translation of the New Testament ; and he completed the j^. .j^^^
Gospel of St. Matthew, and made an entrance into St.D. c.cc.
Mark; wherdn aU along he laboured to use only true *
English Saxon words. The original under his own hand
still remains in the MS. library at Bene't college, Cam-
bridge. A specimen whcfreof, for the reader's diversion, I
shall here set down.
The common translation. Cheke*s translation,
MATT. I. MATT. I.
17. So aD the generations 17- Therefor from Abra-
from Abi-aham to David are ham unto David there wer
fourteen generations ; and fourteen degrees ; and from
from David until the carry- David trato the out-peopling
ing away into Babylon are to Babylon, fourteen dc^- .
M 2
1G4
THE LIFE OF
fourteen generations, and
_ from the carrjiiig away into
Babylon unto Christ are
fourteen generations.
18. Now the birth of Je-
sus Christ was on this wise.
When as his mother Mary
was espoused to Joseph (be-
fore they came together) she
was found with child of the
Holy GhoEt.
19. Then Joseph her hus-
band, being a just man, and
not willing to make her a
public example, was minded
to put her away privily.
20. But when he thought
on these things, behold, the
angel of the Lord appeared
unto him in a dream, &c.
CHAP. n.
16. Then Herotl, when he
saw that he was mocked of
the wise men, &c.
grees; and from the cot*
peopUng to Babylon
Christ, fourteen degrees.
out*
18. And Jesus Christs
birth was after this nort.
After his mother Man was
ensured to Joseph, before
thei weer cupled together,
she was prelved to be with
child ; and it was indeed by
the Holi Ghoost.
19. But Joseph her bus-
band, being a juat man, and
loth to use extremitee to-
ward her, entended priviii to
divorse himself from her.
20. And being in thii
mind, lo the angel of the
Lord appeired bi dream, &c.
CHAP. n.
It!. Then Herod
that he was plaid withal
the wise-heards, &c.
4
lUf; inipr
cd by
Cbafce.
Yet one may observe in this so over-laboured a tranBkr
tion, (as I may term it,) he is forced to make use of seveisl
words of foreign derivation.
Add this lastly to the rest of the regulations Cheke oiade
''of the English, that he brought in fair and graceful writiD;;
by the pen, as he wrote an excellent, accurate hand himself.
And all the best scholars in those times practised to write
well. So did Sndtli and Cecil, and especially Aschan);
who, for hix exqiusite hand, was the person appointed tt
teach the Lady Elizabeth to write. So that fair wrilil
and good learning seemed to commence together.
SIR JOHN CHEKE. 165
SECT. IV.
Cheke an author. His writings.
AND as our learned man was furnished with all good Cheke's
learning, so he occasionally wrote upon several, both ^^^ ^°^*
learned and pious subjects for the general good; namely,
in divinity, as well as other human learning. The cata-
logue of his books and writings, prmted or unprinted, is
^ven us by the author of the Heroologia ; and Dr. Lang-
bain follows him ; but taken by both (or at least by the
former) out of Bale's Centuries ; and that imperfectly, and
erroneously in some things, and withal displacing the order
of them. I shall present them as they lie in Bale, and add
some cursory conjectures and observations upon some of
them.
1. De Pronuntiatione Gr<Bca. This was writ in Latin,
and afterwards printed; and was nothing else but the
learned letters that passed between Cheke and the Bishop
of Winton, concerning the pronouncing of Greek ; which
being printed at Basil, were entitled, De recta Li^igutB
GrueciB Pronuntiatione.
2. Damna ex Seditione^ i. e. "The Losses by Sedition."
This was writ and printed in English, for the public ser-
vice of the kingdom in a rebellion anno 1549; and the
book (which is well enough known) is entitled, 7%e faith-
ful Sufjject to the Rebel.
3. In quosdam Psalmos.
4. In Psalmumj Domine prohasti. These, I suppose,
were nothing but some pious meditations of his.
5. De Fide justijkante. Against the Papists, no ques-
tion.
6. De Eucharistice Sacramento. Whether this were
his disputations with Feckenham against transubstantia-
tion, or something else, it is uncertain to me.
7. In Obitum D. Anthonii Dennei; beginning. Cum
claras honiinum vitas. This Sir Anthony Denny was bred
at St. John's college, an excellent scholar, and a person of
M 3
THE LIFE OF
CHAP, great worth, whose merits raised him to be one of the
bedchamber to Henry VIII. and one of his Pri\-y Council.
The deserved esteem Cheke had for him, as well as an-
cient acquaintance with him, miide him honour his me-
mory with an heroic poem : which shall follow by and by.
8. Super 3Iortem Buceri. This perhaps is his epistle
to Peter Martyr, Bucer's dear friend, consolatory concern-
ing his death. It is printed in Bucer's Scriptu jJagHcana,
and elsewhere. Unless it should rather mean the Kpice-
dium, which Cheke bestowed upon that most learned di-
vine; which shall be set down among lus epitaphs, to
preserve as much as we can of the worthy man we are
giving the history of.
9. Epitapbiorum Hb. 1 . This one book of epitaphs, or
inscriptions and verses iijwn persons deceased, means no
more, but according to Bale's way, that these epitaphs, if
they were all collected, might be sufBcient to make one
book. Of this sort, besides his verses upon Denny and
Bucer, were probably the nioimmental inscriptions upon
his patron, Dr. Butts, in Fulham church, and upon Richard
Hills, his wife's father, buried in the church of Queenhith,
mentioned before. And hitherto may be reduced an Eng-
lish elegy, wherein the sickness of King Edward, together
with the circumstances of time and place, and his death, is
described, (if we may helievc it,) and was printed, anno
Hffooiogifl. iGlo, by H. Holland, as he tells us himself.
Hii poetry. For he was no stranger to poetry. What his abilitiei
were in this art, may be seeo by these funeral verses
some of his friends ; which I have retrieved, and think
amiss to preserve, as some further remains of bis studii
Marix Cicellx Sororis Checi, l/xuris D, GuU. Ctctlli,
EpUapkUim. Qute olnit Meiue Febrttario, an. I)om.
1554.
'OsTtA T^{ Maf/af SiriXAi); hiait xtlrai
nvfUfia rtXiurwn); xufio; aura; ^rt,
'H irarpef fJTf a's t* ayatt'i*, kvS^i^ t iyaS<M.\
SIR JOHN CHEKE. 167
In Obitum D. Martini Buceri. sect.
IV.
Fita gravis miseroy gravior mors; sed HM tanto '
Mors nee vita potest esse, Bucere, gravis.
Fitafiiit Christus, mors lucrum; vivere cessas
NaturcBy ac Christo vitaperennis adest.
j4lmajides Christie quam tu super astra ferebas,
Te super astra eadem sustulit alma fides.
Cumque tui mores, pietas, doctrina probentur.
Mors tua non gravis est, et gravis est eadem.
Mors gravis est nobis, orbatis lumine tanto,
Non gravis est tibi, quce vita beata tibi est.
DoctfiniB stadium, vitije constantia, mortis
Mantus, O ! idem sit mihi, Christe, precor.
In Antonium Deneium clarissimum virum.
Carman heroicum.
Cum claras hominum vitas modulata Thalia,
Gloria quos celebreis altum in subvexit Olympum :
Aptaret digitis numeros ad carmina suavis,
Certaretque alias cantando vincere Musas ;
Interpres subito divum Cyllenius alis
Prcspetibus venit, in medium seque ingerit agmen :
AtqiLe inter mediae illas est deinde locutus.
Nata Jovis, medium tu nunc abrumpito carmen,
Argutos nunc linque sonos numerosque fluentes,
Te vocat omnipotens Genitor divumque hominumque,
Te manet ad citharam doctus crinitus Apollo,
Te manet et reliquum ccelestis turba Deorum.
Desine nunc laudem veterum, et clarorum heroum.
Sunt molienda tibi nova carmina, plena laborum,
Queis poteris veterum laudes superare canendo.
Materiam nacta es claram, te pulcher Apollo
Invito^, vireisque suas in carmine jactat :
Altemis tecum contendet versibus. Ergo
Sume animum, depone metum, pnestantia quanta
Sit tiM, declara : poteris vicisse canendo.
Deneiu8 venit ad superos mortalid linquens,
Britannos inter clarus {laus maxima quorum est,
M 4
168 THE LIFE OF
CHAP. Omnes quod vera sint relligionis amantesy
' JEt pia vota Deo fcuAunt, Christique sequantur
Doctrinam, Sanctis longe lateque patentem
Scripturis, parvo totamque volumine clatisam.)
Quis dignam illiusfactis vocem, quispromere verba.
Possit, et excelsas laudes cequare canendo f
QucB pietasj et quanta viri? Quis fervor in ilia
Melligionis erat ? Quam purus cultus in ilia
Ccelestis patris f Quanta in Christum Jidei vis
Extitit illius sacrata morte redempti f
Munera quce rursum ? Quos et libavit honores
Justiticcque speique Deo ? Qucb victima laudis
CcRsafuit? grati cordisque orisque diuma
Hostia, quam scope est hominum divumque parenti
Oblata in Christo. Christinam haud immemor unquam
Hie fuitf propter divinam sanguine fuso,
Mortem mortales qu(^primum condliavit,
Peccatif scelerisque ruina^ et pendere presses.
Quid memorem Henricum claro de stemmati Megentj
Henricum Octavum terrce marisque potentem ?
O ! quibus hie studiis, quo ilium est amplexus amore
Quem sibi subfectumque bonum, servumquejidelem
Scribatf et officia hcsc haud parvo munere pensans,
Ostenditf se herumque bonum, regemque benigtmm.
Consiliumque lepos quantum superadditus auget,
Etjuvat optatas ad res bene confidendasj
Hie alios tantum superat, quijlectere mentem
Henrici potuitj miscens nunc utile dulci,
Seria nunc levibus texens, nunc grandia parvis.
Quamfacilem cur sum hie aliis ad vota sequettda
Feceraty atque aditum multis facilem patefeck f
Quam bona multa aliis, et quam mala nulla cuiquam
Intulit f Et laudem summam virtutis habebat
HujtiSj qui nullos nee apertos l<Bserat hostes.
[Hie desunt multa.]
Hie ubi dicta dedit, celeri turn concita cursu
Festinatj cytheramque novam vocemque Thalia
SIR JOHN CHEKE. 169
Prceparat, ingenio divesque, et carmine felis, sect.
Atque Jovis magni ad solium^ Divosque ptdentes '
Advolatj et vibrat tremulos ad carmina nervos.
Totum compleri turn Divis undique ccelum.
Cemere erat, late sparsos ita congregat alia
Vbxque sonusque DecB, suavisque ad carmina cantus.
Tmn ccelum reboat totum j magnusque per alta
It clamor plaususque Deum plaususque heroumf
Nervorum ^diumque soni concentibus implent
Omnia, suffitu redolent et mascula thura,
Electra et molles aspirant pinguia odares.
Omnia Deneium resonant cytharceque Deique
Istos sic meritis claros accepit honores.
10. De Nativitate Prindpis, i. e. " Of the Nativity of
" the Prince." This the author of the Heroologia will
have to be a panegyric upon his nativity. I rather con-
jecture (for neither of us, I believe, saw this tract) it was
some private calculation of Prince Edward's nativity, as
Cheke studied that art, and built too much upon it.
1-1. -dfn licet nubere post Divortium, i. e. " Whether a
^^ woman might marry after a divorce." A case much
handled in those times. And this seems to have been a
case put to him in behalf of a great lady, whose husband,
being a nobleman, had obtained a divorce from her.
12. Introductio GrammaticcB.
13. De Jjudimagistrorum Officio. Both these seem to
have been vmt primarily by him for the use of the Prince,
to whom he was schoolmaster.
14. De Superstitione. Ad Begem Henricum. A very
learned treatise. This was a discourse drawn up upon the
argument of superstition^ for the use of that King, in order
to the reformation of religion, which in his reigfl was
much pestered with superstitions. This was set by way
of dedication before his translation of Plutarch's book of
that argument, and vmt in a very elegant Latin style.
The book is extant in the library of University college,
Qxon, curiously vrrit, and bound up in cloth of silver:
170
THE LIFE OF
CHAP, which makes it very probable it might be the very book
that he presented to the King: as hatb been signified to
me by Mr. William Elstob, a Fellow of that college ; now
the reverend and learned Rector of St. Swithiii's, London.
This is now published in English at the end of thia work
by hia care.
15. De Cvieribus el Palmis. ^d fintonieiisem. Gar-
diner Bishop of Winchester was earnest with the Lord
Protector for the retaining the old usages in the Church,
and particularly sprinkling ashes on Ash Wednesday, and
Acu and carrying palms on Palm Sunday. There is a letter of ids
"'"'"■ writ to the Lord Protector on that subject. Perhaps the
said Lord put Cheke upon giving an answer to that letter.
To these books and tiucts mentioned by Bale, I add these
not mentioned by him :
IK. De Ecclesia; an potest errare: i. e. "Of the
" Church ; whether it can err." Wrote in Latin, yet ex-
tant among the Foxiaii MSS. It is an argument learnedly
managed by him against the Papists. Wherein he pro-
ceeded ujwn these questions : Whether there be a Chureb ;
what the Church is ; and whether it can err.
17. His Epistles. Whereof several are extant; as \m
Epistle to Peter Martyr at Oxford, concerning the death
of Martin Bucer. Another letter consolatory to Dr. H»d-
don in his sickness, very pious and devout, besides diven
others before mentioned.
IS. Hia two recaiilaiio/is might have been mentionod;
but that in truth they were no further his, than as he ut-
tered them with his mouth, hut did not compose them.
19. Another branch of his labours be his translations.
Some whereof were done out of Greek into Latin: nnd
several undoubtedly for the use of his roj'al scholar, viz.
\, Ditfers pieces of St. Chrysoatora : as, De Fato, homilite
tres; De Providentiu, hom. tres; Coulrti Obsenatom
Novilunii, hom. 1 ; Dr Dorittientibtts in Christo, hom. 1 ;
together with other pieces of that ancient Father. U. Jo-
sephus's Antiquities, &ve books. IlL Leo de ^pparalu
Jtellico, Ub. I. This Leo was the Emperor Leo V. who
SIR JOHN CHEKE.
171
writ a book in Greek, Of the Slights and Policies of fFar, sect.
From Ascham we have this account of the book, and Cheke'e '
translation of it: "That it was a rare book aeldome heard Totoph.f.
" of; that Cheke dedicated his translation of it to King
" Henry Vlll. while he was at Cambridge ; and that of his
" gentleness would have Ascham very- oft in hia chamber,
" and for the familiarity he had with him, more than many
•' other, would suffer him to read of it when he would.
" The which thing to do," Ascham saith, " he was very
" desirous and glad, because of the excellend handling of
*' al things that ever he took in hand." Ascham, Eng.
Works,^. 104. IV. j^sceticum Maximi Monachi, lib. 1.
V. Plularclms de Superstitione, lib. 1. VI. Several pieces
of Demosthenes ; as bis Philippics, lib. 3, His Olynthiacs,
lib. 3, Adversus Leptinem, lib. 1. Demosthenes and
^^schines, their adverse Orations, lib. ] . VII. Sophocles,
translated ad Uteram,y\h. 1. VIII. Euripides also, lib. 1.
IX. Aristotle de Aiiima, lib. 1. All these out of Greek
into Latin,
Other of his translations were out of English into Latin;
as the Archbishop of Canterbury's book of the Lord's Sup-
per: this book was printed abroad. The Communion
Book : this was done for the use of Bucer, that he might
understand it, and give his judgment of it; it is extant
in his Opuscula Anglicana. And lastly, out of Greek into
English, he translated the Gospel of St. Matthew, before
spoken of.
Add to the rest of his writings and leanied labours, that
he collected the arguments and reasons of both sides,
upon the business of the Eucharist in Parliament : where
that point was learnedly and largely debated, when the
Communion Book was appointed. He also made some
corrections of Herodotus, Thucydides, Plato, Demosthenes,
Xenophon, and other Greek authors. This is all we know
of the fruits of his learned head, though no question this
catalogue is very imperfect, and that he did write much
more than we at this distance know. But this is sufficient
to inform us what a scholar he was.
L
172 THE X-IFE OF
CHAP. Cheke also translated the New Testament into English,
^"' with annotations; which was printed both in octavo and
decimo sexto^ but this last without the notes ; which copy
Christopher Barker^ Queen Elizabeth's printer, gave to the
Company of Stationers anno 1583, with some others, for
the relief of the poor of the said Company ; as appears by
Penes me. a MS, relating to the Company in these words : *^ The
^^ profit and benefit of the two most vendible volumes of
^^ the New Testament in English, commonly called Mr.
^^ Cheke's translation, that is, in the volume called octavo,
^^ with annotations as they be now, and in the volume
^^ called decimo sexto of the same translation, without
^^ notes in the Brevier Elnglish letter onely.
^^ Provided that Mr. Barker himself print the said Tes-
^^ taments at the lowest value, by the direction of the
^^ Master and Wardens of the Company of Stationers for
^^ the time being. Provided always, that Mr. Barker do
^^ retein some smal number of these for divers services
^^ in her Majesties Courts, or elsewhere,"
SIR JOHN CHEKE. 173
CHAP. vm.
Some observtttions upon Sir John Cheke's religion and
principles. His fortune and his fall. The Conclusion.
SECT. L
Cheke's religion.
Jl5UT that which advanced the value of Cheke's learning How Cheke
was, that it was seasoned with religion and the fear ofi^^p^J]^'
God. This sanctified his learning, and put him upon
study, to render his parts and abilities useful for the pro-
moting and doing of good. To stay therefore a little upon
4hat great consideration of him, mz. his religion. Upon
good and substantial grounds, he was a hearty professor
of the reformed religion, which he took not up upon a pre-
carious account, or any secular reason or interest; but
upon mature examination and trial of the principles of
that religion that generally swayed, and was professed in
his time. He, being of an inquisitive philosophical mind,
first of all began to doubt of the great distinguishing Po-
pish doctrine, That the. body and blood of Christ is sub-
stantially and carnally present in the Sacrament ; because
he saw it so far beyond all possibility of being reconciled
to reason and sense. Afterwards also, he heard other
learned men call this doctrine into question, by inquiring,
whether those words, that the Papists built their doctrine
upon. This is my body^ were not a figurative way of
speech, as many other expressions were in Scripture, or
were to be understood in the very letter.
And for the better enlightening himself, and satisfying His course
his mind in this controversy, he took the right course, viz.^. ^"^jnn
to examine the Scriptures, which were the word of God ;
and likewise the ancient Doctors of the Church, that had
their writings still extant. Many places, .both in them and
in the Scripture, he found to impugn that opinion, and to
174 THE LIFE OF
CHAP, favour the figurative sense. He considered also, i
whprens the literal sense made all men, and particulariy
the Jews, to abhor the doctrine, and consequently the re-
ligion too ; the other sense would take off that abhorrency
out of their minds. Then he became confirmed in this
opinion of the spiritual sense, partly by reading the late
books of the learned Germans, and observing what num-
bers in those parts fell off from Popery, and partly by tak-
ing notice of the providence of God in this realm, that is,
in King Edward's days, wherein this doctrine was gene-
rally embraced; and all masses and other auperatitions
rejected, and thrown out of the Church. He oliserved also,
how the Scriptures were more studied by learned men,
and well examined, niuch beyond what was done in for-
mer UmeB, when that doctrine was less doubted of: and
he concluded, that it was brought in when men began to
fail from the study of the Scriptures, and gave themseJve*
to their own inventions, which was in the days after the
Apostles and primitive age ; and that as men grew more
and more sla^k and loose in their lives, and sensibly fell
short of the primitive Christians, so they sunk further into
errors and mistakes in religion. And observing, how in
the latest times the Clergy was visibly and fearfully apo-
statized from the holy lives of the ancient Fathers; and
gave themselves to other studies, almost wholly neglecting
the study of the Scriptures, (whereby they became by God's
just judgment blind,) and that as the study of the Scrip-
tures came into Germany and other parts, so more li^t
in matters of religion came in with it; upon these firm
and sure grounds, he concluded that the faith he stood in
was the true faith of the Catholic Church. And all this
was but the sum of what he confessed at his recantation ;
but was forced to revoke it, and to acknowledge it to h
been the very ground of his nuining into error and bei
SIR JOHN CHEKE.
SECT. U.
His religious practices,
AND his life bore a proportion unto hiB principles. He His Mfr,
made it his business to do good, and to help persons in
necessity, and to promote works of charity. For these
ends he used hia uiterest with the King, whensoever there
was occasion, or application made to him. He was one of
the three, Cecil and Cook being the two other, (to which
we may add Sir John Gates, the Vice-Chamberlain, for a
fourth,) noted for their furthering all good causes at Court,
that respected either rehgion or learning. Hence it was,
that Bishop Ridley called him " one of Christ's principal
" proctors,"
When the reverend Miles Coverdale, anno 1551, wasFonwdi
appointed Bishop of Exeter, an excellent and able preacher fj^^^.J^""
of the Gospel, and thence judged -very fit to govern the bminess.
Church, and to preach in those western parts, much over-
run with Popery and ignorance, and to settle matters of
religion there after a dangerous rebellion : yet notwith-
standing his business stuck at Court, whereby his going
down was hindered. Cranmer, Archbishop of Canterbury,
was troubled at these delays, and sent a letter to Secre-
tary Cecil, joining Cheke with him, to get this business
ba&tened; that so he, the Archbishop, might have order
for his consecration, (which some, it seems, obstructed,)
and so he might go down imto his bishopric, which, the
Archbishop said, needed him. And it was soon after des-
patched.
But to poor strangers, chiefly divines or scholars, that Charitable
had fled their country for the preserving of their religion, ^^5"^^^
and had left friends, and habitations, and Uvelihood, for
the sake of their consciences ; to these he had a special
compassion, and was their sure friend. There is a letter Ia GKeii
have seen in Greek of Cheke's writing to his brother Cecil, I'/^j'J^ ^^
in behalf of a poor foreign Bishop, whose name indeed I
cannot retrieve, but he was one that came over into Eng-
\/
176 THE LIFB OF
CHAP, land, and seemed to have business with the Protector, and
VIIL
__L« applied himself first to Sir John Cheke: whose cause he
espoused, and wrote earnestly in his letter to the said
Cecil, who was now Master of Requests to the Lord Pro-
tector, to get him speech of the said Protector, and to^ as-
sist him in his matters ; adding, that what he should do
for him, should be as well taken as though it were his
own business. This was, I suppose, some poor p^secuted
Greek Bishop; and that to be the reason why Cheke
wrote his letter in Greek, that this Bishop, who was the
bearer of it, might understand the import of it; which,
being short, I shall here insert.
Aeo/jia/ (rot aieXfe ^/Arare ^otfifiv tox/tm tm xoLkmxayaim Mpi
irrKTK^cp ^ivcpy ctntifao^ ^yvoviiievco, 6e\st wpoivfjuos ld§iv xei XaXfa
fji,iTci Tou irpOTixToopos^ (TV de el ayriAafb/Savei^ raov TrpayfJiJn'ooiv au-
ToS, ovTcos ^oLpUv iFoi^a-ets fjLOiy w$ ay eTi} roL irgiyfJMTa jxoO* tp^oo^o
tJ SsxaTij Tou oxTojSpou. * AfTifoLCfiiJMt T^v a$f A^^y fto5.
T(o aie>^ avTOu xcp Fot/AieA/toi SiereAAcp 6 <rog aSiXfig
TOO hvXep Kov UgoTeKToopos sv (^^^* 'Icoavwis Kjxo^.
Which is thus in English ;
" I pray you, dearest brother, to help this good honest
^^ man, a Bishop, a stranger, needy, unknowh. He would
willingly see and speak with the Protector. If you arc
assisting to his affidrs, you shall do me such a &vour, as
" though the business were mine own. Farewd the 8th
" of October. My commendations to my sister.
To my brother Mr. Will. " Your brother,
Sicell, servant to the L. " JOHN CHEKE."
Protectory in Shene.
CommQni- Another point of his charity appeared, in that he was so
S^owiedg.. communicative of his learning and knowledge : an excel-
lent disposition observed in some persons of the greatest
learning. This generous spirit of his was taken notice of
by one who had received great advantage by it ; namely.
Dr. Wylson before-mentioned : who occasionally speaking
to Cecil concerning Cheke, after he was dead and gmie,
SIR JOHN CHEKE.
177
had these words: " As the remembrance of him ia dear sect.
" unto me, for his manifold gifts and wonderful virtues ; so "'
" did I think of his moat gentle nature, and so good dis-'^pi'^-Dedi-
," posed mind, to help all those with his knowledge and J'uoiihenr
"understanding, that any ways made means unto bim,o™t-
" and sought his favour. And, so I say for myself among
" others, I found him such a friend to me, for communi-
" eating the skill and gifts of his mind, as I cannot but
" during my life speak reverently of so worthy a man, and
" honour in my heart the heavenly remembrance of him,"
It must be remembered for another branch of his piety. His tcsi for
his earnest care to promote the true knowledge of reli-*^g^"'"
gion, and the profession of it : for as upon good and sure
grounds he was convinced, and abundantly satisfied of the
Reformation of the Church of England, us it was settled
and eatablished under King Edward, so he laboured all
that he could, that it might get more and more ground.
And he was a notable instrument at the Coxirt, to forward
it in the minds of the young nobility, as well as in the
yomig King : which was one of the causes of the anger of
Queen Mary's courtiers against him^ of all others. And I
cannot but think, how all succeeding generations in this
kingdom are beholden to him, under God, for the settle-
ment of that mighty blessing of the Protestant religion
among us, by the means of instUling such good principles
of sound Christianity in the head and heart of that peer-
less Prince, his royal scholar.
And how fast and firm the impressions of religion were,
that be made in that good King, there is this remarkable
instance. When upon ends of policy, as the grati^ing
the Emperor Charles's request, the Privy Council inchned
to yield, that the Lady Mary should have the Mass said
in her chapel, however it was abolished by statute, Arch-
bishop Cranmer and Bishop Ridley were sent to the King, Archbiihop
to signify, that it was the opinion and desire of his Ma- 1^™°"^*
jesty's Council, that it should be allowed her for a time, him,
vid that he would condescend to it. And for his aatisfac-p^i'jg,*^ '
tion in point of conscience in this matter, tbey propounded
178
THE LIFE OF
. certain reaBons to him. But the King, on the other
_alleged Scripture for the contrary; and that so fiilly to
the purpose, that the Bishops allowed the same to be true.
They descended then to other arguments to persuade him,
as the fear of breaking off good friendship with the Em-
peror, and what evils might succeed to the realm by wars
at that time. To which the good King again replied, that
he was ready to spend his life, and all that he had, rather
than knowingly go against the truth. But the reverend
men stUl endeavouring to satisfy the King in this point,
as, that it was but for the present necessity, and but a
little time, the pious Prince hurst forth into tears j and
they could not forbear to weep with him ; and so took
their leave. Mr. Cheke was not far off, being always near
his person: the Archbishop taking him by the hand, as be
passed, said, "Ah! Master Cheke, you may be glad all
" the days of your life, that you have such a scholar."
Adding, that " he had more divinity in his little finger,
" than we have in our whole bodies," More divinity,
in the theory and the practice too. And this
in a great measure to Cheke's instructions.
SECT. lU.
C/teke's forhmes.
I
ei HAVING seen Cheke in his abilities, and in the fliBpo-
sition of his mind, we shall in the next place observe him
in his fortunes. Which were various, as usually the con-
dition of men in Princes' Courts are, be their virtues uid
merits what they will. For as his learning preferred tiim
to honour, so he several times felt the effects of a cour-
tier's life : and often therefore wished heartily for a retire-
ment ; though that would not be granted him. But by
the conscientiouB and prudent discharge of his duty to-
wards the Prince, he was entirely beloved by him. .And
as he instructed that most noble Prince, and brought him
to great perfection in learning, knowledge, and religion,
beyond his years; so a constant sense of gratitude and
SIR JOHN CHEKE.
17!>
love possessed his mind towards hia schoolmaster. He sect.
had the favour to stand by the King's side at his chapel, '
when he was present to hear sermons : which was the "," ^™"'
cause that he was once brought in an evidence at the ex- King.
amination of Bishop Gardiner, concerning a sermon which
he was appointed by the Privy Council to make : wherein
he should declare for the satisfaction of others, concerning
the King's power and authority in his minor age, to wit,
that it was equal, and of the same effect, as when he
should be grown up to man's estate; which the Bishop,
after he had preached his sermon, was accused not to
have done. Whereof many witnesses were sworn to tes-
tify : and among the rest Mr. Cheke, who said, " that he
" was personally present at the aaid Bishop's sennon,
" standing beside the King's Majesty's person ; where he
" might and did perfectly hear the Bishop."
In short, the King was a grateful scholar, and Cheke Teiiimoniei
r was a wise instructor, that had acquired the right method "■ "" '
of instilling knowledge into the mind of the royal youth,
while he did it with that ease and gentleness, as raised a
love, not a hatred, (a thing that often happens to school-
masters,) an esteem, not a disaffection towards his teacher.
For how many testimonies of his good will did he heap
Tipon him : bestowing on him ample possessions of landa
and revenues : taking him into his Privy Chamber, confer-
ring on him the honour of knighthood ; and at last making
him a Privy Counsellor, and actually constituting him one
«f his principal Secretaries of State, and that when there
were two Secretaries already, which was hardly ever be-
fore or since done.
For these are the words of the minutes in the Council '^'"''f »
"Book; "Anno 1553, Jun. 2, Sir John Cheke was SM'om srcretary.
"and admitted one of the principal Secretaries of State, ^'"K '^"
" Petre and Cicil being continued." And June 1 1, all three Cmmeti
Secretaries sat in Council. **" '
And among the rest of these greater gifts of the King, I T'le Kins
must not forget the mention of one smaller, a token yet of hij clock.
•the love he had for him ; and that was of his own clock,
180 THE LIFE OP
CHAP, by which it is probable his Majesty with his schoolmac
!^had studied many an hour. This clock, which he gave
him, 1 can trace for two or three removes. From Cheke
it came, whether by gift or otherwise, into the bands of
Dr. Edwin Sandys; who, being Bisbop of Worcester in
the beginning of Queen Elizabeth, about the year I5(i3,
made a new year's gift of this old clock to Cecil the Se-
cretary. " Which," he said, " he was sure he would the
" rather accept, because it was his old master's of happy
" memory. King Edward, and after, his loving and kind
" brother's." Thus Cheke stood fair and Bouriahing in
the days of King Edward.
SECT. IV. ^1
His fait. ^H
■t BUT upon his dear master's death, farewell all his
'' happy days. And be is willing, out of a hearty love of
true religion, to part with all his honour and all his
worldly substance, and become an exile with a great
, many more noble and learned men. But his greatest mi*-
fortune, that fer outweighed all the rest, and left some
stain up(»n his memory, was, that he was prevailed with
by fear and terror, and other temptations, to renounce his
religion with his lips, and in such an open and formal
manner to disclaim that good profession, which be had
shewn 80 much zeal to before. And what shall we say for
him ? It was somewhat strange that he should deny and
abjure that religion, that he bad upon such mature study
and consideration been grounded in. But neither bad hU
philosophy nor grace (which is much more) furnished
him with such a degree of courage, as voluntarily to meet
death, how good soever his mind was. Cbeke's falling
may be considered to he of the nature of the Discipiro'
fall, when they forsook their master Christ in his suf-
ferings. Which a very learned man mollified by sayii^,
" that that fpivruLa r^s o-o^xi;, i. e. that lusl of the JUih,
" that rebelled against their mind at that time, was not of
SIR JOHN CHEKE. 181
** those grosser dregs of the affections towards riches and sect.
'' sensual pleasures, and such like things; but desires very — ill.
^^ natural ; as the care of life, and the avoiding of sorrow
^^ and pain. ^And they were in the rank of those per-
** sons, who, as Aristotle * saith, are overcome by violent,
^' excessive, and overpowering griefs, however they strive
'^ against them. Which he saith is especially (rt/yyvoojxovi-
^ xov, i. e. that may admit of pardon."
Finally, therefore, in such cases as these, we should not
censure too hardly, but rather say as Archbishop Matthew
Parker writ upon this poor man's recantation. Homines
sumus, i. e. " We are men;" or as one John de Hoo, an
Abbot of old of Vale Royal, being a meek and compassion-
ate man, used to say of those that were guilty of such
frailties,
Peccantes dampnare cave, nam Idbimur omnes^ Monaitio.
j» • 1 . » . Anglic.
^ut sumuSf autfutmus, velpossumus esse guod htc est toI. a.
Condemn not thy poor brother^
That doth before thee lay ;
Since there is none but falls :
I have, thou dost, all may*
V 3
o
TREATISE
OF
SUPERSTITION,
/Oy OOt, Ycr/C^y ^ fij...4x^
n4
TO
THE REV. MR. STRYPE.
SIR,
X HAVE sent you the English of that excellent frligment
of Sir John Cheke concerning Superstition^ which in Latin
has that elegance and masculine force of style and judg-
ment^ that is worthy of its author. The habit it now vi-
sits you in^ is what the donor in his present circumstances
could fit it with^ not such as it deserves. But you inti-
mated a willingness to take it for better for worse^ and
must not be worse than your word^ though some late avo-
cations would not permit him to be better than his. As
to the original discourse^ it appears to have been a Dedi-
cation of the author to his Sovereign Lord King Henry
the Eighth, before that little tract of Plutarch concerning
Superstition, which he had most elegantly translated out
of the Greek. But the Dedication would have itself con-
tained a more complete treatise on that subject, had the
favourers of the Popish cause been able to answer the
force of those arguments, with which it so strongly shook
their metropolis, and which no doubt would have been
insuperable, had they been allowed to have remained hi-
therto upon record. But such is the nature of that set of
men, that what is wanting to them in reason, is made
up by that diligence which they use, to uphold so weak a
cause, as could never have been able to subsist so long,
without an unwearied caution, that omits nothing that
can any way yield to its support.
It is much to be suspected, that for this cause the
[ 186 ]
reader will have occasion to lament the loss of sonic
shcetB in the following treatise, which the Komaiiistt), not
caring they should look them in the face, have despatched
with their usual sleight of hand. For you know they are
famed for legerdemain, and are noted for a clean couvey-
imce. This might be done upon the 6rst revolt to Popeiy
in Queen Mary's days ; but more probably in that of later
date : when their celebrated champion Ob. got this MS.
into his power. And it is no wonder, if he who bad so
good a knack at concealing, as to hide his religion for
so many years, should afterwards manifest an equal dex-
terity in suppressing arguments against it.
The design of the Dedication in the original is congra-
tulatory to his then Majesty, King Henry the Eighth, upon
his reformation of religion, and the victonee, glories, and
blessings that ensued thereon, agreeable to what he had
observed to have happened in the like case to the several
pious kings in holy Scripture. And were it not some-
wliat out of countenance in this change of habit, it might
with niUL'h better grace address itself to her sacred Ma-
jesty that now is, wiio is a most undoubted friend to the
reformed religion. Yet one who seeks not refonnation by
distracting the revenue of the Church ; but that deiightjt
in doing true and real honour to God, by providing for the
true welfare of his Mniisters. It is this that fills our
hearts with so much joy, and our tongues with praise to
Almighty God, for successes obtmned by our most reli-
gious Queen, greater than those of her predecessore :
whose steady example in religion, and judicious deport-
ment in all the parts and offices of it, will, we hope, hate
that blessed influence, as to shame all manner of superatH
tion from future converse amongst us, equally discoin
[ 187 ]
ing that kind of it, which pretends to be afraid of doing
too much, and that which fears to do too little. I mean
the superstitious pageantry of Rome, and the ^rdid su-
perstitious meanness of the several sects. Which could
not, through the grace of God, fall short of having that
happy eflTect, which is so much her Majesty's earnest de-
sii^, and should be the endeavour of us all, our being
united at homey nor of putting an end to those divisions,
from which alone the Queen's enemies and those of our
religion can have any hopes. Such, as if her Majesty's
royal pattern and advice can sway any thing with us, we
shall think ourselves concerned not to countenance in the
least. And surely no man of reason will reject her pious
admonition and example, who has either any value for his
own and the public good, any loyalty to his Queen, or
any honour for the name of God, who is most highly dis-
honoured by every kind of superstition. Now that all
would thmk of thus behaving themselves, and be admon-
ished by such discourses, was no doubt a very good reason
for your desiring in this manner to publish this treatise,
and of his complying with that desire, who is
Your assured friend,
and obliged humble servant,
W, E.
To the most illustrious and most potent Henry the Eighth
, of England, France, and Ireland, King, Defender of
the Faith, and supreme Head upon earth of the Churches
of England and Ireland. John Che/ce wisketh much
health.
J.T ia the effect of great ingenuity and judgment, (andGn
perhaps proceeds not merely from human nature, but from ^■
dirine grace,) to be able accurately to separate truth from thii
falsehood, and to distinguiah between things decent and
dishonest : for so great a resemblance is there between
the most distant things, and such a seeming agreement
between those things that are of natures really differing
one from another, that unless the best and most excellent
disposition shall be enlightened by learning and superna-
tural grace, and be cultivated as it were by continual exer-
cise, it will be impossible for things so much entangled and
confused to be parted and discerned by it. Craftiness imi-
tates prudence ; severity is often taken for justice ; boldness
has a semblance of valour; stupidity is not easily distin-
guished from temperance ; pride draws to itself the com-
mendation of magnificence ; and not oidy the pretence of
holiness, but what is even almost a mere old wives super-
Btition, puts itself ofT for religion, and for the true worship
^God.
- And as it usually comes to pass, that swollen bodies, Ar
and such as are coloured by art, do exceed the solid bulk *"!
and natural colour of bodies; and as thoae things tbatpei
have been tinctured with bull's gall are not far from having
a kind of golden lustre; even so, such things as are in
their own nature vicious, and have nothing excellent in
them, have nevertheless the figure and appearance of things
the most illustrious and magnificent. Concerning which
there is a diligent caution to be had : and we should labour
with our utmost study, that the one be not taken for the
190
A DISCOURSE
other ; and that those things being quite passed by, tLat
have the express characters of honesty, and the image of
truth, we do not totally give ourselves over to catch at the
shadows and resemblances of things. Therefore, in the
ordering of religion, we ought to be very cautious and
circumspect, that we do not through carelessness mo
headlong into any rash judgments and opinions ; and that
we yield but so far to the bent of our own genius, as not
to turn out of the right way tliat God has prescribed,
without framing new modes of worship for ourselves ; or
endeavouring to appease God with such things as he has
either not commanded to be done, or left not to be en-
joined. For if even those things which are of divine pre-
script are not capable of pleasing God, unless they shall be
done as he would have them ; what human reason invents,
what superstition dictates, what the heat of a man's tem-
per liurries him on to pursue, must needs be much fiirther
from pleasing God, when these things neither have any
means of rendering themselves grateful to him, nor, if they
had, could they merely of themselves be worthy (rf the
divine care.
But there is nothing that is of so great moment, as to
■ the whole eoncem of this or a future life, as religion:
tohicft iHsiritctn us m the right discipline and method of
life, and of the worship of God; and does alone rompre-
liend the hopes of a future immortal state. And what is
there preferable to this ? What thing can come in com-
petition with it? What is there that either in point of ad-
vantage, or divinity, or safety, can approach or come op 10
the least part of it ? For that which as soon as we seek
after it, is not only found with as much ease as othcr
things ; but does, over and above besides itself, draw along
with it other good things, that are the greatest, and mmit
abundantly such : shall we not thiniv this chiefly to be laid
hold of, and pursue it with our utmost care ? For to what
other end should we labour with all our might, than thai
having obtained those things that are greatest and moct
happy, we ourselves ahoidd have a full enjoyment of tn»e
and perfect fi^Iicity, as constantly and long as may t
OF SUPERSTrTION. 191
inasmuch as mankind is both naturally inclined to wish
after it, and the grace of God does likewise call upon us
to embrace it. But the religion which ia now proposed by t hrisfi
Christ, and that is manifested to all degrees of men ; which '^'''B">"-
ifl neither hidden from the good, nor concealed from such
as are studious, nor ia harsh and difficult to those that fol-
low after it ; it is not only most easily sought out, but is
even revealed to us. Which being oiiL-e possessed, what
can be wanting, that may seem to any man worthy of
being desired, when wanting ? what can be present to him,
that he shall think greatly deserving to be wished for?
■For even our Saviour Christ has told us, that religion being
first laid hold of, other things will not with much labour
be brought in, hut will naturally follow of their own ac-
cord. Seek ye first, says he, the kingdom of God, and allMatth.
these things shall he added unto yon. For if he who has^'' ^^'
^ven ua Christ, will with him likewise give us all things,
' xince in Christ are all the treasures of wisdom and of
^knowledge ; how will he not, who through him hath made
secure the way to peace and reconcilement with God,
teach Tis also the way, whereby things less considerable,
*nd of lighter value, may either flow in nnto us without
4abour, or he present without trouble, or be taken from us
wthout sorrow? But if Solomon, upon his request of
wisdom and judgment, to enable hun to distinguish be-
tween right and wrong, had so great an addition of riches,
^wer, and glory bestowed upon him, as none of his
[ancestors had ever seen, and aa did never again shine
lorth upon any of his posterity; how great things God
lAlmighty will give those, who, in the true and pious wor-
ship of him, have given up themselves wholly to seek after
^m; who have prepared themselves to hear his divine
voice, and \vith their whole will and study to live after it!
Xlertmnly it cannot be, but that whatsoever they require
\ipon any occasion, they nmst have just so much, or what
they at present hare, be it never so little, yet they require
no more ; either of which, if they have once arrived to,
-tJiey are most happy : inasmuch as they ture of a quiet and
'contented mind; and it is a thing indifferent to them,
Q
TREATISE
OF
SUPERSTITION,
^y Soi, ^'(rfL.2v ^ fu^u^
n4
194
A DISCOURSE
in uxe
been recommended to Almighty God. And in the ful
discourses of men, the mention wliich shall be made
religion will a\tol the memory of what you have done, nnd
the often commemorating the fame of your ample praises
and commendation, will hring in tlie discourse about reli-
gion. Whereby it conies to pass, that since the advantage
of religion is of so large an extent, and since in many
places of Scriptiire it has both the promises of this present
life, and of that which is to come ; they take a good and
prudent course, who, laboming not unfruitfidly in the
lesser things, and in the single parts of religion, have
bestowed all their pains, study, industry, and age, in the
thorough reformation of religion, which is aa it were
mother of all virtues.
But since things of a more excellent and noble
, are not so much desired by wise men, that they may
the real possession of them, as they are sought after by
the imprudent, that they may induce an opinion of their
having them into others; and many are not voluntanly,
but through mistake, drawn after a corrupt resemblance of
things, and are not easily diverted from an opinion thai
has taken deep root ; a greater care and industry is to be
Imd out in giving a right tincture to our minds, than in
sowing our fields. And principal caution is to be uaed,
lest in matters of greatest moment and advantage we dtfacr
slip through error, or are drawn aside by passion, or hur-
ried on by imprudence : but of all things there is nothing
surrounded with greater difQculties, or is beset with thin^
of more different natures than religion. Which being the
pure worship of God, for the retaining his favour, and tlic
averting his wrath ; revealed and prescribed to us by Go<i
himself, and not the device or invention of human couiiwl ;
the greater earnestness that is used by good and bad men,
to be and to appear religious ; so more and greater will be
the contrivances and machinations of men, (if through the
difficulty of the thing, or through ignorance, they ctumut
attain it,} to make boost even of the shadow of it by »ci-
ence, falsely so called ; or pretend to it through hypocmy,
OF SUPERSTITION. 195
or set it off by affectation, or make shew of it by innova-
tion, or by following it give it strength. Now of this rdi- Two parts
gion, since there are two parts, the one of which is placed^ " ^'*'*'
in the searching after knowledge, and in the tracing out
of these things which are grateful and wiell-pleasing unto
God; but the other is employed in action, which puts for-
ward into life and performance, what she understands to
have the divine approbation. Each of these parts is on all
sides surrounded with so many evil and vicious motions,
that being intercepted as it were in the midst of its ene-
mies, it comes in danger of quite overturning and distract-
ing all religion.
But that all may be set in better order before our eyes,^Ug*on^
and that our whole meaning may more cleaiiy be distin- ^*'^'
guished, not in reality and science only, but in express
terms and words, we shall so make use of such words as
are not indeed very frequent hi Scripture, yet well enough
suited to the genius of our own times, as to call that part
which consists in a thorough inqmry into the divine will, ^
and the method of pure worship, by the name of sanctity; Sanctity, or
and that which is altogether active, and which applies ^w^J*
itself to the fulfilling of that,«which by sanctity it under-
stands will please God, we may name piety. But that*P»«5y»
which in this place I call sanctity, is that knowledge which diTinity.
is a kind of foundation-principle of human life, and of all
our actions ; and which being once well laid, if the whole
ordering of our lives be built upon it, and all things flow
out of it as from a fountwi, we shall have nothing vicious
or corrupt, nothing vain or hypocritical : but if that igno- igrnonuMe.
raaee, which is opposed to sanctity, pours out such dark-
ness upon the mind of man, and draws such a cloud over
it, that it cannot discern that light of truth, which sanctity
uses to look into ; let men's devices and contrivances be
as they please, and let them hug themselves in them as
much as they will, yet can they not be able to fi«e them-
selves from error, rashness, and deceit : for besides that it
is a most base thing to be ignorant, when man is purposely
framed for the knowledge of God, and the comprehending
o2
196
A DISCOURSE
him in his mind ; so QotluDg can be imagined more i
coming and diahoDom^ble, than that be should volantarily
make choice of being ignorant, who is cominanded to be
I Pet. Hi. prepared, and ready to give a reason of that faith tchicfi it
'*■ m him. For if the benefit of Christ is so highly lo be
esteemed, that the verj* knowledge of him is etemid life,
how earnestly is that ignorance to be avoided, that docs
most of all obstruct us in our passage unto God ? And if
Pakd, in all bis epistles, gives thanks tliat they are filled
with knowledge, that they abound in all science, aiid in all
wisdom ; with how much labour ought we to deprecate
and drive away from us such gross ignorance and ihidi
darkness? But that is not the only ignorance, which,
knowing nothing, does not think itself to know any thing.
Which, although it is a fault, because it ia ignorance, a
nevertheless a tolerable one, and more easily to be excused.
But that is a far more grievous and infectious kind of ig-
norance, which either knows things corruptly, and is full
DFpnrrd of crror. Of pretends to know what it does not. This cor-
now ge. juptjpi^ Qf science, is when some opiniative person does not
' V much inquire what it is the Scripture does confimn, as ho«'
he may by novelty of invention, or subtle distinctions, ei-
ther weaken what is abeady established, or break through
and crumble the whole in pieces ; and rests upon his own
notions, and not the Scriptures ; and thereby causes many
specious and plausible errors, which, grown old with time,
are scarce extinguished by their age, or tiiken away by his
authority, who says. Ye err, not knowing the Scripttirtt.
He opens not the school of Christ, but sets forth a doc-
trine of his own, different from all others, and repugoaul
Herny. to the truth, which is named heresy. For the truth, whid)
cannot be other than what it is, being deserted and abaa-
doned, he takes up with every new thing he has a nuod
to ; nor does he follow the Scriptures, as of necessity he
ought, but pursues those fancies and opinions that ought
PntcDded least of all to come under his choice. The pretaict a
■ htftwledge is that which, having no knowledge or b
tion, does imagine itself to comprehend idl things, I
ntledgt. .
OF SUPERSTITION. 197
into the force of all arguments, and the reason that infers
thrar conclusions. A delightful error to the authors, but
most dangerous to the Church, hurtful in the very delight,
and splendid in the wickedness itself; and deceiving itself,
it thinks to instruct others ; making shew of wisdom, it de-
tects its own want of knowledge. And when it appears to
itself to have the clearest insight into things, yet even then
knows nothing as it ought ; and being involved in the
thickest darkness of ignorance, believes itself placed in the
clearest day-light. It may in this place be styled that''!'''''"^"
bragging of the Gnostics, which we may term arrogance, Gnania.
and the tumour of science. We may therefore make a dis- '^ '"^^""''
tinction of these three kinds: That ignorance is like to mute.
those, whose eyes do not admit the light, who love dark-
ness, and cannot endure the day ; as we see it usually falls
out with owla, and persons that are sick. There is another »■
sort, who, whatever they see, they think it to be larger
than it really is, as in a mist it commonly happens ; or
judge those things to be of one colour, that are of several.
Ab those who behold any object through a coloured glass,
have all things represented to them of the same colour
with the glass through which they appear : and as those
who are sick of the jaundice, having their eyes overflowed
with choler, think all things appear with a saffron hue. As,
third kind there is, which mistake the thickest darkness
for brightest day-light ; and these men think nothing is or
can be better than their own conceptions and tenets.
Such are they, who spend all their age in Plato's Cave.
So that it comes to pass, that mortal men do less perceive
the Ught of knowledge and sanctity, while every entrance
or passage, which to sanctity ought to be laid open, is
either intercepted or stopped up. Which things are so
much the harder to be avoided, by how much the miud of
man, in this floating and unstable motion of things, is less
qualified to look upon the true light : being so afiected, as
the greatest philosophers and defenders of human nature
assert, as the owl's eyes are with the rays of the sun.
Wherefore it is less to be admired, if through the weak-
I
!98 A DISCOURSE
ness of nature, iind the force and greatness of differe
things, the true knowledge of religion, being either iat«r^
mitted for aonie time, or corrupted by men's judgments,
or abandoned through their tiloth, or let alone by reason
of the difficulty of the thing itself, is at so low an ebb with
ahnost all ages and degrees uf men ; and that men seek su
little after it with their studies, or having sought after it,
recover it, or preserve it after recovery. And, concerning
the first part of religion, this may be explication enough.
The remaining part is placed in the effidaicy of those
things which sanctity does contain. For notliing can be
fitly performed and administered, without a true notion
and foreknowledge of the thing we are in pursuit of, to
govern the whole action with counsel, and to appoint and
manage it with reason. And those things are unprofitubly,
and scarce are knowingly comprehended, out of which no
consequent action buddeth forth, and in which there is not
a steadiness of reason and judgment, to curb the turbulent
and vicious insurrections of the mind.
But this piety is variously opposed, and is besieged
as mauy kinds, on every side, of things to infest it,
that provoke it with continual skirmishes, as we have
served sanctity to be for the most part attacked with. For
there ore those things which manifestly oppose it, and that
wage open and perpetual war with piely. There are otbera,
who have the semblance of piety, and carry all tlie worth
and dignity of it in their looks, their words, and gesture^
but have nothing of solid and sincere piety in them. There
are not wanting those, who, through a mistake of the tnic
worship, do that which ought least of all to have bwii
done, and fall into a depraved and corrupt method of devo-
tion, and account it for that which is most right and true.
For those who nm out with loose incliuationa, and are
hurried whithersoever their passion carries them ; they ore
neither restrained by reiison troni rumiing headlong, nor
arc reclaimed by grace from an impure and fiagitiuiu tife(
«■/(« turn the grnce of God into iasciviousnesn, and li
if God were altogether without care of them ; and
OF SUPERSTITION.
199
neither consider ^rith themselves, nor care whether there
be a God or no, or whether he has any administriition or
foresight of Iiuman affairs, or that he will recompense good
men with good things, and bad men with what is evil. The
Scriptures mark them out under several titles; but it is
most agreeable to our present purpose to c.Ul them
Atheists ! who know, indeed, and understand what ought Aiiitisis,
to be done, what is good, what pleases God, and what is " ''"'
perfect ; who lay out much pains and study in the know-
ledge of the divine law, but perform nothing that is real ;
I who carry a fair outside in looks and gestures, as though
they were fiill of piety, while they are at the same time
internally empty of all good works ; and if they are given
to alms, or fasting, or devotion, they determine not the
doing of these things upon any sucli grounds, but propose
to themselves another end of all their actions than God
has appointed. The Scripture calls them hypocrites. Hypotrite
But those who neither openly oppose piety, nor pretend
to it, but are mistaken in it ; who strive to please God in
things that he would not have, and study to worship him,
and fear him in matters wherein he is not to be feared;
who have, as it were, a kind of zeal, but without know-
ledge, and without sanctity ; who think, that in killing
men, they in an extraordinary manner do God service;
who are afraid upon the least omission of any of those
things wherewith they fancy God to be pleased, and be-
lieve that there is no means, nor no religion, that can take
away and expiate such omission : so that they are fluc-
tuating in perpetual fear and error. These are said to be
AeiiriSixiyavE;, vaiitli/ timorous without a cause; the Latins
name them superstitious. These kinds are very different Supenti-
frum one another, and do much prejudice the soundness of """*'
reli^on, and are great impediments throughout the whole
course of a pure and Christian life ; so that even sanctity
and piety, being associated and linked together, cannot,
with all men, make religion to be completely entire and
perfect. For wicked men seem to me to be not unlike those
who break their constitution by drmikenncss and intern-
A DISCOURSE
ht bufMMds Adkj and be tor-
paiiiB^ till Satcgo my pttt of
'Sks to them, vliBy bd^ i ur Uii e d with
tiie FroKii Asose. or sonr soc^ iwrnrahlr aod loathioiiie
dteemper. do. xn tfe nodsl cf tins moBt giicfUUB Tcntiop,
ind snacsiUr fittte «f bodkv insfeOBd 1k«t tliey ai^
and do W d poaBBile moaiB Jfwpmlilr tfcrir puns, and
fak iiid vnonieas. dan to be cdled wlort; tliey lodly are.
Tbe n^entiljatf sv not far from bci^ in their state
and < nMrnk» L who bong ack to cUU r mity , yet tUnk
tiiemsdrcE in good beaUi; and irbo^ bcii^ widun the
TOT jaiTB cf death, through tikft wnkwnm of natore hafe
nopciddngorsenseof paxii,feelnorackii^(]f the jointe;
but as natnre, being vanquished and a» ctm ui e by the force
of the dSbease, yidds to the greatness of the dEaorder, wikh-
oot farther leastanoe, and falaaes ontalittleligfatof heahfa
eren befiore death, and is ncidier a&aid of death, nor enjoys
health: oo these, who are in the moat nnseraUe and de-
plorable state, and in perpetoal oonfiict widi God, see nol
the danger they are in; pncsanung upon little matten^
and not terrified widi great ones ; imagining themsehei
religions, whoi they are &r othenrise; and whom they
fear, they aipprehend not how to fear in such a manner ai
they ought.
From all whidi, in this so blind and troobieaome a lifc^
whoever is fi:-ee and guiWeas, is not to be jodged hiqppy
through any direction at natoie, but blessed by the abui*
dance of grace. For so great difficulties, such {wecqMoes of
opinions, such perturbations of mind, what man can avoid?
who is able to escape them? Since there is no govern-
ment of life or prudence in election, gCHoig before our ear-
liest age, but rather following us when we grow old, nor
give us their company till we are in the end and passage
Not our- out of life ; affording us no manner of guidance and direc*
^^' ^^ tion at our first entrance and coming into it, did not the
goodness of the divine mercy choose out such as it would
OF SUPERSTITION. 201
save, and ftimish them in order to that salvation with all
manner of grace and good things. Wherefore, as religion is
to be pursued and retained by us, with all the faculties and
affections of our minds ; so the common and popular, but
uncomely and deformed sects and parties of irreligion, are
all of them to be exploded and cast out : nor is the least
room to be afforded them, I do not say in a whole king-
dom, but in the single judgments and opinions of men^
And now, when every one of these parts is corrupt and
vicious, what matters it to make inquiry which of them
does most prejudice human nature, or most obstruct divine
grace, or be most corrupt and wicked of itself. But were
I now to enter into the merits of the cause, and were
necessitated to declare what I thought fit to be deter-
mined, not about all the singulars I have now mentioned,
but that alone, in particular, which above all others ought
chiefly to be avoided and declined, my judgment wjould be
this, that there is no one thing is nearer in resemblance,
and yet nothing really more remote and distant from reli- Supewti-
gion, than superstition ; which most easily insinuates itself ^^gj^from
into the minds of good but ignorant men, and is most™^s»on.
deeply rooted there, and with greatest difficulty pulled
from thence. Concerning the several parts of it, several
things have been hinted here and there by many, none of
them have said all they might. Plutarch and the philoso-
phers have attempted to treat concerning the nature of it
in general : our Christian writers have passed it over. But
it is a shame that they, in an irreligious religion, should be
more diligent to search out what reason teaches, than we,
who enjoy a most certain worship, and the truest service
of God, to search after what the sacred Scripture pre-
scribes.
But since there may be some dispute as to the name,
while men are agreed about the thing itself; and the mat-
ter under debate is better understood, when the variety of
doubtful meanings is taken away ; I shall first speak of the
name, and then take the thing under examination ; that
when we are less perplexed about the signification of the
202 A DISCOURSE
word, the thing may offer itself more fully and plainly
be treated of,
Aiji7iS«ifion'a, i, e. Superslition,
Of the word The word itself shews to us what notions the Grecians
'lim'." had of this vice; making little difference between it and the
fear of God. Now the fear or dread of God they reckoned
in the number of those things that were worthy of praise,
and judged it to be a duty that is most becoming us to-
wards God. Hence came these sayings of the Greeks,
Fear God, and honour your parents. Therefore is the
word superstition treated with equal respect ; and from thia
duty did the most renowned amongst the Greeks receive
their commendations ; as Agesilaus is represented in Xe-
nophon^ "to be always possessed with the fear of God;
'•' esteeming these not yet happy, who live well ; but be-
" lieving them to be then really blessed, who had niade an
" honourable exit out of the world." So St, Paul in the
Acts pndses the Athenians as men of religion, when he
calls them DetsideBJiitmes, such as/eared God, or were su-
perstitious. And those controversies iu religioii, which
happened between the Jews and St. Paul, are by St. Luke
styled certain^ questions about superstition, or /ear of
God. These are taken in the favourable sense : but for
the most part it is taken in a different sense ^m such a
godly fear, and has a worse meaning; and then the word
contains in it a notion of nnpro^tahle fear of God.
For as a frugal person is scarcely distinguished from one
that is covetous, because the covetous man sordidly and
corruptly imitates biiu : and there is a kind of wild and
rugged hardiness imitates that which is the true patience
of mind ; so superstition conies very near in resembliuicc
to that which is the true fear of God, when it is djntAnt
from it very widely, and would appear not to be far off:
when it cannot come in any near conjunction with it, nor
:.l )i )..nW/
,^;>, ,
OF SUPERSTITION. 203
conspire with it in a laudable moderation, and in n, virtuous
mean.
But ia 80 many senscB as the notion of fear may be Pear twr>-
underatood, bo many ways is superstition also to be taken : [upg'^t^l' '
inasmuch as everywhere, such as the shadow shews thet>o»-
image of the body agreeable to its oppositiou to the sun,
BO this carries an umbrage of fear, uistead of that force and
dispOBition, which is denoted by it. But although fear is
trariuuiily taken in Scripture, yet there are two significa-
tione of it of greatest latitude, which will be enough for us
m this place. Tlie one of these is that which signifies our
religion in general, together with our righteousness to-
wards God. The other declares those thoughts and motions
of the mind, which regard the justice of God in the punish-
ment of evil and wicked men. For since there are two
tilings in God, which are chiefly to be looked upon by
Christians ; his justice, whereby he restrains such as are
evil; and his mercy, that prepares and protects the good;
our confidence regards the mercy of God, takes and em-
braces it ; fear respects the justice and severity of God iu
punishing and avenging evil, which it conceives not with-
out some commotion of the mind ; for so the Apostle
had described both. Se not high minded, but fear : far if^fm. li.
God spared not the natural branches, take heed He aha ' '
spare not thee. Sehold therefore the goodness and severity
f^ God: on them which fell, severity ; but totvards thee,
goodness, if thou continue in his goodness. Serve the Lord P^- "■ ">
with fear, and rejoice with trembling. Lay hold of in-
struction, lest he being angry, ye perish from the right
way, when his wrath is kindled but a little. Blessed are
alt they that put their trust in him. The eyes of the LordPK- ">iv.
are upon the righteous, and his ears are open unto their
prayer. The face of the Lord is against them that do evil,
to root out the remetnbrance of thent from the earth. But
^ce there are those who turn the grace of God into lasci-
viousness, and their hberty into licentiousness, and an oc-
casion to the flesh ; so there arc those who traduce the
justice of God, as being severe, ai)d who esteem his mercy
204 A DISCOURSE
to be too mnch lenity, and remissness, and indulgence:
and thus, while they trust too mnch to themselves, and
are hurried on by thdr own inclinations, and hqpe, while
they commit sin, that God will remit their offences;
they have not confidence in God, but a bcdd pfresumption.
Against whom it is wisely and wholesomdy written, Sof
not J I have transgressed^ what trouble shall come unto me ?
the Lord indeed is slow to wrath, yet will he not let thee
go unpunished. Because thine offence is forgiven thee, be
not careless in thy prosperity j so as to add sin to sin. Nor
say^ that his compassion is mani/bldy he will forgive the
multitude of my sins. For mercy and wrath proceedeth
from him, and his anger resteth upon sin n ers. Those who
do not reckon this confidence and security amcrngst the
greatest of sins, understand not what the true trust
and confidence in God is: so those who, rejecting the
true fear of God, look upon him as a fierce and cruel pun-
isher and avenger of wickedness, and whose minds are not
vigilant to escape his just wrath ; but are tortured with an
opinion of God's austerity and cruelty ; what else will they
answer to our Lord, or what other account will they ddi-
ver up to him, than that of the foolish servant in the Gos-
Matt xxw, pel? Lordj I knew thee that thou art an hard man^ reap-
ing where thou hast not sown, and gathering where thou
hast not strawed.
Saperati- Such as have this not only useless but pernicious fear,
modemtc"* *"^^ ^^^ *^"^ aside out of the right course of true fear, are
d«^ o^ called superstitious ; and this fwur, which is vehement be-
yond the just measure, is termed superstition. Wfaidi
superstition is hinted at by the Apostle whom our Saviour
loved. There is, says he, no fear in love : tor those whom
we heartily love, how can we be possessed with any vam
terrors, or entertain any needless fears of them?
And when the end of the law is love, that which wan-
ders at the greatest distance from the end, how can it pos-
sibly be confined within the bounds of love? There is
nothing more wide and distant, than that him, whom
on the account of his great and many benefits, we ought
OF SUPERSTITION. 205
to love and reverence, we should have the most horrid
dread and terror of, in our whole hearts and wills, by rea-
son of an opinion of his being severe and crueL And this
is one kind of superstition and fear 4 ^-^
The Scripture sometimes, under the name of fear, com- Fear b
prebends religion in general, and the devout worship of "'*^**"'
God. So that nothing is signified under the name of reli- ^
gion, that is not included also in the name of fear. Hence
it is that we have so large and so remarkable a description
of it in Ecclesiasticus. Hence it is that we have so ample
commendations of it in so many places of Scriptiu:e« And
hence is that of the Prophet : Come, ye children, hearken Ps. xxxiv.
unto 7ne : I will teach you the fear of the Lord. What
man is he that desireth life, and would see good days f
Let him refrain his tongue from evil, and his lips that
they speak no guile. And St. James says the same thing
in other words : Pure religion and unde/iled h^ore God
and the Father is this, To visit the fatherless and toidows
in their qfflictixin, and to keep himself unspotted from the
world. And therefore the two Evangelists did fitly trans-
late these words of the law. Thou shall fear the Lord thy jamcs i. 27.
Godf in this manner. Thou shall worship the Lord thy
God: that hereby they might demonstrate fear and wor-
ship to be the same.
But the Prophet, celebrating the praises of the law of
God, while he would distinguish it not only with orna-
ments of matter, but with variety of expressions, saith.
The law of the Lord is perfect, converting the soul: theFs. xix. 7,
testimony of the Lord is sure, making wise the simple.^* ^"
2%€ statutes of the Lord are right, refoicing the heart :
the commandment of the Lord is pure, enlightening the
eyes. The fear of the Lord is clean, enduring for ever :
the judgments of the Lord are true and righteous altoge-
ther. But though the Psalms exhibit to us a repeated way
of writing, they do not always fiimish us with new matter,
but they retain the same weighty things, under a variety
of devout expressions. Whence it comes to pass, that by
joint words and phrases, different things are not signified.
20S A DISCOURSE
but the same matter ag^fravated and enlarged. And ttius
is religion oftentimes joined witli fear ; not as two things
of a separate nature, but that two words of like importanec
niiglit answer in discourse to one another : for it is in the
"■ Hilaw, ^nd nou; Ltrael, what doth the Ijord thy God regmre
of thee, hut to fear the Lord thy God, and to walk in all
his ways, and to love him, and to serve the Lord thy God
with all thy heart, and with all thy soul? And again,
Tfiou shall fear the Lord thy God, and him shult thou
serve, and to him shalt thou cleave, and swear by his name.
snir.And in the speech of Joshua, Now therefore fear the Lord,
.. and serve him in sincerity and in truth. And Samuel, If
ye will fear Ihe Lord, and serve him, and obey his voirr,
and not rebel against the commandment of the Lord. And
King Jehoshaphat, Let the fear of the Lord he with you,
be circumspect, and do your duty. And St. Peter in the
1- 35. Acts, He that feareth God, and worketh righteowniess.
Hence it is that St. Luke styles those who are reli-
gious and devout, not only liXa^tic, as being men of cau-
tion and circumspection, and who did not undertake
any thing without great prosieion and foresight ; but he
calls them hkewise ire;3o'/*e>oi, worshippers; such who, de-
liberately resolving and foreseeing what ought to be done,
pertbnu it with all dutifulness and diligence. For Simeon
i. *s,wa8 called (i\a^^;, a devout man; and they are termed
i. s. j«Sgic edXafiiif, who are the devout men of every nation
under heaven ; and in several places of the Acts they are
sometimes called <rE^6fi.ivoi, worshippers, sometimes fifjt-
fills, devout men. But why should Ecclesiasticus call the
fear of the Lord, the lioliness of knowledge or wisdom it-
self, and discipline ? or in other places should name the
performance of the law with the highest wisdom, and with
the knowledge of the precepts of the Lord ? tmless he in-
tended hereby both parts of religion, sanctity and jrirty ;
and so believed universal religion to be contained under
the name of fear. But of a thing that is not over difficult
we have been too tedious : for the result of all that hu
been said is this, thai the name of fear does comprehend
OF SUPERSTITION.
207
under it all religion, and ia sometiEnea taken for religion
itself.
This being laid down, this follows, which we are now
chiefly concerned about, that superstition, which is the
rival of fear, is univeraal error in religion. So that the
notion of fear does not extend itself with a greater latitude
to all manner of good, than superstition shoots itself into
idl the branches and fibres of en'or. For as fear stands with
respect to universal religion ; so superstition regards not
the errors of each part separately considered, but the com- t
plex error both of sanctity and piety. Therefore, such who Au np-
define superstition to be, when any one fears God in things oiiionofiu-
not to be feared, or places the worship of God in such pefst-tion.
.things as he will not be worshipped in ; these men, in my
O^Hnion, rightly and prudently discover wherein the whole
power and natiire of superstition does consist. And they
do not amiss, who define an endeavour after piety, without
sanctity, to be superstition. For since all matters are dis-
cerned in these three things, in knowledge, in action, and
in endeavour; neither is knowledge, nor yet action, right
in superstition; not witli standing there remains endeavour,
which, if it be approvable without the rest, is all the praise
that superstition deserves. And there is in it perhaps some-
what to soften and allay in some measure the greatness of
the evil that is in the other two. So St. Paul testifies of
fais brethren and kinsmen, That they had a zeal of God, hut itom- «■ t-
not according to knowledge : that in the midst of their so
great wickedness, and such bhndness of their understand-
ings, he might not take away the evil, but qualify it, and
shew that there was some spark of good among all that
evil. In which St. Paul endeavoured not to favour igno-
rance, which does corrupt zeal ; but to correct zeal, that it
might come to knowledge.
But superstition cannot be without ignorance; for did Supersti-
it really know what it thinks it does, and put in practice poseth ig-
what it knows, with all the powers of the mind, it would "o™""-
tben be no longer superstition, but religion. Therefore,
while the Scripture does not name superstition, but de-
208 A DISCOURSE
scribe it, it always makes mention of ignorance, as in this
example : Tlie time cometh, that whosoever killeth you will
think that Ite doth God service, jdnd these things will they
da unto you, because they have not known the Father, nor
i. me. And again, For they being ignorant of God's right-
eousness, and going about to establish their own righteom-
ness, have not submitted themselves unto the righteousnm
of God. But where knowledge is wanting, who can hofe
to liave any action entire and perfect? For a man will
either act rashly and at adventures, if he does any thing
ignorantly; or else unsteadily, in case he be at a loss what
he ouglit chiefly to adhere to ; or with some doubting, if
GO be he understand not the true quality of tbe thing be
has undertaken. But those persons are void and destitute
of all knowledge of divine worship, that have once yielded
up themselves to superstition : for they do those tbii^
the nature of which did they but thoroughly know and
perceive, not so muclx from the judgment of right reawn,
as from the aid of the grace of God, they would, as much
as it were possible, have them in the greatest abhorrence.
For what a thing is it, to render good men and Minis-
ters, as the Evangelist words it, aioo-uvaytoyouf, excommu-
nicate, or thrown out of the synagogue? How great a
matter ia it to condemn them to death, and deliver them
up to be torn asunder with all manner of tortures? What
a thing is it to provide for the establishing their own
righteousness ? What a fearful thing is it, as much as in
them lies, to betray Christ their Lord and Saviour, and la
fix on him the extremest disgrace, and to crucify him?
But the superstitious, while tliey think they desire to
please God, kill, destroy, and betray those, whom with
duty, kindness, and favour, they ought rather to embmcc.
And while Uiey stand fixed in their own rigbteousneas, u
. in a strong hold, they never arrive at that law of right-
eousness, the end of which is Christ .■ and him, wbotu had
they known to be the Lord of life and glory, they hiul not
crucified as a traitor and malefiictor, they put U> the niwl
cruel and shameful death.
OF SUPERSTITION.
209
From these tilings we understand, that there can neither
be true knowledge nor right action in superstition ; and
that it is tossed to and fro with ignorance and error,
entertaining a depraved opinion of that which is right.
For how can it otherwise come to pass, if men will worship
God with things not to be worshipped? If, leaving the
commandment and the word of the Lord, (wherein is con-
tained, as it were, the fountain of knowledge and wiBdom,)
they follow after their own inventions, and their own wills ?
If they detennine otherwise about things than God Al-
mighty has appointed and prescribed; and direct them
not to that end and use for which they were designed by
him? Thus it comes to pass, that the whole matter in
which superstition is concerned, is either this, that such
things are applied to the worship and service of God as
ought to be thrown out altogether and rejected ; or else
that mean and little things are had in greater price and
esteem than is lit ; or are bent and distorted to some other
way than ought, and to which they were intended. But
if those things are alone to be made use of, and applied to
the service of God, which he has cummanded; if nothing
is to be added, nothing taken away ; if we are not to in-
cline to either side, but are to keep on right in the way of
his commandments ; all those things which have not the
word of God and the Scriptures, either commanding wj«i,
or approving the things, must necessarily be rejected and
taken away, if so be the service of God be sought by us,
and we apply ourselves to God's pure and sincere wor-
ship, and prapose to ourselves such a religion as is holy
itnd un defiled.
Nor are we here to attribute too much to our own in- hok
ventions, or tread too dose upon the footsteps of our an-^^IJ^^'
cestors, or be led on by the example of the most powerful
nations. Our own inventiaiis are such, that wlien we fol- i
low them, we hearken not to the voice of the Lord; we""™
approve what is our own, and reject what is from others :
but are not therefore the wiser, because wc applaud our-
c
210 A DISCOURSE
selves; but therefore may justly be punished by God, be-^
cause we reject what comes froui him.
For as ui the past ag-es of men he suffered all nations to
walk in their own ways, so will he suffer all our counselB
to be iueffectual, our endeavours fmitless, our service to
be vain : and he will deservedly bring that of the Psalnust
■ ag^st us; My people would not hear my voice, afut
Israel would not obey me. So I gave Ibem up unto thiir
own hearts' lust : and let them /olloiv their own mven-
tions. This branch of superstition St. Paul fitly names
' eSi^oflpijffxBiaj will-worsMp : which is wholly contained tn
those voluntary inventions and judgments of ours, framed
after our own lusts. Tliis vice is so reprehended in Scrip-
ture, that to will any indifferent thing is hardly allowed
there. Hence is that grave and severe reprehension of St,
'i-Paul, Tell »ie, ye that would he under the law. Hence
that sacrifice of Saul, which he offered prudently, as he
thought himself, but yet inconsiderately, and without any
command of God; nay, without and contrary to his will.
This turned away the favour and clemency of God, and
armed his anger and his fury against him. Let us leam,
"■ therefore, what we are to hold to, that obedience is belter
than sacrifice, and to hearken is more excellent than the
fat of ra/ns. Let us leam that rebellion ts as the sin of
witchcraft, and not to acquiesce in the word of the Lord is
as great a crime as idolatry. Let ua leam, that the Lwd
will have mercy and not sacrifice, and that the knowledge
of God is better than whole burnt-offerings. But, lastly,
which' is the greatest of all, we think this will-worship to
be the perversest idolatry, because tbey who feign new
kinds of worship, think God to be other than be really is;
and so tbey do in effect frame to themselves a new deity
in their own minds.
There is another kind of the superstitious persona, who
seek not novelties, but are content with what is andeotf
who trouble not their inventions to contrive, b
what has been in use ; and what has been left tbem I
OF SUPERSTITION.
211
their ancestors, they judge to be firm and sure ; they ad-
mit not of other things, but adhere to that alone. But it
is a grievous thing to establish that which your forefathers
have used, to hold that certain and fixed, and to reject and
- set at nought what Christ, elder than all your ancestors,
commanded. Christ saith, Before Abraham was, / cm.Joiin viii.
But how wicked and ahominahle were it to relate those
things which the Prophet had said, j^s for the word thai''"- "'i*-
■tAou hast spoken to us in t/ie name of the Lord, we will ' '
not hearken unto thee. But we will certainly do whatso-
ever thing goeth forth out of our own mouth, to bum in-
cense to the frame of Iteaven, and to pour out drink-offer-Q'^'^n.
ings unto if, as we have done, we, and our fathers, our
kings, and our princes, in the dfies of Judah, and in the
streets of Jerusalem : for then had we plenty of victuals,
and were well, and saw no evil. But since we left off' to
bum ijwense to the frame of heaven, and to pmtr put
drink-offerings unto it, we have wanted all thi7igs, and
Have been consumed by the sword and by the famine.
These things said the men of Judah, while they sojourned
in Egypt. Ah, miserable men ! How mistaken were they,
not knowing the Scriptures! How did they harden their
hearts, disbelieving Jeremiah! How did they through
blindness turn away the true cause of their miseries ! For
Moses had foretold it to them ; iVbi for thy righteousness, Deut. ix, a
or for the uprightness of thine heart, dost thau go to possess
the laud : for thou art a stiff-necked people, when thou pro-
vokedst the Lord, when thou didst worship idols, when thau
• refusedst to put thy trust in the Lord. Remember, and for- 7., a.
get not, how thou provokedst the Lord thy God to wrath in
the wilderness : from the day that thou didst depart out of
the land of Egypt, atul till ye came unto this place, ye have ■
been reliellious against the Lord, -dlso in Horeb ye pro-
voked the Lord to wrath, so thai the Lord was angry with
yoK to have destroyed you. And the Psalmist cries out.
They kept not the covenant of God, and refused to walk in !*•■ ixxriii,
his law ; and forgot his works, and his wonders that he '
had shewed them. Marvellous things did he in /he sight of
V 2
212
their fathers. Nevertheless they aimed yet more agt
him by provoking the Most High in the wilderness. And
they tempted God in their heart by asking meat fur their
lust. Yea, they speak agaitist God in these words, Can
God furnish a table iu the wilderness ?
Let us not therefore approve the vices of our forefa-
thers, as if they were virtues, but of whatever quality their
vices are, let us acknowledge them: and let us place our
* confidence in God, and not foi^t the things that he has
done ; let us do his commandments, lest we become, as
the Psalmist speaks, like mtto our fathers, a people, who
turned back and rebelled, a generation that set jutt ifieir
heart aright, and whose spirit was not stedfast with God.
But why hearkened thev not to Jeremiah, whom the Lord
set apart, whom he had ordained a Prophet to the nations,
in whose mouth God had placed his word ? Why did they
not rather turn the cause of their misfortuncB, aa Jeremy
commanded, upon their own actions? Why did they not
aBcribe it to their oivu perverseness, to their own
ness ; that they obeyed not the voice of the I^ord ; that
walked not in his laws, and that they offered incense
Btratige gods ; but that this very opinion of their ances^
tors, which stuck so close, and was difficult to be remoted,
had taken such deep root, that it was not to be plucked
away, or drawn out ? They thought that their fathers were
to be necessarily followed, their ancestors imitated, and alt
their words and actions towards God to he approved and
confirmed.
re But if our fathers are to be followed, there is one who
is o>ir heavenly Father, who is not only King of king*,
and Lord of lords, but Father of fathers also, who oui^t
chiefly to be followed. If our fathers are to be followed,
why do we rather reckon their numbers, than weigh thdr
worth ? Why do we rather take after the moat in numbrr,
than wisest in understanding, and most holy in life ? It tt
not fbllowinj; the falhera, to huitate their faults j but to be
willing to exprcHs their virtues and knowledge, propounded
to our iinitntion, in our own life and endeavour. Tbe
T not
OF SUPERSTITION. 213
commendatioii of the kings of Israel, is not that they
walked in the sins of Jeroboam, and the other kings ; but
in that they directed all their actions according to the ex-
ample of David. The greatest reproofs of the kings of
Israel and Judah were, that they did not those things 2
which were well-pleasing to the Ijord, as David their fa- I
ther had done ; but walked in the ways of the kings of I
Israel. The best way to acknowledge God, and to know I
true religion, is to think that it may fall out, and almost |
in all ages doth, which tbey in the Book of Psalms confess
to God, We have shincd with oar fathers. This is that
part of superstition, which St Peter calls ^vain conversa- • ?»*■
Hon received by tradition from tlte fathers, which judges
of the strength of any thing, from its having been in use
and reputation with their ancestors: not understanding,
that as in the ages of men, so in the succession of ages it
happens, those are not always the wisest that are oldest
f in years, but that possess that cause of wisdom, which-the
I Psalmist produceth, / have understood more than the
(aged, because I sottght thy commattdments. And when
the psalm declares that God was angry with the genera-
I tion of their fathers fortj' years ; yet the same spirit did
I as Ixuly prophesy, that the people which should be born
should praise the Lord.
I Hence it comes to pass, that not because some things After-
' went before, therefore any thing is better; but because ittaJeo
follows that which has been prescribed by the most wise f^itia
I and good God, therefore it is good. And following ages
being taught by the ignorance of the former, correct many
things, and make many alterations, not for the worse, but
for the better. This the wisest Prophet saw and took no-
tice of, and left it to be observed by us. Day unto ttayPa-^i:
uttereth speech, and night unto night sheweth knowledge.
But if any one would reckon up all the ages, yea centuries
from Seth to Noah, and from thence to the times of the
Patriarchs, then to Moses and Joshua, from them to the
memory of David, afterwards to Ezecbias and Josias, and
214
A DISCOURSE
gr3B
a con-
of the
rertain
ght of
le igno-
:kediui|^^_
so on to Esdras and Nehemiah ; from them to Christ,
Christ, and the certain succession of the Apostles to this
very age; he will perceive mighty declensions of times,
and the greatest ignorance and impiety prevailing in them.
And at these certain spaces of time limited by God, they
have been repulsed, and agiun called back to some light of
divine rehgion ; and that again by the authority of
and by neglect often extinguished.
For aa there are in the body certain joints and
ments, by which it is tied together, and in these the
est firmness and stability of strength is esteemed to con-
sist ; so in a long ti-act of years, and in the ages of the
world, there have always been, and ever will be certain
periods, wherein will be the greatest force and weight of
truth; the divine Providence, either repelling the igno-
ranee, or quickening the sloth, or lessening the wicki
and naughtiness of men. j^nd thus much of the vain
versation received front the fathers.
And why should the example of any nation witht
^^"^you from God, when all of them are his, and created to
serve the living God? For all nations shall srrve him.
If those nations which excel others in exquisite learning
and in good religion, are not to he drawn into example;
and a pattern of life and manners is not to be taken from
them ; then no human discipline, no institution ought to
prevail to establish worship, or bring any authority to con-
stitute religion. For if those things which in men's opin-
ions are of greatest excellence, and to the wits of men
seem most admirable, have no place, no right here, things
of less weight, and more inconsiderable, are much leas to
be introduced and applied to any part of piety and divino
worship. But God rejected the imitation of the best and
most flourishing nations, proposed his own word to be fol-
lowed, and taught us, that all other religions are empty,
ri. false, and vain. For he saith by Moses, .4fter the rloiugt
of the land of Egypt, wherein ye dwelt, shall ye nttl do,
and after the doings of the land of Canaan, xchitlter I mm
about to bring you, shall ye not do, neither .shall ye waii
OF SUPERSTITION. 215
iti their ordinances, ye shall do my judgments, and keep
mine ordinances to walk therein '; I am the Lord your
God, ye shall therefore keep my statutes, and my Judg-
ments, which if a man do, he shall live in them. Not only The u
profane histories set forth most magnificent and famous ^^^
things concerning Egypt ; but even Scripture supposed all
the fountains of all human wisdom flowed thence, vhich
watered almost all the world with its precepts and opnions.
For the Scripture, when it would commend the learning
and education of Moses, says, that he was trained up and
instructed in all the learning of the Egyptians. And
when the wisdom of Solomon was shewn to have far sur-
passed the wit and prudence of all others; his under-
standing is not only set forth to have been greater than
the wisdom of all the men in the Kast, but is declared to
have exceeded the cunning of those in Egypt. So that
the being accomplished in the arts and learning of Greece,
was not a thing of greater esteem and reputation among
the Romans, and with the other nations of Europe, and of
Asia the Less, than was the glory of those who were
masters of the wisdom and learning of Egypt, throughout
India, and over the Greater Asia and Africa,
Away therefore with them, and let ua put far from usa
the ordinances of all nations of what kind, and how S^^^^^\o^^^
soever they be ; lest they draw us off from the word of the prejcrip-
Lord, and from tlie true religion prescribed and appointed '
us. For as there is no respect of single persons, so nei-
ther is there of particular nations with God. For in him
that made us, there is neither Greek nor Jew, circumcision coi.ni.ii.
nor uncircumcision. Barbarian, Scythian, bond nor free;
but Christ is all and in all.
But if neither Jew be any thing, nor Greek, if drcum-Cbri.t»ioni
cision be nothing, nor uncircumcision, but Christ be alijo^jj/'
and in all; why do we set before us theJr example for our
authority and imitation, who are not only without Christ,
but against him ? And why do we not rather follow him,
who, being all in all, hath suffered death for all, that whe-
ther we live or die, we might all be his. But what need
21S A DISCOURSE
we say more : they whose whole life is transacted in a
blind ignorance, who neither hold to what they should
follow, nor see what they should hold to; what can these
persona have to draw men over to imitate them in reli-
gion ? But unless all had been in ignorance, why was it
commanded the Apostles, that they should go and teach
all mitiwts? Forasmuch as we do not teach the knowing,
but admonish them ; we do not punish the ignorant, but
instruct them.
To thin part of superstition, the Scripture has not as-
signed an universal name, yet from the Scripture there
may one be ^ven it. For aa among the Greeks they are
said Kfi^Ti'^Eiv, Sjx.x/^eiv, 'lo-flfAia^Eiy, Augi'^a.y, to CreiizCy to
Sidlize, &c. who imitate the customs and vanities of those
countries, the Cretans, the Sicilians, the Isthmians, the
Lydians; and they are said in Latin pergrtecari, to be
thorough-paced Greeks, who follow the levity and good
fellowship of that people in their lipes ; so those who run
after the superstition of the Jews, are said by St. Paul
'JouBa^eiK, to Judaize. And those who propose to them-
selves the laws and ceremonies of other nations, are said
'Eflnxtuj ^py, M«i flilx 'looSaiitref, to live after the manner of
How to Mil the Gentiles, and not as the ifews. And since the greatest
iupenti- " controversies at the beginning in the Church, while yet a
tioQ. growing, were concerning the law of Moses, concerning the
ceremonies, concerning the rites of the Jews ; as in other
matters, bo in this particular, I shall have a right to be ex-
cused, if that which is most famous in its kind I make to
serve for alt, and name thcimitating the manner of thai
nation in point of worship, Judaimng, or playing the Jew.
Therefore, so far as was convenient to be said summa-
rily, concerning the things to be rejected, (that neither our
own devices, nor the practice of our ancestors, nor the ox-
ample of any nations, ought to call us off, or slacken us
from the word of God,} I think it has been sufficiently de-
clared in this place. It remains that the things going !»•
fore be throughly handled, which are things i
OF SUPERSTITION. 217
/ suppose he was going to apply the premises to the
Roman Church : but here being a chasm in the original,
and divers pages wanting, so far I presume as he touched
Popery ; the other sheets were in all probability conveyed
away hy Mr. O, W. and that party, during their reign in
University college; being ashamed of those arguments
they could not answer, and resolved that they should never
again be produced against them, far their reproach and
conviction.
The fragment that is left is a^ follows :
Your Majesty, who every day brings to light the de- The benefit
&ced and oppressed parts of reUgion for the use of Hienj^^^^^JJ^^^"*
that things most wholesome and sound being by you dis-
covered^ may drive away these miseries of ignorance and
error, and that true religion may by degrees shoot up till
it arrive to full perfection and maturity. Thus shaU igiio-
rance give place to the knowledge of the Lord ; the flesh
offer less resistance unto holiness ; the judgment of men
shall prevail in civil causes; the word of the Lord shall
bear the sway in religion; the custom of our forefathers
shall assume nothing to itself, unless the force of truth do
establish it, and the examples of nations shaU not pervert
the rule of life. So shall such things as are great be
esteemed for great, and light and trivial things be reck-
oned as they are. The imitation of our fathers shall not
tend towards ei*ror ; but the conservation of its own state
will tend to soundness. There shall be no confusion of
things, but things of different natures shall be distin-
guished. So every thing shall go directly towards its end,
and not be diverted some other way by the depravations
of men's judgments. Thus regard will be had, not only
what is done, but wherefore it is done: and things being*
joined with their causes shall not be rashly and at hap-
hazard administered. And it shall be known for what end
God hath appointed every thing, not whither our wills
would hurry all things. That we may give praise and
thanks unto God, and enumerate all his benefits ; that we
218 A DISCOURSE, &c.
may perform that worship, which he prefers before all sa-
crifices, and offerings, and slaughterings of beasts ; that
we may remember the righteousness of God alone, and
perpetually praise and call upon his holy name, who only
doth wondrous works.
Conclusion, And let us yield him our greatest and most earnest ac-
an^nmyen '™^^^^^^^"*®* that he hath given his judgme^its, as we
for the see, to your Majesty, and that he hath imparted righteom-
Prince!" nesSf as we hope, to our Prince, that ye both may admin-
'ister right with justice to the people, and may help in
judgment the afflicted. For from these things we promise
ourselves, what in greatest part we see effected, that there
may be neither ignorance, nor hypocrisy, nor corruption of
any part in religion ; that there may neither be any per-
Terseness in life, nor error in worship, nor counterfeiting
in our actions ; but that all parts being rightly and en-
tirely constituted, we may not be esteemed maimed before
God, with some piece of religion cut off, but being upright
in heart, we may be found perfect and complete.
The Lord Jesus preserve your Majesty in most flourish-
ing estate.
Hartfordy December 30.
m
I
THE BORROWER WILL BE CHARGED
AN OVERDUE FEE IFTHIS BOOK IS NOT
RETURNED TO THE LIBRARY ON OR
BEFORE THE LAST DATE STAMPED
BELOW. NON-RECEIPT OF OVERDUE
NOTICES DOES NOT EXEMPT THE
BORROWER FROM OVERDUE FEES,