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THE t/amti^^J^^^'^'^^ • 























V. % 


nao'v i»' 






His Retirement to Fresingfield — Familiar Letters — Forgery of 
his Name to a pretended Plot — Formal Abdication of his 
Archiepiscopai Powers — Consecration of Nonjuring Bishops — 
Literary Employment — last Illness — ^Death — Epitaph page 1 



His Personal Appeanmce — ^Familiar Habits — Talents and Lite- 
rary Pursuits — Public Character — Steadiness and Uprightness 
of Principle — Conduct at the Period of the Revolution con- 
sidered — Piety — Liberality — Patronage of eminent Men — 
Conclusion 68 












His RetiremaU to Fresmgfield — Familiar Letters — Forgery of 
Ids Name to a pretended Plot — Formal Abdication of his 
Arddefiscapal Powers — Consecration of Nonjuring Bishops-^ 
literary Employment — Last Illness — Death — Epitaph. 

In attending Archbishop Sancroft in his change 
from the Palace at Lambeth to his private 
house at Fresingfield, we arrive at that period 
of his life, in which the view presented of his 
habits and character is by far the most interest- 
ing and pleasing. We have already traced him 
in his progress from the more private walks of 
life to the highest station in the church« rising 
by the natural buoyancy of high merit and up- 
right principles. We have seen him uniformly 
following the path of conscience and of duty, 
obeying the dictates of a firm and honest 



mind, neither swayed on any occasion by the 
temptations of interest, nor awed by the frowns 
of power, and always steadily persevering in 
that course which he knew to be right. We 
now behold him impelled by the dictates of 
the same honest and upright mind to divest 
himself of rank, wealth, and power, from regard 
to his sworn allegiance to the very prince which 
he had resolutely opposed when his sense of 
duty commanded him ; and voluntarily retiring 
into the privacy of a humble station. It has 
ever been deemed a clear proof of true great- 
ness of mind, to bear a change from lofty to 
humbler fortunes with equal temper and con- 
tented resignation ; and perhaps it might be 
difficult to find a stronger instance than that 
now before us, in which this greatness of mind 
is pourtrayed in its brightest colours, and with 
its most attractive characters. 

Respecting the fundamental principle on 
which Archbishop Bancroft acted on this occa- 
sion, and the rule by which he formed his con- 
science, it is well known that the opinions of 
the vast majority of the nation were formed in 
opposition to the line which he took, and that 
this decision has been confirmed by the almost 
unanimous consent of succeeding times. It 
was held at the time, and may be justified on 
the soundest principles, that, the king having. 


by a series of illegal measures of government, 
broken the compact between himself and the 
people, and having abdicated the throne, the 
high authorities of the state, acting in the name 
of the whole nation, had a right to transfer the 
sovereignty to another; and that, when this 
was done, and the oath of allegiance to the 
former sovereign declared by the power which 
imposed it to be no longer binding, the subject 
was in conscience absolved from adhering to it. 
But, allowing that he formed his conscience by a 
mistaken rule, it admits of no doubt, that, when 
he had so formed it, he was bound, as a sincere 
and honest man, faithfully to adhere to it, and 
steadily to act upon it. He did so act, not with 
hesitation and reluctance, but with a prompt 
and vigorous and steadfast decision ; not looking 
back with weak and fond regret to the high 
station from which he had fallen, but glorying 
in the part which he had taken ; clinging to his 
humble fortune with a relish of more true satis- 
faction than he appears ever to have derived 
from his elevated condition ; and, above all, 
raising his desires from earth to heaven, ^nd 
looking forward with firm but humble hope to 
a sure recompense in another world, for those 
sacrifices which he made to conscience and to 
duty in the present. 
It fortunately happens, that a few of his let- 

B 2 


ters,* written during the period of his retirement, 
have been preserved, which convey to us the 
knowledge of his temper, feelings, and habits, 
at the time ; and that we also possess an ac- 
count of his last sickness and death,t which, 
though coming, no doubt, from a partial hand, 
still bears every mark of faithfulness ; and af- 
fords some very interesting particulars respect- 
ing his behaviour, at the very close of his life. 

He arrived at Fresingfieid from London, as 
has been stated, on the 5th of August, 1691. 
Two days afterwards, Mr. Wharton, his chap- 
lain, waited on him, and found him, as he ex- 
presses it, pleasant and very well. It appears, 
that, in contemplation of his retiring to his na- 
tive spot, the Archbishop had been employed 
from the early part of this year, in building a 
residence for himself, at the end of the garden 
belonging to the old residence of the family, 
This new house was as yet in an unfinished state, 
and was not fit for his reception till the follow- 
ing summer. 

Of the following letters, addressed to his 
friend. Sir H. North, the first, as appears from 

* See Familiar Letters to Sir H. North. 

t See a Letter out of Suffolk to a friend in London, giving 
some account of the last sickness and death of Archbishop San- 
croft. London, 1694. Supposed to be written by an eminent 
nonjuror, Mr. Thomas Wagstafte. 


the date, was written a week after his arrival at 
the place of his retreat, and the rest, within the 
first year. They exhibit, in a striking point of 
view, the cheerful serenity of his mind, and the 
absence from it of all querulous or angry feel- 
ings ; describe the pursuits which engaged his 
attention ; and show that, when cast from his 
eminent station, he was not deserted by his 
friends, or deprived of that respect which was 
due so justly to his general character. 

'' Fresingfield, August 12th, 1691. 

" Dear Friend, 

** What passed in our journey, our 
fellow travellers, I suppose, have told you: 
what hath passed since here in this obscure 
comer of the world, is not worth the telling. 
Our health, God be thanked, is as it used to be, 
or rather better. The sweet air and quiet of 
this place is much to be preferred to the smoke 
and noise of London. I have nothing much to 
be regretted, but the loss of njy dear brother of 
Norwich, and your good company. Our great 
business here is to keep off (as much as is pos- 
sible) all visits but of my own relations. Yet 
on Monday Sir William Cook was here, with 
his two sons-in-law, and Dr. Hem the court- 
chaplain. Mr. Wharton was here on Friday ; 
and on Saturday my cousin, Mr. Green, who 



would willingly attend me ; but I told him I 
must be (as I have been ever since 1 left Lam- 
beth, or rather since that left me,) my own 
chaplain ; and it suits not with my present con- 
dition to keep still that piece of state. The 
truth is, our old house is so full, that there is 
no room for supernumeraries ; and as for the 
new, hay and harvest have set it so far back 
that we despair of finishing, and rendering it 
habitable, before the next winter be past. This 
may serve to excuse me to my good friend Dr. 
Trumbull (when you next write to him) con- 
cerning what passed between him and me 
about his coming hither, when I saw him last. 
Excuse me also, I pray, to those friends I have, 
either at Lambeth or in London, that 1 took no 
leave of them when I came away : even from 
thence I began to enter into that privacy and 
silence, and retiredness, which I affect, and re- 
solve to court (as my case requires) above all 
things. Yet tell the steward that we want him: 
say to him from jne, ship away your goods, and 
sell the rest, and make haste hither. It seems, 
after I came away, Mr. Bernard sent a packet 
for me to Palsgrave Court. Mr. Minors sent it 
by the General Post ; and with it a letter of 
his own to my man, of somewhat odd contents. 
I send it you enclosed, that you may judge of 
it. However I beseech you, if reason, or more 
money, (whatever it be,) will satisfy him, let us 


not part in discontent. I said (I think) that all 
incident charges being paid him, he should 
have twenty shillings given him above his bar- 
gain ; and now I add, as much more as you 
think fitting* God Almighty have you in his 
keeping, my dear friend. 

'' Your's, 

" w. cr 

'' Fresingfield^ 19th, 1691. 

** Dear Friend, 

" When I got once into the coach, I 
resolved, according to my usual impatience, to 
push on the journey, and play it off, as fast as 
I could endure it ; and accordingly we went at 
the utmost stretch, as you have heard. My 
weariness soon went off; but, methinks, some 
weakness still remains: Ma tempo fd tutto. We 
build not at the rate we travelled at ; though 
hay and harvest being in, we have recovered all 
our gang. Yesterday we had thirty or forty at 
the raising of the gallery ; and it stands now 
in my view from the window I write by, like 
the bones of a dead body, which you have read 
upon at Chirurgeon's Hall, and then tacked to- 
gether with wires : but it will take so much 
time to daub and tile, to clothe, and cover it ; 
and St. Bartholomew is so nigh, with his dews 
and mists, that I despair of dwelling in it this 





^inter. Sir Phil. Skippon, one of the bur- 
gesses for Dunwich, died on the Saturday after 
I came hither ; and, as 'tis said, some others in 
his family soon after, perhaps of the same 
disease. Our two neighbour justices (Sir Ro- 
bert Kemp, and Mr. Comwallis) have both 
been to see me, with much civility, and the 
former with great profession of kindness too. 
So much from Fresingfield. 

" For your letter, having thanked you for it 
mille volte, I answer: — ^The three shillings for 
Mr. Bernard's books, and what else you may 
have expended for me, I pray take of the 
steward. Though 'tis kindly offered, I can by 
no means think fit, that my letters should be 
franked from the secretary's oflSce : U?ius Ber- 
nardus non videt omnia. No ; if he will needs 
oblige me still with the foreign Avisos, let them 
be consigned, as they come, into your hands ; 
and my curiosity is not so hasty, but that I can 
expect to receive them by Bens at his next re- 
turn. It grieves me to have missed (when I 
was so nigh it) the seeing of my reverend bro- 
ther of Bath and Wells.* I am not surprised 
to hear that his innocency and courage was so 
bold as to appear openly ; but am (I confess) 
that he did it safely. In that condition God 


* Dr. Kenn. 



preserve him, and the rest ; and especially nO^ 
dear brother of Norwich, to whom, I pray, 
when you see him, mention my kindest and 
most hearty respects. ' The Lord Preston's 
story continues still (like the earth in the 
Psalmist) to be full of dark places ; and (God 
grant it be not also of) cruel habitations. I 
cannot interpret the innocent drolleries of the 
Bishop of Gloucester as' some, it seems, do : I 
take him to be a pleasant, but withal a stout, 
and a steady man. I pray keep well the copy 

of what Sir Thomas Ch was pleased to 

declare in my behalf, and thank him for doing 
me right, presenting withal my humble service. 
Find out, I pray, Mr. Kettlewell ; and with my 
kmd respects give him the inclosed. He knows 
what to do with it. This is all; but that 
(Carthage must down) the steward must be 
sent down with all speed. 

** I am, dear Sir, 

" Your's, 
" W. C." 

" Fresingfield, September 2d, 1691. 

" Dear Friend, 

" I thank God I found no inconve- 
nience in my journey, where I use to set a 
watch against it : my cough does more harm 
that way than travel ; yet even that complaint 


is not SO loud, or troublesome to myself, or 
x)thers, as it used to be at Lambeth. The las- 
situde also (whether scorbutical, or moral,) is 
no matter of complaint ; the first being gone, 
and the second not yet come ; for (whatever 
some may think) I shall not easily grow weary 
of this place, if they will let me be quiet here. 
If you please to send me a note for a diet drink, 
as Horace said — quicquid dicam aut erit, aut 
non, I will not say to you, I'll take it, or not 
take it ; but 111 consider that I have occasion 
enough for it, that the season is proper, and the 
suggestion (as all your's are) very friendly. 
Buttered coffee I have not used exactly as the 
good old* woman taught it the doctors : but I 
sometimes eat bread and butter in a morning, 
and superbibe my second dish of coflFee after it; 
and wait to see what this, and time, and native 
air will do in the case. For the new house, 
you have your wish ; and I see clearly it will 
not be habitable, till cold winter, which begins 
to face us already, again turns his back upon 
us. I am sorry that upon my occasion, you 
met with the reverse of the jealous man's fate : 
he seeks what he would not find, and you found 
what you would not seek. But Allegramente! 
'tis over now, and could not have been long 
avoided. The man that escaped from Palsgrave 
Court, is as glad that he is gone, (though he 


loves not to make comparisons,) as he that told 
it, or he that heard it : but if they will not suf- 
fer him to be quiet where he is, will return, he 
saith, if not to Palsgrave Court, to some place 
nigh it. I wish you had given the landlord 
there the wages for removing, and replacing his 
books ; and, I pray, do it yet : but, for the two 
panes of glass, one we found broken when we 
entered, and my man broke the other. As for 
Fleetwood Shepherd's buffooneries; a satyrist 
observes, that great men heretofore affected to 
keep natural fools in their houses, to convince 
the world that there were some in it who had 
less wit than themselves; but the modern 
humour of keeping those about them which 
pretend to have more wit, and affect to show it 
too, I understand not. At, at, firuantur (quo- 
niam ita volunt) h4c insanii : ego autem (cha- 
rissime) fidi vestri et perpetud amiciti^. Vale. 

" W. C. 

" I say nothing of the steward, because I 
suppose him upon his way towards us. But 
my kindest respects, I pray, to my Lords of N. 
and P. and to all my dear friends nigh you.'' 

" Fresingfield, September 23d, 1691. 

" Dear Friend, 

" We are preparing our diet drink, 
with all the ingredients you mention ; except 


the gander-scurvy-grass; for we would not 
have it be, or seem, stale before we have done 
with it and are weary of it. But Digby Bull's 
letters and packets, though they are stale 
enough, and I am weary of them more than 
enough, yet, it seems, I shall never have done 
with them. But, methinks, you advise very 
well ; and, accordingly, if any more come, re- 
fuse them. My kind respects, I pray, to that 
good and worthy man Mr. Kettlewell, whom I 
am sorry to have involved in part of my trouble. 
But you may assure him again I will have no 
commerce with that importunate and impetuous 
man: and seeing, as you write, you opened 
this last letter, and Mr. K. read it, he cannot 
but see reason enough, why I should resolve to 
have no more to do with his troublesome neigh- 
bour. I am sorry for my Lord of London, but 
he useth of course to have some little check in 
his health, at this time of the year ; and there 
used to be cholic pangs in the case, as I re- 
member : but I hope, 'tis but a pang, and will 
soon be over. The same good wishes I have 
for the health of that very learned and reverend 
person who, you say, still remembers me so 
significantly and kindly. 

For your news I thank you ; but cannot re- 
taliate, nor make any descants upon it ; from 
hence how should I ? Prince Lewis of Baden 


is to me greater and more considerable than 
Lewis of Bourbon, and better worth the in- 
quiring after. I pray, therefore, in your next, 
tell me, if you know, whether he be an heredi- 
tary sovereign, prince or cadet ; of what age he 
is; and if there be a taille douce of him, I 
would willingly see it And for that, or any 
other expense you have, or shall be at for me, 
keep particular account, that when my nephew 
comes back to you he may reimburse you. He 
got hither in two days very well, and hunts 
and eats accordingly. Remember me kindly 
to all that have not forgotten me and inquire 
after me. I thank God I am much in the same 
case, n point of health, as I was at Lambeth; 
that is, in much better than I could expect, all 
things considered. Since I have lost your goo(^ 
company, continue, I pray, (what is best next,) 
your kindness to 

" Your s, 
- W. C." 

*' FresiDgficld, October 7th, 1691. 

" Dear Friend, 

*' How kind and obliging is that com- 
plaint of your s, that I give you not so much 
trouble as you would be well pleased to have for 
my sake ! You call it business : but, alas ! Sir, 




I have little of that, and, if we can get off my 
nephew's bonds, shall have every day less, at 
London ; where (as we had it yesterday in the 
psalm) I am become like a dead man, out of 
mind ; and like a broken vessel, of no use at all. 

** Yet that honourable and excellent lady, (it 
seems,) even in the midst of her inexplicable 
sorrows, is pleased to think of me, and mention 
me : the God of heaven comfort her in the one, 
and reward her for the other. The Sunday 
after I received from you that doleful news, I 
had just occasion to remember her in reading 
the gospel for that day, concerning the good 
widow of Nain, and her only son, which is so 
parallel to the present case. And though we 
cannot at present expect the miraculous event, 
yet the time will come, when our merciful Lord 
will say to the son. Young man I say unto thee 
arise; and in the mean, I most humbly beseech 
him to have compassion on the mother, and to 
say to her (effectually) Weep not. 

" Alas ! for honest old John Cook ! all my 
old friends drop away, one after another, and I 
shall stand alone, I think, ere long, of those of 
my time ; but in the course of things it cannot 
be long. God fit me for that hour ; and (if it 
be his good pleasure) from sudden death deliver 


" The legend of my predecessor's marriage 
surely camiot come from an oracle either in the 
House, or without it. If his pretended wife 
died before he came to Lambeth, why should 
he bring her thither to bury her, without own- 
ing his marriage ? or how should he bury her 
there (as such) without public notice ? I haye 
been told long since, that when he was fellow 
of All-Soul's College there was love between 
him and Mrs. Astley, sister to the then warden; 
and that some said it went so far as contract, 
or promise of marriage ; but it went no further : 
of which, they say, she also complained. This 
is, I think, the ground (if there be any) of the 
story : and I care not for affording it so good 
an one, it being told me in secret. 

" The letter you sent me inclosed is not 
from a man (as you will see) but from a woman. 
She was a child of about two years old when I 
removed after the fire from St. Pauls to her 
father's house. When I left that place I saw 
her not of many years : but in King James's 
time she came to me, and desired me to get 
some employment for her husband, who, she 
said, is a good clerk, &c. I told her I had no 
such in view, and that I must know her hus- 
band better, before I could recommend him : 
but I never saw him nor any testimonial of him. 
For her present request, you know I have al- 


ready more engagements for Charter-house, 
than I am like to live to see cancelled. Tantum 

" I am, dear Sir, 

" Your's, 

" W. C. 

" My kindest affections to my dearest bro- 
ther, when you shall happen to see him." 

Fresingfield, Nov. 11th, 1691. 

" I must confess, dear friend, it was a 
very friendly care you took of us, to warn us 
so often not to make too much haste into our 
new house ; but withal it was a vain one : for 
alas ! we have yet no new house. Our work 
without doors was ended with the last month ; 
which, had it been as severe as October some- 
times is, we could not have finished in this 
month, but we have a winter's work still to do 
within doors, in paving and planchering and 
daubing, and ceiling, and plastering, and glaz- 
ing, and wainscotting, making* doors, laying 
hearths, &c. ; so that we find it a very trouble- 
some thing to bring a new (as well as an old) 
house over our heads. In the mean time the 
old tenement is packed as close as it can well 
be, from end to end, with ourselves, and chil- 
dren, and servants and workmen : so that, when 


my cousin returns, (which I now hope he will 
ere it be long) Intus existens prohibebit alienum. 
Yet our contentment here is as great, and I 
should be unthankful, should I not acknow- 
ledge that our health is rather better than else- 
where; our food plainer, but eaten with a 
better appetite ; our course of employment and 
action the very same, only not scened so illus- 
triously, nor set off with so good company and 
conversation. The trouble of visits is well 
abated; and the hard weather and ill ways, 
which are at hand, will put an end to them ; 
and we shall be in as great retirement and soli- 
tude as our enemies or we ourselves can wish. 
We make shift to say our prayers together 
daily, though not in so much company, nor in 
so proper a place, as at Lambeth : but God, I 
trust, will accept us. Since I began to drink 
of your diet drink, I have not failed to take of 
it every day, and that with very good eflFect. 
My usual pill I have taken but once, and that 
at my first coming hither; and yet (God be 
praised) I have no complaint, unless it be my 
old pain in my right shoulder, which gives me 
the strappada sometimes when I put on my 
doublet. My native air hath been very kind 
to me, yet I stir no further nor oftener into it, 
than I did into a worse. I have of late three 
or four times a week swallowed three or four 
VOL. ri. c 


juniper-berries, superbibing coflFee or your diet 
drink. Mr. Evelyn, in his S^lva, p. 130, doth 
highly extol an electuary, which he makes of 
those berries, as a panacea : I would be glad to 
know the manner of composing it. Mr. North 
did me the honour to call at this poor cottage 
in his progress : I should rejoice to hear that 
he came to you safe, and continues so; and 
what became of the proposal once in my 
hands, from him to Sir R. G. My entire re- 
spects, I pray, to them both ; and accept the 
same yourself from 

*' Your faithful friend, 

- W. C." 

" Fresingfield, December 23d, 1691. 

" Honest, constant, dear Friend, 

" I write this only to present my 
kindest respects to my noble friend, your land- 
lord and yourself; and to let you know (seeing 
you so kindly inquire after it) that I bless God 
I am well, at the old rate, which you know, and 
have been so (without the interruption of one 
single day) ever since I came to this place. But 
the spirit of calumny, the persecution of the 
tongue, dogs me even into this wilderness. 
Dr. Lake, of Garlick Hill, and others, have (as 
I am informed) filled your city with a report 
that I go constantly to this parish church, and 


pray for 1 know not whom, nor how, and re- 
ceive the holy sacrament there; so that my 
cousin had something to do to satisfy even my 
friends that it was quite otherwise : whereas I 
was never so much as once out of this poor 
house, and the yards and avenues, since I came 
first directly from London into it ; and I never 
suflFered our vicar, or any other, nor even my 
chaplains, when they were here, so much as to 
say grace where I eat ; but I constantly oflSciate 
myself secundum usum Lambethenwn^ which you 
know, and never give the holy sacrament but 
to those of my own persuasion and practice. 

'* I think, if I should immure myself between 
four walls, I should notwithstanding be thought 
to send and receive letters and intelligence ; I 
know not whether, by the pigeons of Aleppo, 
or Leyden, or perhaps by the old romantic post. 
Sir Pacolet on his wooden horse. It is some- 
what strange, that I should be accused to one 
prince for having invited his Highness of Nassau 
to invade my native country, and to another for 
inviting his cousin the King of France thither; 
whereas I should as soon have consulted the 
witch of Endor (were she to be found) to bring 
about any thing I desired, as have made either 
of those addresses : for rebellion is witchcraft 
too ; and if I should do any thing that is evil, 
though with pretence that good might come of 



it, my damnation would be just. As for this 
new-sprung informer, whether raised of himself, 
or conjured up by others, I cannot but wonder 
to find myself in the same treason with the 

noble lords N m and H f, and so many 

others, whom I know not at all, or not well 
enough to subscribe the same address with 
them. And though I know not how long 
cockatrices sit upon their eggs ; yet I cannot 
but think that after nine months brooding them 
(and I know not how many more) they should 
by this time be addle, and never come to a vital 
exclusion. If Clarke, of Bennet-Finck's, the 
life- writer, be alive, I wish he would write (so 
he would do it truly) the parallel lives of Old 
Titus O. and the modern William Fuller : he 
would be a fit Plutarch (and good enough in 
conscience) to write the gests of these two 
noble Roman heroes, of St. Omers and Paris. 
For my part, I defy them both, and all the 
children of the father of lies. Hie murus 
aheneus esto, nil conscire sibi. 

*' Yours, Yours, 

- W. C. 
" I pray present my respects and service to 
all my friends, that remember and ask after me, 
Dr. Smith and the rest: but with particular 
and more special regards to Captain H., and 
the most noble Lord W th; with whose 


kindness I am (as I ought) much affected. The 
God of heaven bless him, and reward him. I 
send this (and all my letters) under a cover to 
Mr. Baker; to whom they 11 come from the 
carrier's quickly, and perhaps more safely than 
if my direction appeared without," 

'' Fresingfield, February 9th, 1 69 1 . 

" Dear Sir, my constant good Friend, 

" The latter end of last week, being 
in the humour to unload my table, and sort my 
papers, I found so great a heap of your weekly 
kindnesses, that I was much out of countenance, 
reflecting how great and continual trouble I 
have put you to, while all the advantage and 
delight lies on my side ; but that your excel- 
lent good nature makes you take great delight 
in obliging your friends. Having gone thus far 
I could not forbear to review some of your let- 
ters ; and find thence occasion to ask you some 
questions, and desire some further informations, 
(by degrees though as your leisure may give 
leave,) and so instead of making some better 
return for your former kindness, to put you 
upon new trouble. Vetus beneficium invitat 
novum. The great lady who hath of late given 
so much business to all tongues and pens 
amongst you hath sure a complice of her 
crime ; but you name him not, and my conjec- 



tures cannot find him ; because I cannot recon- 
cile them to what you write of him in two of 
your letters compared together. Name him, I 
pray, hardiment. 

" When you happen upon the excellent Mr. 
Evelyn, give him my most hearty respects, and 
thanks too, for the receit (recipe) he sent me : 
but the process is too operose, and not worth 
the while for poor me. I had fancied it to be 
some of the EuVof «ra, because he said it was pre- 
pared annually for his poor neighbours; but 
considered not that his great charity is as ex- 
tensive as other men's curiosity, or desire of 

" I have often wondered (and ignorance, you 
know, is the cause of admiration,) what the 
clause (A) in the bill of treasons might be, 
which hath occasioned so many conferences, 
and so much pro and con between the two 
houses, that on one side they are forced to 
detach the Hallifaxes, and such heroes for their 
assistance. The weekly votes often mention 
this unlucky clause, but are never so kind as to 
tell us what it is ; taking it for granted, per- 
haps, that we poor country boors know as much 
as you Londoners, who have chairs allowed 
you to sit upon the very stage. A word or two 
of your s may enlighten my ignorance. 

" With much grief of heart I read the tragical 


eicit of my poor countxyman Dr. Clench, both 
for his own sake, whom I knew, and for that of 
the public too, that such barbarous practices 
are got in amongst us. If that work of dark- 
ness dawns since into any clearer light, gladden 
my eyes with it I pray ; and tell who that Har- 
rison is who was under misprision of the bloody 

" My paper is almost spent : but I must not 
forget to desire you (who gave us the first notice 
of the thing) to remember my kind respects 
and thanks to Sir Richard Raines (when you 
meet him) and his good lady, for the noble pre- 
sent which they sent me. God reward them 
for it and bless them. Ohe! jam satis est. 
Claudite jam vivos — sat prata biberunt. What 
remains I adjourn to another day ; and with my 
most hearty affection subscribe myself, 

" Your s, 
'' W. C." 

In the spring of the year 1692, while Arch- 
bishop Bancroft was enjoying his peaceful re- 
tirement, rejoicing at his escape from the 
tumults of the great world, and smiling at the 
reports which his enemies were busy in spread- 
ing, respecting his engaging in plots against the 
state, a forgery of singular atrocity was com- 



mitted by two wretches of the names of Black- 
head and Young, which, though it was princi- 
pally directed against Sprat, Bishop of Ro- 
chester, yet would, in the event of its success, 
have involved our venerable Archbishop and 
several other noble persons in a charge of high 
treason. These villains laid their train of mis- 
chief with considerable address. They forged 
a paper with counterfeited signatures annexed, 
purporting that they, whose names were sub- 
scribed, solemnly promised, in the presence of 
God, to contribute their utmost assistance to- 
wards King James's recovery of his kingdoms ; 
that to this end they would have ready to 
meet him at his landing, 30,000 men well 
armed; would seize upon the person of the 
Princess of Orange, dead or alive, and take 
care that some strong garrison should be forth- 
with delivered into his hands ; also, that they 
would furnish him with a considerable sum of 
money for the support of his army. Seven 
names were affixed to the paper; among which 
were those of the Archbishop of Canterbury, 
the Bishop of Rochester, and the Earl of Marl- 
borough; the Archbishop's being first. The 
handwritings were imitated with such exactness 
of art, th^t the Bishop of Rochester declared 
he should have believed his name to have been 
written with his own hand, had he seen it in 


another place. One of the conspirators, Black- 
head, contrived to introduce this paper into the 
Bishop of Rochester's house, at Bromley, and 
there to place it within a flowerpot in his par- 

Information was, without loss of time, con- 
veyed to the Privy Council, of the pretended 
plot against the government; and an order was 
accordingly issued for the arrest of the Bishop 
of Rochester. " It was," says the Bishop, " on 
Saturday, May 7th of this present year, 1692, 
in the evening, as I was walking in the orchard 
at Bromley, meditating on something I in- 
tended to preach the next day, that I saw a 
coach and four horses stop at the outer gate, 
out of which two persons alighted. Immedi- 
ately I went towards them, believing they were 
some of my friends, coming to give me a visit. 
By the time I was got to the gate, they were 
entered into the hall ; but seeing me hastening 
towards them, they turned and met me about 
the middle of the court. The chief of them, 
perceiving me to look wistly on them, as being 
altogether strangers to me, said. My Lord, per- 
haps you do not know me : I am clerk of the 
council, and here is one of the messengers : I 
am sorry I am sent on this message, but I am 
come to arrest you on a suspicion of high trea- 
son. . 


There was little chance that a plot, resting 
on the bare testimony of two men of no cha- 
racter, should fail of being confuted by clear 
circumstantial evidence, as soon as the test of 
close examination was applied to it. When 
these wretched contrivers were confronted with 
the Bishop before the Privy Council, the train 
of their falsehood was soon laid open, and the 
innocence of himself and of the others con- 
cerned, proved beyond the possibility of doubt. 

It appears that one of the conspirators, 
Young, had been concerned before in various 
impostures, in the course of which he had 
made frequent applications to Archbishop San- 
croft with forged papers, and under several 
false pretences. The Bishop of Rochester 
thought it right, after the detection of the foul 
conspiracy, to trace out, and publish to the 
world, all this mans infamous proceedings. 
With this view, he wrote to Archbishop San- 
croft in his retirement to inquire all that he 
knew respecting him. The Archbishop an- 
swered him in the following terms. 

" Fresingfidd, July 13th, 1692. 

*' My good Lord and Brother, 

*' I have just now received your's of 
July 5th, and having read it over, immediately 
take up my pen to tell you, that, in compliance 


with your earnest desires, I give up and con- 
sign into your Lordship's hand the papers con- 
cerning Young, the falsary, which I sent to 
Mr. Needham, to be made use of and dis- 
posed as your Lordship in your discretion shall 
think fit; with this caution notwithstanding, 
that, whereas there are amongst them some 
letters of my dear old friends, Bishop Lloyd of 
Norwich, and Bishop Lloyd of St. Asaph, (who 
are both at present in or about London,) no use 
be made of them without their privity, or any 
further than they allow. 

" As for the narrative you desire, you shall 
certainly have it, as well as my old leaking 
memory will enable me to form it. But though 
I must take the longer time for that, yet be- 
cause you tell me you long with some impa- 
tience for my answer to the rest, I have has- 
tened to give it (and my kindest respects) with 
that readiness and heartiness which becomes, 

" My Lord, 

" Your Lordship's, &c. 

" W. C." 

He afterwards sent the Bishop of Rochester 
a long letter, detailing the particulars of all that 
he knew respecting this person; and both these 
letters were published by the Bishop.* 

* Sec '* A Relation of the late wicked Contrivance of Ste- 


In this peaceful retirement at Fresingfield, 
the venerable Archbishop passed the year 
1692. His late chaplain, Mr. Wharton, men- 
tions* that he visited him again in August in 
this year, and found him in good health and 
spirits, ready to enter into his new apartment, 
then completely finished and furnished. He 
again made him a tender of his constant ser- 
vice and attendance ; the Archbishop took the 
offer in very kind part, but would not accept 
it, resolving to live without the service of any 
chaplain or other clergyman. The prevailing 
desires of his mind at this time seem to have 
been to divest v himself entirely of the forms 
and trammels of his former greatness ; to live in 
as close a seclusion from the world as he could ; 
and, considering himself on the brink of that 
goal which was to terminate all his earthly 
hopes and fears, to devote himself to those 
serious reflections and those pious offices which 
might fit him for the solemn change he was 
soon to undergo. 

That the feeling which originally took pos- 
session of his mind, of the unlawfulness of 
taking the oaths to the new government, was 

phen Blackhead and Robert Young/* by Thos. Lord Bishop of 
Rochester, 1692. 
* Wharton's MSS. 


a powerful one, will not be doubted, when it 
is considered how great a sacrifice of worldly 
interest and eminency he made in consequence 
of it. After he had made the sacrifice, the 
natural turn of his mind must have been to jus- 
tify to himself the line he had taken, by con- 
firming and strengthening that view of things 
on which the resolution was founded. In ad- 
dition to this, his more free and unreserved 
communications after his retirement were prin- 
cipally maintained with persons who had acted 
on the same views with himself; and, as many 
of these carried their feelings and prejudices 
on the subject which divided them firom the 
rest of the nation, much farther than he did, 
the result seems to have been that his mind, 
besides being confirmed in its approbation of 
the part which he had taken, gradually ad- 
vanced to a strong conviction of the error and 
even sinfulness of the part taken by others. 
Thus, as we shall find, he was induced to think 
and speak of those of the prelates and clergy 
who refused the new oath, and were in conse- 
quence ejected, as forming the true church of 
England, while he looked upon the rest who 
remained in possession of their benefices, or 
were appointed to those vacated by the non- 
jurors, as forming an apostate and rebellious 
church. And, under the influence of the same 


feelings, he was also induced to take steps 
which no friend to his memory can justify or 
approve, for laying the foundation of a perma- 
nent schism in the church of England. 

The first measure which he took for this pur- 
pose was the formal consignment of his archi- 
episcopal powers, on his retiring from the see, 
to Dr. Lloyd, the deprived Bishop of Nor- 

The instrument, by which he appointed 
Bishop Lloyd his vicar in all ecclesiastical 
matters, is dated from his " hired house," at 
Fresingfield, February 9th,. 1691, rather more 
than half a year after his departure from Lam- 
beth. He styles himself in it ** a humble mi- 
nister of the metropolitan church of Canter- 
bury." He states that, having been driven by 
a lay force from the house of Lambeth, and 
not finding in the neighbouring city a place 
where he could conveniently abide, he had re- 
tired afar off, seeking where, in his old age, he 
might rest his weary head : and, as there re- 
mained many affairs of great moment to be 
transacted in the church, which could be most 
conveniently attended to by one resident in 
London or its vicinity, he therefore appoints 
him (Bishop Lloyd) his vicar, and commits to 
him all the authority belonging to his place 
and pontifical or archiepiscopal office. The in- 


stniment proceeds " whomsoever you, my bro- 
ther, as occasion may require, shall take and 
adjoin to yourself, shall choose and approve, 
confirm and appoint, all those, as far as of 
right I can, I in like manner take and adjoin, 
choose and approve, confirm and appoint. In 
a word, whatsoever you in matters of this kind 
may do, or think proper to be done, of what- 
ever magnitude or description it may be, you 
are confidently to impute to me."* 

* It may be desirable to give the whole of this curious in- 
strument in the original language. The following copy is taken 
from a MS. in Emanuel College. 

" Wilhelmus Providentid Divin4 Ecclesis Metrop. Cant, 
hmnilis minister^ reverendo admodum in Chr°. patri^ et fratri 
in Domino cbarissimo, Gulielmo, eidem providentid etiamnum 
Nordovicensi Episcopo^ salutem et fratemam in Domino cha- 
ritatem : Cum ego nuper ex sdibus Lambhithanis vi laicd pul- 
sus^ et non inveniens in urbe vicind ubi tuto possem, aut com- 
mode commorari, procul secesserim^ qusrens ubi fessus senio 
requiescerem, multa autem jam turn remanserint^ et emer- 
gent quotidie plura, eaque momenti maximi^ Dei scilicet et 
Ecdesiae negotia, nuUibi ita commode atque expedit^^ ac in 
magno illo rerum gerendarum theatro transigenda; tibi igitur^ 
frater dilectissime^ qui pro ed qud polles animi fortitudine, 
et pio, quo flagras^ zelo domus Dei, adhuc in suburbb Lon- 
dinensibus (palantibus undique caeteris) moraris et permanes, 
adeo ut neminem illuc habeam ita tffo^vx^f, quique ita ymawi 
rerum meanim et ecclesis satagat, tibi inquam ad haec omnia 
pensitanda, et finaliter expedienda, hoc quicquid est muneris 
mei, et pontificii^ fretus prudentid tud^ et solitd in rebus gerendis 


The instrument is curious, as showing the 
state of the Archbishop's feeling at the time, 
and the firmness with which he maintained the 
principles he had imbibed. Bishop Lloyd con- 
tinued to act under this commission till the 
day of his death, but with so much caution and 
prudence, as to give as little umbrage as pos- 

solertid^ committo Id Domino^ teque Vicarium meum ad pr»- 
inissa renimque meanim et negotionim actorem^ factorem^ 
et nuntium generalem, vigore harum literarum eligo^ facio et 
constituo. Apage autem Notariat{is et Marculphi formulas^ 
inter bonos bene agere oportet. Dicam suinmarii^ et de piano, 
quoscunque tu, frater, prout res et occasio tulerit, assumpseris et 
adjunxeris tibi, elegeris et approbaveris, confirmaveris et consti- 
tueris. Ego quoque (quantum in me est et de jure possum) 
assumo pariter et adjungo^ eligo et approbo; confirmo et con- 
stituo. Uno verbo^ quicquid in istius modi negotiis feceris ipse 
aut faciendum duxeris^ id omne quantum et qualecunque iUud 
fuerit, milii audenter imputa. Ecce Ego Wilbelmus manu med 
scrips!. Ego praestabo non solum ratum sed et gratum insuper 
habiturus. Splendor autem Domini Dei nostri sit super te^ fra- 
ter^ et opera manuum tuarum dirigat et confirmet. Quin et 
eripiat te^ fratresque nostros omnes^ ex ore leonis^ et de manu 
canis^ et a comibus unicomium exaudiat vos : Mactetque de- 
nique et cumulet omni benedictione spirituali in ccelestibus in 
Cbristo Jesu. Datum e proprio conducto (quod enim mihi 
molior tugurium superveniente acri hyeme nondum exaedificatum 
est) hie in campo gelido, nunc etiam profundi gelato, sito intra 
tuae diocaeseos pomaeria^ nono die Febrarii^ Anno Domini 


" W. Cant. 


Actum in praesentid me4, W°°* Sancroft, jun. NotariiPublici.*' 


sible to the bishops who were in possession of 
the sees. 

A second measure, which he took, or at least 
in which he concurred, still less justifiable, 
was the providing for a regular succession of 
nonjuring prelates and ministers. We derive 
our principal information on this subject from 
the author* of the Life of Mr. KettlewelJ, one 
of the most eminent nonjurors. It is stated 
that at some period within the two or three 
first years after the Revolution, probably in the 
year 1691 or 1692, the exiled king ordered a 
hst of the nonjuring clergy to be sent over to 
him : a list was accordingly made out, as per- 
fect as could be procured in the existing state 
of things, considering the unwillingness which, 
for obvious reasons, many must have felt to 
have their names appear in such a list. Out of 
the number whose names were thus sent over, 
it is related that, at the request of the nonjuring 
bishops. King James nominated two for the 
continuance of the episcopal succession, the 
one to derive his spiritual functions and autho- 
rity from Archbishop Bancroft, the other from 
Bishop Lloyd, of Norwich, the eldest suffragan 
bishop. The two appointed were Dr. George 

* Dr. Birch states that this was Dr. Francis Lee, who com- 
piled it ^m the papers of Dr. Hickes and Mr. Nelson. See 
Life of Tillotson^ p. 269. 



Hickes and Mr. Thomas WagstafFe;* the former 
was consecrated by the title of Suffragan of 
Thetford, the latter by that of Suffragan of Ips- 
wich. The Archbishop died before their con- 
secration, and his archiepiscopal functions were 
performed on the occasion by the Bishop of 
Norwich, assisted by the other nonjuring 

* Dr. Hickes bad been presented by Arcbbishop Sancroft to 
the living of AUhallows Barking in London, and was latterly 
Dean of Worcester before the Revolution. Mr. Thomas Wag- 
sta£Fe had been Rector of St. Margaret and St. Gabriel Fen- 
church, and Chancellor of the cathedral church of Lichfield. — 
See the Life of Kettlewell, App. No. ix. 

t The succession of bishops and presbyters among the non- 
jurors was continued during the greater part of the last century : 
Dr. Hickes appears to have been the leading person amongst 
them ', and during his lifetime all those who joined in the 
setting up a rival communion remained compact ; afterwards 
they became much divided. The number of nonjuring bishops 
seems to have varied at different times. In 1716, there were 

^ve, Jeremy Collier, Nathaniel Spinkes, Hawes, and two 

others. Among those afterwards consecrated were the names 
of Dr. Deacon, Dr. Thomas Brett, Mr. Thomas Brett, Mr. 
Smith of Durham, Dr. Rawlinson, and Dr. Gordon. The latter 
died in London, November, 1779, and is supposed to have 
been the last nonjuring bishop. He left behind him two or 
three presbyters. The nonjuring bishops were always particu- 
larly strict in their consecrations, which were performed by at 
least three bishops, the acts of consecration being always signed, 
sealed, and properly attested, and carefully preserved. Dr. 
Deacon separated from the other nonjurers, and himself alone 
consecnted one or more bishops -, but those consecrations were 


This separation of the church into two com- 
munions was by no means approved at the 
time by the whole of those who refused the 
new oaths; and it gave rise to considerable 
discussion amongst them, conducted with some 
heat and vehemence. It was properly re- 
marked by some of that body, that even if it 
were clear that the authority by which they 
were deprived was not legal or not competent, 
or the cause of deprivation not just, still the 
separation of the church by setting up altar 
against altar must lead to practical evil; but 
if, on the other hand, it were allowed, as most 
persons on cool consideration must be disposed 
to allow, that the non-acknowledgment of the 
existing government was a sufficient cause for 
deprivation, and that the authority which de- 
prived, being that of the government appointed 
by the estates of the realm, was both legal and 
competent, then no possible doubt could be 
admitted as to the impropriety of the step which 
was now unhappily taken. 

never allowed by the main body. The succeeding bishops of the 
nonjurors were not consecrated with any particular titles, as 
were the first bishops by those of suffragans of Thetford and 
Ipswich. There were many very eminent and learned men 
amongst the nonjurors at different times ; amongst others^ 
Collier, Lfeslie, Dr. Brett, Dodwell, and Nelson. It is sup- 
posed that, at the end of the last century, there was not a 
smgle noDJuriDg congregation or minister remaming. 



Of the particular reasons which induced 
Archbishop Sancroft to concur in this measure, 
further than the strong general feeling which 
he ever entertained and expressed, of the ille- 
gality of his deprivation, it is impossible to 
speak, because they are not recorded. The 
transaction took place, it should be remem- 
bered, at a time when his spirits were broken 
by ill health and the events which had befallen 
him; and when the influence of others wais 
likely to impel him to the adoption of measures 
which his own sounder judgment would not 
have approved. That judgment would, no 
doubt, have otherwise taught him to reflect, 
that it is no light matter to cause, in any case, 
a schism in the church of Christ; that the 
grounds of such a proceeding ought to be 
most seriously weighed, before they are acted 
upon ; that, as the evils which result from it 
are certain, there ought to be a clear conviction 
that they cannot conscientiously be avoided, 
and that they are overbalanced by contrary 
good. It would have suggested to him that, 
in the present instance, there could be no suffi- 
cient reason, for establishing a permanent 
schism, as there was no difference of doctrine 
or discipline* concerned, no alleged doubt as to 

* Soon after the Reyolution, alterations in the liturgy were 
propoaed, with the view of satisfying the scruples of dis- 


the validity of the ministerial functions in the 
church in possession, but merely a separation, 
on grounds purely civil and temporary in their 
nature, which only affected those who had 
taken the oaths to the former sovereign, not 
others who were to succeed them. It was one 
thing to refuse to hold an oflSce, civil or eccle- 
siastical, under a sovereign to whom, while 
another sovereign lived, they felt they could 
not conscientiously take the oath of allegiance ; 
but it was quite a distinct consideration, whe- 
ther they should deliberately pronounce the 
church established under that sovereign, to be, 
on. this ground alone, not a true church ; an 
opinion which alone could justify them in setting 
up a rival communion against it. However, it 
does not become us to judge dogmatically, or 
to censure with too much harshness, in a matter 

senters^ for this purpose, a commission of divines was ap- 
pointed under the great seal, to consider the matter and pre- 
pare a scheme to be laid before the Convocation. The Convo- 
cation, hoveever, virere hostile to the measure, and nothing was 
done. On this Bishop Burnet remarks, (vol. ii. p. 30 — 34.) 
that heron was a happy direction of Providence : for the Jaco- 
bite clergy were at this time contemplating a schism in the 
church, and wished to be furnished with some specious pre- 
tences for that purpose \ if therefore alterations had been made 
in the Rubric and other parts of the Common Prayer, they 
would have contended that they still stuck to the ancient church 
in opposition to those who were setting up new models. 



where some of the wisest and the best of men 
were divided in their opinions ; where we have 
the fullest reason to be assured that all acted 
from the sincere dictates of conscience; and 
where the name of Sancroft is found to sanc- 
tion and to dignify a cause, which our own 
individual judgments may little dispose us to 

The following letters, written by him to- 
wards the end of 1692, and at the beginning of 
1693, exhibit, in the same manner as those 
which have already been quoted, a pleasing 
picture of the even serenity of his mind. Al- 
though he was manifestly wearied with the 
world and disgusted with its outward pomps ; 
although he had experienced disappointment 
and reverse to a degree which it falls to the lot 
of few persons to know; and although, as we 
have seen, some strong prejudices had taken 
deep root in his mind ; yet we do not find that 
his temper was soured by the events which had 
befallen him; we perceive nothing of that 
moroseness of spirit which is too often engen- 
dered by disappointment, and nourished by 
seclusion from the world. On the contrary, 
we find him, whenever we are able to descend 
into his private feelings, possessed of a calm 
and cheerful temper, evidently satisfied with 
himself, and appearing to enjoy his retired con- 


dition, quite as much as if he had been directed 
to it entirely by his own free choice, and not by 
the course of circumstances which had made it 
his duty to embrace it. 

" Fresingf. April 2d, 1692. 

" My dear Friend, 

" Were not your kindness to me ex- 
traordinarily great, and to yourself as little, you 
could not endure the weekly task you put your- 
self to for my sake : which, though you take 
with cheerfulness, I cannot receive without 
some trouble and shame, when I consider how 
much the heap daily grows, and how seldom, 
and nothing I return. But my cousin being 
now coming toward you, I could not forbear 
scribbling a word or two, to give him an occa- 
sion of visiting and thanking you, and present- 
ing my kindest respects both to yourself and 
my noble friend under whose roof you are. 

" I observe how you begin your last letter, 
that since you wrote last, you had been but once 
abroad; which makes me fear, you have not 
been well, and that the weather continues to 
be unkind to you, as I have observed it to be 
this winter ; though you now be gotten on the 
right side of the river, as they call it. There 
is no help for it. Sir, old age creeps on, and 
with it infirmities must come: may they (I 



pray God) be few and easy to you. When you 
next visit the Bishop of Worcester,* (who still 
so kindly inquires of me,) I pray give him my 
kind respects. Your letter is doubtfully penned, 
whether it was he or my old friend of St. 
Asaph, that was in danger of some mischief 
upon unskilful blood-letting: but the best is, 
that whichever it was, all is well again. I pray 
put my Lord in mind, when you see him next, 
of two things which some years since he told 
me in privacy; assuring him, that I have 
never before mentioned either of them to any 
man. One was, that Mr. Boyle had then a 
most pious intention of making an establish- 
ment for an excellent public use, in the which 
the bishop was to be employed; and desire 
him to let me know (if he think fit) what be- 
came of it ; and whether there be any provi- 
sion since made for it, either by will or other- 
wise. — ^The other was, that he had an intention 
at that time forthwith to review and much aug- 
ment his Origines ; for which, truly, there is 
very great reason, there having been many new 
and desperate atheistical attacks made upon our 
most holy religion since his first edition ; which 
I have with great satisfaction again read over 
since I came hither, and would be glad before 

* Dr. StiUingfleet. 


I die, (if God so please,) to see the new-risen 
adversaries fall under the same hand that van- 
quished the old ones. 

" Your faithful Friend, 

" TiTius OR Sempronius." 

*' Fresingfidd, Sept. 27th, 1692. 

" Mr DEAR Friend, 

" A few days since a gentleman, our 
neighbour, came to me from Sir Nevil Catlin, 
desiring a direction where he might find you in 
London. It seems his old complaint (hernia in 
scroto) is returned upon him, within these two 
or three months, accompanied with some other 
new ones; and he is resolved to put himself 
into your hands. I blamed him for deferring 
so long; which is always dangerous, but espe- 
cially in recidivo. Obsta principiis. I gave 
him a certain directioir to your lodging ; and it 
may be he hath been with you already; or may 
be ere this comes to you. However, it will be 
needless altogether for me to add anything; 
your seeing him to need your assistance, (be- 
ing so worthy a person) will suflSciently dis- 
pose you to aflFord him your best advice. 

'' I thank you for your kind oflSces with the 
Earl of Huntington in behalf of Mr. CunlifF. 
Notwithstanding that discouragement from the 


Earl, he went on his journey into Derbyshire ; 
the vicarage he was invited to being repre- 
sented to him to be worth (even without the 
hospital) £100 per annum, and of that £60 glebe 
land. But when he came thither he found the 
glebe not much above half that value ; and the 
rest so inconsiderable, that he thinks himself as 
well at Newmarket, without the trouble of re- 
moving so far. But the last week he received 
information (which he relies upon as well 
founded) that the school-master of Repton is 
remanded to his school ; the two great lords 
not agreeing to bestow the hospital upon him ; 
which was the supposition that only (as I re- 
member) lay before in Mr. CunlifF's way, why 
he should not be governor of that hospital, as 
the former vicars have been. Besides Sir Wil- 
liam Gerard, who is the other feoffee, is wholly 
for Mr. Cunliff. So that by this time, you see 
the trouble that is again returning upon you ; 
that you will speak once more with the Earl of 
Huntington, (if he be in London,) presenting 
my humble service and respects to him ; and 
desire him, that if the resolution taken between 
him and the other lord be at an end, he would 
join with Sir William Gerard, and bestow that 
government upon the vicar as it hath been for- 
merly. Dear Sir, the constant trouble you 
undergo for my sake is so great, that I ought 


not to burthen you with extraordinaries, espe- 
cially since all the retribution I make you is to 
acknowledge them, and to give you thanks, and 
pray God to reward you kindness to 

** Your faithful friend, 

" W. C. 

"I have now slept ten nights in my new 
lodgings ; and could gladly say (if so it please 
God) in nido meo mariar; but the changes of the 
world are so many, and the malice of men so 
great, my lot may be that in the prophet, Arise^ 
and depart y for this is not your rest. If so it be, 
God's will be done ; behold the servant of the 
Lord ; be it unto me according to his word." 

" Fresingfield, January 18th, 1692. 

" My DEAR Friend, 

" On New Year's Day, when your 
good neighbour and his good friend were so 
kind as to visit us, the service (you know) is 
very long, and I oflSciated myself, as I use to 
do, in a very cold room too, where there never 
was a fire, and the day, you may remember, 
very cold too. ' So that, by that time the oflSce 
was performed, I was* indeed very cold ; and 
so, I believe, was the whole company. But 
that hereupon I got cold, or had then upon me 
any thing of that, which in England we usually 


call a cold, is a mistake. My deafness, which 
made it troublesome both to me and to my 
friends to converse with me, hath been many 
months upon me : and, therefore, I dined pri- 
vately here, as I use to do, nor have I eat at the 
old house, or been there, but twice (and once 
was on Christmas-day) since first I removed 
hither. Notwithstanding, Lthank you for your 
kind advice, and will take a dose of my pills, 
which I have by me, as soon as the weather 
relents a little. 

*' Unless my memory hath got a strange cold 
too, your neighbour said not one word to me of 
any bill thrown out of the House of Lords, or 
of any protestation made, or entered, with the 
reasons of the dissent : insomuch, that when I 
read all this in your letter, and had considered 
it, as well as I could, I could not guess what 
the bill concerned. 

" After dinner, as we sat by the fireside, he 
he very kindly proffered to make me a friend in 
the Post-oflSce, that should send me all foreign 
news and letters, &c. To divert this, (having 
a great averseness from keeping such intelli- 
gence, which I fear may prove dangerous to me 
in my circumstances,) I told him, that I had 
now very little curiosity left alive in me ; and 
that I was so far from beginning new corre- 
spondencies, that I was thinking of putting an 


end to the old. But I gave him no commis* 
sion (not so much as by an innuendo) that he 
should do it; nor could I ever think fit to break 
off so abruptly with Mr. Bernard, (who hath 
been so kind hitherto,) without first acknow- 
ledging his past care. 

" But my cousin, W. S., will be with you 
about Candlemas ; and then I will order him to 
do what is fitting herein. Interim, cura ut 

" My respects and service, I pray, to all 
friends ; and most particularly to my honourable 
friend and patron Mr. R. N., and to my re- 
verend brother the B. of P. when you see him.** 

" Fresingfield, March 15 th, 1692. 

'' Dear Friend, 

" My copy of Sir Walter Raleigh's 
William the First, I had soon after I was a 
Bachelor of Arts, taken from the papers of an 
old presbyterian in Hertfordshire, which sort 
of men were always the more fond of Sir Wal- 
ter's books, because he was under the disfavour 
of the court. I never saw or heard of another 
copy, but one in my late Lord Radnor's hands, 
which was imperfect, and upon his request 
supplied from mine. His grand child, Mr. 
Raleigh, my neighbour in Surrey, knew nothing 


of it ; who lent me a great MS. in folio of hid 
grandfather's, from whence I took what I liked, 
and had not before. After I had corrected the 
writing, pointed it, divided it into sections, and 
caused it to be transcribed fair, I found that 
Sa. Daniel inserted into his History of Eng- 
land, almost word for word, both the intro- 
duction and the life: whence it is, that you 
have sometimes in the margin of my copy a 
various reading with D. after it, which stands 
for Daniel. If Mr. Keble hath any mind to 
publish any more of this author s, you may tell 
him, that, besides the great volume in his grand- 
child's custody, (which I mentioned before,) 
and some things in mine, I think not printed, 
David Loyd, in the second edition of his State 
Worthies, 1670, p. 675, tells us, ' That Mr. 
Hampden, a little before the wars, was at the 
charge of transcribing 3452 sheets of Sir W. 
Raleigh's MSS., as the amanuensis himself told 
him ; who had his close chamber, his fire, and 
candle, with an attendant to deliver him the 
originals, and take his copies, as fast as he 
could write them.' If Mr. K. can come at all 
these, he may soon make a volume as big as the 
history of the world. The prefacer to the book 
newly printed observes well, that it is in all 
points much like Sir W. Raleigh's way of writ- 
ing, and worthy of him ; but it much surprised 


me to find so much of it in Sa. Daniel, without 
his ever mentioning Sir Walter ; so that whe- 
ther Plato Philonizeth, or Philo Platonizeth, is 
hard to judge. 

" I pray, let Mr. Bernard be paid in the first 
place for the Journals des JSgavam, and the two 
little French books ; and then (with my thanks 
for his kindness) present him from me with a 
guinea ; and as much more as you think bicn- 

" I am amazed to hear of another new plot, 
(which I never heard of, but by your letter;) 
and that there are five hundred in it : but one 
comfort in it is, that if there be five thousand in 
it, I am sure I am none of them : as sure as that 
I am, 

" Your affectionate faithful friend. 

" I should very much rejoice to hear, that 
your neighbour's daughter died in peace, and 
received no troublesome visits upon her death- 
bed ; and that she was buried, and how ; and 
that the poor little orphan is come back to your 
voisinage : for those words, 77/ take the same 
care of him, as of mine own, amount not to more 
or less than this, FU put him into the Clermont 
or the College of Navarre, to be educated by 
the sons of the lame soldier of Pampelune. 


*' I hear that Mr. Hody hath published a 
large answer to Mr. Dodwell, and the rest that 
have written against him; and that Bishop 
Parker's Latin History of Fanaticism is also 
printed; but before I be at the expense of 
either, I would gladly know what the world 
thinks of them, and whether it be worth the 
while to purchase them. — A Dio^ amico mio'' 

The following letter, written at the end of 
June, 1693, about five months before his death, 
presents him to us still in the same calm con- 
tented frame of his mind in which we have be- 
fore seen him. 

" Fresingfield, June 28th, 1693. 

" My dear and constant Friend, 

" I pray, will you give my hearty 
thanks to Mr. Lownds for the noble present I 
received lately from him through your hands. 
It is one of the goodliest volumes I have now 
in my study. I shall never be able to make 
him amends for this kindness, and yet he may 
double the obligation, if he pleases, by sending 
me a particular of all that was omitted or added 
or altered in the MS. original, for which I will 
readily gratify them that take this trouble for 
me. But, my good friend, I expected that you, 
having, it seems, read it over, should have given 


me your opinion of it from your so late perusal, 
as I gave you from my old memory, after so 
many years. At least, I should be glad to 
know how it is generally received, and how it 
sells. As to Mr. Lownds's fear that it should 
not be acceptable to me upon that considera- 
tion, which he expressed to the right noble 
Earl, alas! the good man, I see, knows me 
jiot, that nothing of that sort troubles me. It 
is long since, that I said of that great pile, even 
while I was in it, the old Leonine verse : 

" Niinc mea^ nunc hujus, sed post ea nescio cujus. 

** When I was suddenly driven out of it at 
eight or nine o'clock at night, I wish it were 
known, how cheerfully I turned my back upon 
it, and how soundly I slept the night following 
under another man's roof. But now, in this 
cottage of my own building, (this lodge in a 
garden of cucumbers, questa povera mia 
capanna*) I am as well to my contentment, as 
the greatest he qui lath et laxfe et magnified 
habitat. All my fear is, and greater too than 
that of old, lest I should be forced from hence 
too, for I would fain say, if I durst, as holy Job 
did, in nido meo moriar. But, alas! he was 
mistaken, and so may I, should I say so ; and 
therefore I lay my hand upon my mouth and 
say nothing ; but, as it pleaseth God, so come 

VOL. ir. E 


things to pass. But, as one said wisely. Nolo 
hodie crastinus esse miser, sufficient to this day- 
is the evil thereof, as wisdom itself said. In 
the mean time, I will write over my door, as 
the Italian did upon his house, 

Parva sed apta mihi -, sed nulli obnoxia, sed non 
Sordida, parte meo sed temen «re domus. 

" Afford me your prayers, dear friend ; that, 
when I remove from hence, (and that cannot be 
far off,) I may, by God's mercy, have a building 
of God, a house not made with hands, eternal 
in the Heavens. 

** W. C." 

Mr. Wharton had paid him another visit, 
March 20, 1693; he describes him as having 
then assumed the outward appearance, together 
with his secluded habits, of a hermit. He says 
that he found him in good health, and wearing 
a long beard. The Archbishop then delivered 
to him many papers, and promised to leave him 
all his papers at his death. 

It does not appear that pursuits merely lite- 
rary formed any considerable part of the occu- 
pation of his time during the retirement of his 
latter days. In the earlier portions of his life, 
his thirst for knowledge had been ardent ; and 
he had been an eager and industrious collector 
of useful information. In the high station of 


the church, however, which he had latterly 
filled, it is probable that the various important 
affairs which demanded his attention, may have 
afforded little leisure for the cultivation of a 
Uterary taste. As years advance too, it gene- 
rally happens, that the mind is more disposed 
to repose itself on knowledge already acquired, 
than to exert much activity in the acquisition 
of more. With all cultivators of useful infor- 
mation, in addition to the pleasure arising from 
the gratification of curiosity, and the exercise 
of a literary taste, a strong operating motive is 
derived firom contemplating the advantages of 
the acquirement at some future time, in the in- 
tercourse and relations of society. Now, when 
the term of life begins to be visibly approach- 
ing, when the relish for social intercourse with 
the world begins to languish, and the portion of 
life, which is still future, becomes of small ac- 
count with respect to its whole duration, it 
seems natural that the ardour for making those 
acquisitions should gradually abate. There is 
too a period of life when, valuable as human 
knowledge is, it is seen and felt to be a mere 
earthly possession, and, as such, soon to be re- 
linquished, in common with all that belongs to 
earth. One, like Archbishop Bancroft, divided 
from the world by a line which he neither hoped 
nor desired to pass, with whom the relish for 

£ 2 


this world's good had passed away, and every 
hope and view were fixed upon a better, must 
have felt that he had much serious and impor- 
tant matter which demanded his attention; 
and that, except for the purpose of amusement 
and relaxation to his mind, he had very little 
inducement to apply himself to the pursuit and 
acquisition of worldly knowledge. 

There was one literary employment, to which 
he began to devote some attention during his 
retirement, but which, probably from setting 
about it with a languid feeling, and without a 
relish for the business, he deferred so long, that 
death surprised him in the midst. This was, 
the preparing and arranging for the press the 
diary and papers of Archbishop Laud. It has 
already been mentioned, that he originally en- 
gaged in the design of publishing these papers, 
when he was Dean of St. Paul's, at the instance 
of Archbishop Sheldon. The execution of the 
design was at that time deferred on various 
accounts. When he was Archbishop, he in vain 
hoped for leisure to accomplish it. In his re- 
tirement he seems to have intended from the 
first to set about the work, but in consequence 
of other intervening employments, and perhaps 
from the imsettled state of his mind, arising 
firom the change of his circumstances, he did 
not begin it till August, 1693, two years after 


he had fixed himself there. At that time, he 
opened his papers, began to compare the copy 
with the original, to divide the history into 
chapters, to examine the citations and refer- 
ences, to note down different memoranda for 
his own use in preparing the edition, to mark 
out the places that required to be amended or 
considered, to make marginal observations, and 
to draw up a list of memorials for an appendix. 
He was earnestly engaged in this business ; the 
Griginal and copy of Laud's Diary, with many 
of the papers relating to it, lay before him on 
bis writing desk ; and he was noting on a loose 
paper some queries and directions, when he 
was seized on the 25th of August with a violent 
fever, from which he never recovered, and 
which, in the course of about three months, put 
a period to his life. 

The account, which we fortunately possess, 
of the circumstances attending his last sickness, 
and of his behaviour under them, exhibits a 
most pleasing picture of the piety and many 
virtues which adorned his mind. We behold in 
him an instance, such as has not often been pre- 
served on record, of a soul, not exempt indeed 
from all human weakness, but elevated to a 
noble height of true Christian heroism, duly 
prepared by habit and reflection for the ap- 
proach of death; humbly, yet firmly, resigned 



under all the dispensations of Providence, and 
cheered in its last extremity by a meek and 
animating faith. 

The disease which attacked him was at first 
an intermitting fever ; the fits were extremely 
violent, insomuch, that from the second a fatal 
termination was apprehended ; he lay for some 
time speechless and bereft of his senses ; but, 
by the assistance of the Peruvian bark, admi- 
nistered under the advice of a physician, a third 
fit was prevented. Yet, although the recur- 
rence of the fits was prevented, the state of his 
health remained without any promising hopes. 
He recovered no strength, but continued to sink 
under a general weakness and decay. He had 
taken to his bed on the 25th of August, when 
the fever first attacked him, and rose from it no 

As soon as he had reason to apprehend a fatal 
termination of his illness, and perceived that he 
had no prospect of maturing with his own hand 
for publication the papers of Archbishop Laud, 
he expressed the desire of seeing his late chap- 
lain, Mr. Wharton, for the purpose of consign- 
ing them to his care. It so happened that Mr. 
Wharton soon heard of his illness, and, in con- 
sequence, took a journey to visit him. He ar- 
rived at Fresingfield on the last day of October. 
The Archbishop then acquainted him with his 


design, related to him how the papers of Arch- 
bishop Laud first came into his hands, how he 
had often prepared to complete the publication 
of them, and having now at last earnestly set 
about the business, found himself interrupted by 
an attack of sickness, the termination of which 
would, in all probability, be fatal. He then 
told him that, feeling his own inability to com- 
plete the design, he desired to consign it over 
to his care ; and immediately he caused to be 
placed in his hands the original and copy of the 
History and Diary, together with all the papers 
belonging to them, and all the observations and 
collections that he had made respecting them. 
At this time, Mr. Wharton says, he was evi- 
dently decaying apace ; his voice was weak, 
and his spirits faint, so that he could not give 
him as perfect an account as he desired of the 
manner in which the copy had first come into 
Archbishop Sheldon's hands. For, on his hav- 
ing omitted to explain this matter distinctly, 
and Mr. Wharton, in consequence, requesting 
further information on this, and some other 
points, he answered, " These are material 
questions, but I am weary with speaking, and 
my spirits are faint. I cannot now make you 
any further answer herein." After this, Mr. 
Wharton says that he never presumed to trou- 
ble him with the question. 



The Archbishop desired Mr. Wharton to call 
on him again after a fortnight or three weeks. 
He accordingly waited on him November 21st. 
At that time, he found him sensibly drawing 
near to his end. The Archbishop was per- 
fectly aware of his state. He first caused him 
to look over all his papers, the greater part 
of which had not been opened or put in any 
order, since his removal from Lambeth. On 
proceeding to do this, Mr. Wharton found many 
papers relating to Archbishop Laud, scattered 
among several parcels of other writings. He 
continued in making this search, till he saw 
such evident marks of the near approach of 
death in the Archbishop, that he thought it 
proper to desist. Knowing too his intention 
and desire of having the last office of religion 
performed by a nonjuring clergyman, he was 
fearful that his presence might be the occasion 
of some embarrassment, and thought it best to 
take his leave of his venerable patron, and to 
quit the house. The Archbishop took leave of 
him with the greatest possible demonstrations 
of kindness and affection. He gave him his 
blessing twice, in the most solemn manner, as 
he knelt by his bedside. He professed his great 
repentance for all sins, but more particularly 
for not having acted with that vigour, authority, 
and power, in his archiepiscopal office, which 


the course and state of the church might have 
required, and for thereby having omitted to 
employ to the utmost the means of serving the 
church of Christ, which God had put into his 
power. He discoursed to him for a long time 
in the most devout manner respecting his hopes 
and assurance of another state. 

In designing to make a disposition of his 
property, he certainly betrayed some weakness ; 
for he formed the resolution not to make any 
will, which would require to be proved in the 
courts of his pretended successor ; and, in con- 
sequence, he was much perplexed as to what 
steps he should take. Mr. Roger North,* who 
had been the steward of his archiepiscopal 
courts, and who had maintained the habit of 
frequently visiting him subsequently to his re- 
tirement, happened to come to him when he 
was near his end, and found him in great 
trouble of mind as to this matter pf settling his 
affairs. Various persons of different professions 
had been consulted, and had suggested several 
puzzling expedients, which only served to dis- 
tract his mind on the subject. When Mr. 
North came, the Archbishop explained to him, 
in few words, for he was then labouring under 
great weakness and difficulty of utterance, the 

* See Gutch*8 Miscell. Curiosa, vol. i. pref. p. xxxix. 


trouble which this matter gave him, Mr. North 
immediately suggested that the simplest and 
best expedient would be, to make a deed of 
gift of all his property to his nephews, and to 
declare, by another deed, that he made it over 
in trust for himself during the continuance of 
his life ; and, afterwards, for such purposes as he 
should appoint. The Archbishop was much 
pleased with this suggestion, and begged him 
to draw up a form of the deed ; he immediately 
complied, and left directions in writing for filling 
up the blanks. " It touched my spirits ex- 
tremely," says Mr. North, in givino; an account 
of this visit, ** to see the low estate of this poor 
old saint ; and with what wonderful regard and 
humility he treated those who visited him, and 
who were not worthy to serve him, and parti- 
cularly myself."* Mr. North, having performed 
this service, took the blessing of the dying Arch- 
bishop, and left him after a short visit of about 
an hour. 

During the whole course of his languishing 
sickness, we are told by those who had the 
nearest access to him, there was not the least 
appearance of disturbance or discomposure; 
but the same meekness of spirit which had 
'always calmed his passions under former dis- 

* See Gutch*s Miscell. Curiosa^ vol. i. pref. p. xxxix. 


pensations, now came to his support, and in- 
deed in this last extremity of life appeared 
more bright and eminent. At one time, when 
he had shewn his physician his wasted and 
shrivelled legs and thighs, destitute of flesh and 
all moisture, he said, '^ And can these dry 
bones live." We are told by one who was pre- 
sent with him during the last days of his life, 
that he was not only contented and willing to 
die, but that he breathed with ardency after his 
release from life, still with the most humble 
resignation to the will of God. He used to ex- 
press the sense of his heart in these words of 
the Psalmist, '^ I will bear the indignation of 
the Lord, because I have sinned against him, 
I will lay my mouth in the dust." In his 
greatest extremities and agonies, he was wont 
to set before him the great example of our Sa- 
viour; for he would say, " as a lamb carried 
to the slaughter he was dumb, and opened not 
his mouth." Those eminent virtues of humility 
and patience, of trust and affiance in God, of 
universal charity and good-will to men, which, 
by the long practice of his life, had become 
habitual and familiar to him, displayed them- 
selves most eminently at this critical season. 
" We beheld," it is added, " the graces of his 
life triumphing over the decays of nature, and 


becoming both the support and the crown of 
his death-bed. All which most plainly teaches 
us how necessary it is to gain a habit of virtue 
in the days of our healthy that we may not have 
to seek it at that season when we have the 
greatest occasion to use it." 

The piety of his soul, which was always 
quick and active, cast a holy light upon the 
gloom of his death-bed scene. It was sur- 
prising to behold, in the perfect failure of 
all bodily supports, what presence of mind he 
would summon up to his assistance, under the 
affliction which lay upon him. With what 
wonderful dexterity and readiness he would 
alleviate his sufferings by pious and suitable 
ejaculations, taken out of the Scriptures, or 
breathed forth from his own pious soul. When- 
ever a sharp pain, or a dejection of spirits, such 
as was incidental to the sickness under which 
he laboured, approached him, he was ever 
ready to meet it by uttering some divine sen- 
tence or some holy prayer. That which came 
nearest to a complaint was only a description 
of his wasting condition in these pious words. 
" Thy hand is heavy upon me day and night, 
my moisture is like the drought in summer." 
But even this was joined with a feeling of firm 
reliance on the providence of God ; for, said he. 


" I am low, but must be brought lower yet, 
even to the dust of death ; but though he kill 
me, yet will I trust in him." 

We saw at this period, proceeds the narrator 
of his last illness, his ardent charity both ex- 
tended and limited, according to the Apostle's 
direction, ** to all, but especially to them of the 
household of faith." His suffering brethren 
were the principal objects of his charity and 
prayers, but not exclusive of others ; for, upon 
the frequent returns of exercises of his devor 
tions, he suited his prayers to the general needs 
of men, and recommended all his brethren to 
the divine mercy. In short, if he had any ene- 
mies, they were included in his prayers; in 
particular, a short time before his last hour, 
after solemnly praying for a blessing on his 
family, relations, and friends, he earnestly im- 
plored forgiveness for his enemies, as he desired 
it of God for himself. 

That his strong feeling of the rectitude of the 
course which he had taken, did not narrow or 
enfeeble his feelings of kindness towards those 
who differed from him, or prevent his most 
fully allowing that they also acted from pure 
conscientious motives, is clear from all his con- 
duct during the close of his life. We have seen 
in how affectionate a manner he took leave of 
one of his former chaplains, Mr. Wharton. 


His Other chaplain, Mr. Needham, came to 
him, as he lay upon his death-bed. He gave 
him also his blessing in the most affectionate 
manner, and, after some other conversation, 
said thus to him; " You and I have gone 
different ways in these late affairs, but I trust 
heaven's gates are wide enough to receive us 
both. What I have done, I have done in the 
integrity of my heart." Upon this, Mr. Need- 
ham modestly attempted to explain the motives 
which had influenced his conduct; to which 
the Archbishop replied, " I always took you 
for honest man. What I said concerning my- 
self, was only to let you know that what I have 
done, I have done in the integrity of my heart; 
indeed in the great integrity of my heart." 

. Throughout his whole retirement, particularly 
during his last sickness, he never permitted 
clergymen who had taken the oaths, to perform 
the offices of religion about him, and never re- 
ceived the communion with them. It appears 
that reports had been spread in London, that 
during his last illness, he had changed his 
practice, and received the communion from the 
hands of a juror. This report troubled him 
much ; probably, he conceived that the altera- 
tion would be construed to imply that he was, 
now at the close of his life, less firm in main- 
taining his opinions than he had formerly been. 


Accordingly, nine days before his death, he 
dictated to one of his friends, who was standing 
by, the following letter, stating what his prac- 
tice really was. He probably intended that it 
should remain as a document, in case the matter 
should be at all called in question. 

Nov. 15, 1693. 

" My Lord is sensible of how great 
concernment it is, who ministers to him in 
holy things. He never receiveth the sacrament, 
but with those who come not at the parish and 
are nonjurors. He never admits any of the 
irregular clergy to be at the holy offices. As 
for the rest, if they come when he goes to 
prayers, he excludes them not. This has been 
his course. 

" This my Lord dictated to me from his own 
mouth. You see how ready his apprehension 
and judgment are." 

The writer* who records this, adds that he 
never altered his practice afterwards, and that 
he took especial care that no nonjuror should 
perform over him the burial service, and even 
appointed by name the person whom he desired 
to officiate. The day before he breathed his 

♦ Wagstaflfe's Letter from Suffolk. 


last, he received the sacrament from Dr. Trum- 
bull, who had formerly been his chaplain, and 
who was a nonjuror. Dr. Trumbull* came 
there accidentally that day : he had intended 
to receive it from the ejected minister of Eye, 
Mr. Edwards. 

As the venerable Archbishop drew near his 
end, he repeated to those who stood around 
him, his protestations of the sincerity with 
which he had acted. He told them that his 
profession was real and conscientious, and not 
proceeding from any sinister ends ; that he had 
the very same thoughts of the present state of 
affairs which he had at first, and that, if the 
same thing were to be acted over again, he 
should quit all that he had in this world rather 
than violate his conscience. In further confir- 
mation of the state of his feelings, in less than 
an hour before he died, he put up these two 
hearty and earnest petitions to God, — " that He 
would bless and preserve his poor suffering 
church, which by this revolution is almost de- 
stroyed ; that He would bless and preserve the 
king, the queen, and the prince, and in his due 
time restore them to their just and undoubted 

His memory and intellects remained perfect 

♦ Mr. Wharton's MS. 



to the last moment. His bodily faculties re- 
mained SO too to a singular degree, A very 
short time before he breathed his last, he called 
for a common prayer-book, and, though one 
was brought to him of the smallest print, he 
himself turned to the commendatory prayer, 
and ordered it to be read. That being per- 
formed, he composed himself more solemnly 
for his departure. He put his hands and arms 
down to both his sides, and desired his head to 
be placed lower, thus in a manner laying him- 
self out to receive the stroke of death. In this 
posture, with the utmost cheerfulness and re- 
signation of spirit, he breathed his last a little 
after midnight, on the morning of Friday, No- 
vember the 24th, 1693. 

His remains were committed to the earth on 
the night of Monday, November the 27th. He 
had marked out the spot where he desired to 
be laid, in the church-yard of Fresingfield, in 
the angle between the eastern wall of the church 
porch, and the southern wall of the church. He 
had chosen this place for his interment sixteen 
years before, in case he should die in that 
country. On his tomb the following inscrip- 
tion, prepared by his own hand, with directions 
for the manner in which it should be put up, is 
a lasting document to posterity, if such docu- 



ment can be wanting, in addition to the many 
proofs afforded by all that he did and said, of 
the real sincerity of heart which influenced his 

(On the right side.) 

P. M. S. 
Lector, Wilhelmi, nuper Archiprjssulis, 






ObIIT 24** Nov. ANNO DOMINI, 169d> 

^TATIS 8U£ 77. 

(On the kft side.) 

P. M. S. 
William Bancroft was bom in this parish. 
Afterwards, by the providence of God, Arch- 
bishop of Canterbury ; who, after he had lost 
all which he could not keep with a good con- 
science, returned hither to end his life, where 
he begun it, and professeth here, at the foot of 
his tomb, that, as naked he came forth, so 
naked he must return; the Lord gave, and 
the Lord hath taken away; as the Lord 
pleaseth, so come things to pass; blessed be 
the name of the Lord. 


(Over his head the followmg verse.) 

St. Matt. 24. 27. 

As the lightning cometh out of the east, and 
shineth even unto the west, so shall also the 
coming of the Son of Man be. 





His personal Appearance — Famitiar Habits — Talents and Lite^ 
vary Pursuits — Public Character — Steadiness and Uprightness 
of Principle— Conduct at the Period of the Revolution con^ 
sidered — Piety — Uberahty — Patronage of eminent Men—^ 

Archbishop Sancroft appears to have been of 
a slender person, and spare habit of body. His 
features, as we may judge from the portraits of 
him which remain, were well turned, and his 
countenance in its general cast expressive of 
placidity and meekness, together with much 
shrewdness and sagacity. His constitution 
seems to have been never strong: we have 
found him frequently, at different periods of his 
life, alluding to his invalid state of health ; and 
his constitutional maladies appear to have 
gained upon him, as he advanced in years. 

Respecting the private habits of his life, the 
materials which are supplied to us from those 
who conversed familiarly with him are unfortu- 
nately scanty. Mr. Needham, who resided 


with him as one of his chaplains during the last 
six years of his occupying Lambeth Palace, 
from the year 1685 to 1691, has mentioned a 
few particulars which describe his great abste- 
miousness as to diet, the simplicity of his gene- 
ral mode of living, and the regularity with 
which he divided his hours for devotional exer- 
cises and for other employments. 

" He was," he states, " the most pious hum- 
ble good Christian I ever knew in all my life. 
His hours for chapel were at six in the morning, 
twelve before dinner, three in the afternoon, 
and nine at night, at which times be was 
constantly present, and always dressed. 

'' His usual diet, when it was not fast day, 
was two small dishes of coffee, and a pipe of 
tobacco, for breakfast; at noon, chicken or 
mutton; at night, a glass of mum,* and a bit of 
bread, if any thing. "f 

Of Archbishop Sancroft*s talents and acquire- 
ments, the fruits that remain are fewer than 
might be desired. It is stated;}: that he always 
aimed at great privacy in his thoughts and 
writings, being unwilling to appear in print, 

* Mum is ale brewed from wheat. 

t See Cole*8 MSS. in the British Museum. Cole remarks 
that the account which Mr. Needham here gives of his patron 
is extremely meagre, and that much more ought to have beci\ 
sfdd hy one who had access to his familiar habits. 

X See Preface to Miscellan. Curiosa, p. xxxii. 



and never consenting to do so, from the com-* 
mands or solicitations of others, when he could 
with any decency avoid it. But, few as his re-r 
maining works are, they are sufficient in value 
to place him in a rank of considerable distinc-^ 
tion for literary eminence. He seems to have 
been, during the whole of his life, a close and 
regular student ; and, especially in his earlier 
years spent in the bosom of the University, to 
have taken a wide range of literary pursuit, 
cultivating not only the severer and more solid 
branches of theology, ethics, and natural 
science, but also the lighter studies connected 
with works of taste and imagination. He was 
evidently a keen and quick observer of passing 
events, and was able to trace with a discrimi- 
nating eye the nicer traits of the characters of 
men, and the motives, concealed beneath the 
surface, by which their conduct was influenced. 
His talents, it may be inferred from his writings, 
were rather solid, than bright ; and he excelled 
rather in clearness of understanding and corr 
rectness of reasoning, than in power of genius : 
still there are parts of his writings which claim 
for him no mean credit for strength and origir 
nality of conception. His memory seems to have 
been strong and retentive ; and since, through 
study and labour, he furnished it with abundant 
materials, he was able to command a store of 


images and illustrations, to be produced as oc- 
casion might require. The style which was 
most natural to him, appears to have been that 
which consisted of short, pointed and pithy sen- 
tences, such as we find in his " Modem Policies," 
and in some of his familiar letters. In his ser- 
mons he is too scholastic and dry as to style, 
notwithstanding the valuable matter which they 
contain, and the extensive erudition which they 
display : much must be attributed to the bad 
taste in such compositions prevailing in the 
times in which he was educated and wrote : but 
still there may be some truth in the remark of 
Dr. Birch,* that the style of his sermons is more 
suited to a disciple of Bishop Andrews, than a 
contemporary of Dr. Tillotson ; with this al- 
lowance in favour of Archbishop Sancroft, that, 
as Tillotson was junior to him by many years, 
in an age when the taste in pulpit compositions 
was rapidly improving, he possessed superior 
advantages for acquiring a correct taste, and 
forming his style on an approved model. 

His industry in pursuing his studies and col- 
lecting useful information was extraordinary; 
and it was continued through the period of life, 
when various avocations pressed upon him, and 
when the mind generally seeks repose from 

« See Birch*8 Life of Tillotson, p. 164. 



active and persevering exertion. *^ It was 
shameful," says Mr. Wharton in the dedication 
of his Anglia Sacra, in July, 1689, *' for a young 
ihan to be otherwise than diligent in his studies, 
and to be remiss in doing the greatest possible 
service to the churcb, when he saw most un- 
wearied diligence, as well in reading J^s in writ- 
ing, in so dignified a prelate, who had long ago 
exhausted the whole circle of literature, at a 
time when he was more than seventy years pf 
age, and weighed down with the cares of church 
and state." *' Your other virtues," he proceeds, 
f' I as a person pf far inferior character and 
condition can only admire; that pf diligence 
and study is the only oqe which I can imitate." 

Another of those who were acquainted with 
his private habits, Mr. Roger North, bears a 
similar testimony.^ " It was to me," he says, 
" a wonder to observe the industry of that man. 
If any presented him, as many did, with dis- 
courses upon business depending, he would 
register them in his own books, with his own 
hands, using his own exquisite orthography and 
abbreviations, and mending the English, and 
penodizing in all places, as it ought to be done ; 
and he did me the honour to do the like, with 
all that he received of me." 

He was particularly diligent as a transcriber. 

* See Preface to Miscellanea Curiosa, p. Ix. 


It appears to have been his constant habit to 
transfer to his commoa-rplace books, with the 
most persevering industry, copious extracts 
from the printed or manuscript works which he 
perused. He also carefully preserved all the 
papers relating to the various business in which 
he was engaged, laying by the letters addressed 
to him as well on private as on public topics, 
and in many instances keeping copies of the 
letters written by himself. In addition to this, 
he appears to have been a diligent searcher after 
original letters of distinguished persons, and 
documents relating to public transactions, ec- 
clesiastical and civil, for the purpose of trans- 
ferring them into his collections. The conse- 
quence is, that the MSS. which he left behind 
him are extremely voluminous. It has been 
said that no person ever transcribed so much 
with his own hand : it is certain that he dis-. 
played a patient industry of research which has 
not often been exceeded ; and, as his collections 
were made with judgment as well as industry, 
they abound with much valuable and important 

* In the Harleian Collection in the British Museum, besides 
three Tolumes of letters written to Dr. Sancroft at different 
periods of his life, and from persons of all descriptions^ are 
thirteen volumes (numbered 3786 — 3798) of miscellaneous col- 
lections made by him^ relating to a great variety of subjects^ 


The great features of Archbishop Sancroft's 
character, as evinced in the general tenor of his 
life, and in his conduct in the leading public 
transactions in which he was engaged, have 
been very variously drawn by friends and ad- 
versaries; such is always unavoidably the case 
with those who have acted a part in great ques- 
tions which have much divided the opinions of 
men, and in regard to which those who have 
firmly adhered to one party, have necessarily 
incurred the animadversions of the opposite. 
Bishop Burnet, a man most strongly imbued 
with the spirit of party, and not very sparing in 
his animadversions on those whose sentiments 
and course of conduct were at variance with his 
own; writing at a time when the passions of 
men were still heated on the questions that re- 
garded the settlement of the government at the 
Revolution; and, further, having an impression 
on his mind, that he had personal grounds of 

public and private, many of them haying marginal notes written 
with his own hand. Among Bishop Tanner's MSS. in the 
Bodleian are a great number of volumes^ consisting of extracts 
on different subjects made by his own hand^ collections of 
MSS. with frequent marginal notes of his own^ letters ad- 
dressed to him^ several of his common-place books^ &c. In 
the Lambeth library also^ a few of his MSS. are preserved, 
having remained in the possession of Mr. Wharton, and been 
purchased among his collection. 


complaint against the Archbishop; has infused 
into the chai'acter he has drawn of him an un- 
usual quantity of gall, taking every opportu^ 
nity of throwing out insinuations to his disad^ 
vantage, animadverting with great severity on 
his failings, and either wholly passing over or 
touching with a light hand his many excellen- 
cies and virtues.* And, as the writings of 
Bishop Burnet, especially his History of his 
Own Times, have been deservedly popular and 
generally read, his partial representations have 
had more weight than they ought, in guiding 
public opinion as to the character of this vene- 
rable archbishop. It is true that full justice 
was done to his memory by some of his friends 

* The maimer in which Burnet has treated the memory of 
this distinguished prelate has not passed altogether without 
just animadversion. Granger^ (see Supplement to his Biogra- 
phical Memoirs^) after quoting Bishop Bumet*s delineation of 
his character, says — '* Such is the character of this prelate, as 
drawn by a contemporary writer (Burnet) who would have 
coosiderably softened the harshness of his features, if he had 
been more like Sancroft^ who had a generous and enlarged 
heart to objects of benevolence. He was highly respected, and 
great deference was paid to his judgment by the prelates ^ls 
feUow sufferers, in that difficult and dangerous conjuncture for 
the church which preceded the revolution : his conduct was in- 
deed judicious and exemplary on that trying occasion." — Bevil 
Uiggons too^ in his remarks on Burnet^ (p. 201.) has some 
proper observations on the same subject. 


of the nonjuring party;* but, as they wrote on 
the unpopular side, and many of them in small 
or occasional works, their statements extended 
very little beyond their own party, and had 
small general influence on public opinion.! At 

* See particularly the Life of Kettlewell -, also that of Bishop 
Bull^ written by Mr. Nelson ; and the letter from Suffolk by 
Mr. Thomas Wagstaffe. Thomas Heame also, the eminent 
antiquary^ a nonjuror, in the preface to his edition of Otter- 
bourne, p. 45, passes an encomium on Archbbhop Sancroft 
which is worth transcribing. 

'* Sancroftus ille est, qui (id quod doctis pariter et indoctis 
notissimum est) ob fidem in Patrem patriae illibatam palatiis, 
honoribus, juribusque omnibus, officio archiepiscopali annexis, 
vi laic4 pulsus et spoliatus, postea summd com animi tranquilli- 
tate vitam (quae profecto probatissima semper, turn in rebus 
prosperis tum in adversis erat) ad mortem usque egit privatam, 
omnibus, ne quidem ipsis etiam inimicis, insignit^ utcunque 
improbis, exceptis, eum venerantibus ac honorantibus; utpote 
qui a maleficiis abhorrens nihil usquam fecerit, quod non proba- 
verit conscientia, quae in ipso sane adeo recta erat ut e4 ne trans- 
versum quidem unguem unquam discesserit. 

" Id operas pretium est (et ad rem nostram masdm^ attinet) 
monere, Sancroftum sic uti, in omnigend eniditione, (nam inte- 
riories ^crutabatur et reconditas literas) versatus est, ita et anti- 
quitatum ac historiarum nostrarum fuisse peritissimum : quod 
plane ipsius ingenio, diligentiae et judicio tribuendum est. 
Hinc et notas (quae lectoribus non pos^nt non valde arridere) 
subinde codicibus apposuit curiosas simul et eruditas.** 

f As a proof of the little justice which was done to Arch- 
bishop Sancroft*s memory for many years after the Revolution^ 
it may be mentioned, that, till the time of Archbishop Com- 
Wallis, his portrait was not even placed among those of the 


the distance of time to which we are now ar- 
rived from the transactions in which Arch- 
bishop Sancroft acted his part, we are enabled 
to view the characters and conduct of the in- 
dividuals concerned in them with an eye clear 
from those prej udices which before dimmed the 
vision to the light of impartial truth. And it 
may now be permitted to the biographer of this 
great and good man, who from conscientious 
motives refused his allegiance to the govern- 
ment established at the Revolution, to do full 
justice to his memory, without incurring the 
suspicion of being unfriendly to those great 
principles which produced that important event 
in our history, and have since justified it in the 
judgment of all posterity. 

Archbishops, at Lambeth Palace : Mr. Baker states^ that he was 
informed by Dr. Farmer, Master of Emanuel CoUege, that " not 
one of Archbishop Sancroft*s successors had spirit or generosity 
to hang up his picture in the palace, till Archbishop Comwallis, 
observing the portrait of him in the gallery at Emanuel, re- 
quested his (Dr. Farmer*s) leave to have a copy of it taken 5 this 
was done accordingly, and the portrait sent to Lambeth** — " a 
mark,** he adds, '* of moderation as well as good sense and 
liberality,*' in the Archbishop who gave the order. — See Cole*s 
MSS. at the British Museum, v. 49. 399. To this anecdote it 
should be added, that his grace the present archbishop has^ in 
addition to the portrait just mentioned, placed also in the gallery 
at Lambeth the original portrait of Archbishop Sancroft, from 
which the engraving at the beginning of these volumes is 


The grand feature in Archbishop Sancroft's 
character is his firm and unbending integrity, 
his lofty and immoveable uprightness of mind, 
which made him, on all occasions, steadily ad- 
here to that cause which he 'believed to be 
right, and postpone to this proud feeling every 
consideration of worldly interest. 

" Even in his greener days," as his panegyrist 
expresses it, " this great quality of his soul 
was ripe and perfected." Bred up a true son 
of the Protestant church, and in firm attach- 
ment to the kingly form of government, he 
could never be brought to countenance, in any 
shape or degree, the measures which were 
directed to the subversion of the altar and 
the throne, to approve the actors in those 
scenes of rebellious guilt, or to acquiesce in 
their acts when success had unhappily crowned 
them. At the time when the oaths of the Cove- 
nant and the Engagement were pressed through 
the nation for the purpose of propagating and 
confirming rebellion, he had lately risen into 
life : examples abounded on every side of him, 
of persons of more advanced years, and more 
ripened experience than himself, who were in- 
duced readily to comply with all that was re- 
quired by the prevailing powers of the day ; 
and there was every appearance that, without 
bending to these usurped authorities, the door 


to worldly advancement and emoluments must 
be closed. Still, standing firm on those high 
principles which education and reflection had 
deeply fixed in his mind, he determined to 
spurn at all policy which was not grounded on 
sound conscientious feeling ; and, by suffering 
at last expulsion fi*om his fellowship, he seemed 
to deprive himself, for conscience sake, of all 
on which the comforts of his future life de- 

In the later periods of his life, his firm cou- 
rage in pursuing the path of conscientious duty 
was put to the test in a difierent manner, and 
came out approved from the trial. Although 
he was a steady and unshaken friend to the 
monarchical form of government, as he had 
fully shown by the sacrifices he had made in 
support of it, he was by no means prepared to 
support the encroachments of arbitrary power 
on the liberties of the people; and, least of all, 
when those encroachments were intended to 
pave the way for the introduction of religious 
doctrines which he censcientiou^y disapproved. 
From the feeling of respect which he bore to 
James as his sovereign, he was manifestly un- 
willing to appear as the open opposer of his 
measures ; and, therefore, abstained from such 
opposition as long as he felt that his duty per- 
mitted him so to do. But, when he once de- 


termined that resistance to his unlawful at- 
tempts was absolutely necessary, he acted 
with all the resolution, steadiness, and spirit 
which became his station and his character. 
In the whole affair of the petition of the seven 
bishops, in which he was the leader both in 
advising and in acting, and in the subsequent 
interviews of the bishops with the king re* 
specting the invasion of the kingdom by the 
Prince of Orange, his whole conduct was firm, 
temperate, and respectful towards his sove- 
reign; evincing his full determination not to 
recede from the line of duty, and at the same 
time his great reluctance to oppose in a quarter 
where he was desirous only of obeying. 

In the part which he took, at and subse- 
quently to the Revolution, however question- 
able some particulars of his conduct may be, 
we perceive, beyond all possibility of doubt, 
the same triumph of conscientious principle 
over every worldly consideration, and over 
every inferior motive of action. In refusing his 
assent to the exclusion of the abdicated mo- 
narch from the throne, many powerful feelings 
must have impelled him to a contrary deci- 
sion. Attachment to the Protestant church 
was known to be a master principle in his 
mind. No one could have been more con- 


vmced than he was, of the fixed and gloomy 
bigotry of James, of the general insincerity of his 
character, of his fixed design to establish Popery 
in the kingdom, and of the impossibility of re- 
lying on his promises and assertions. Thus he 
must have felt, as strongly as any one could do, 
the evils connected with retaining that monarch 
on the throne ; but still, from the feeling that 
his right to that throne was indefeasible, he 
would not consent to his exclusion. With this 
impression on his mind, to transfer his allegi- 
aace to another, was to involve himself in the 
guilt of perjury ; and he shrunk from so doing, 
with the feeling natural to a religious and up- 
right mind. " He chose rather," says Mr. Nel- 
son, " to be deprived of all his honours and reve- 
nues than to violate his conscience, or stain the 
purity of those principles which he had uni- 
formly defended." 

The great point which has been urged against 
him, and which strikes every one at first sight 
in considering the course which he pursued, is 
the seeming want of consistency in first pro- 
moting the measures in opposition to James, 
which led to the Revolution, and then disap- 
proving the result. On this subject, some dis- 
cussion has already taken place.* The real ob^ 

* See Chapter X. 


jection to the line of conduct which he adopted 
does not apply to his want of consistency, for 
he appears to have maintained to the last the 
very same views with which he set out, but to 
his want of discernment in not rightly apprcr 
If ending the consequences of the measures in 
which he joined, and in expecting from them a 
result different from that to which thpy natur 
rally and directly tended. 

There is every reason to suppose that he 
never intended or contemplated the expulsion 
oC James from the throne. His object mani- 
festly was to procure the assembling of a free 
parliament which might put a stop to the arbi- 
trary and illegal measures of that sovereign, 
free him from the entanglement of evil counsels, 
^nd place the civil and religious liberties of the 
country on a firm footing of security. He saw, 
as the result of his experience of James's cha- 
racter, that there was no hope of effecting these 
objects without some open resistance to his 
pleasures; and therefore it was that he stood 
^p himself as an opposer, and that he acqui-r 
esced in the invasion of the kingdom by the 
Prince of Orange: for, although he did not 
concur directly or indirectly in inviting the 
Prince, yet, by refusing to express his disap- 
probation of his design, he must certainly be 
considered as having acquiesced in it. But, 


beyond this design, of constraining James to 
alter his course of government, he was never 
prepared to advance. Here, then, was the 
point at which he made his firm and immovable 
stand. In moving up to this point, he actively 
concurred with others ; but nothing could in- 
duce him to advance a single step beyond it.* 
Thus, as the end which he designed to attain 
was one throughout, and the means in which he 
concurred bore uniformly towards that end and 
no other, he seems clearly not to be liable to 
the charge of inconsistency, whether that charge 
be applied to the end pursued or to the means 

But it is by no means equally easy to justify 
his discernment, when he so mistook the signs 
of the times as to expect that matters could 
stop short according to his views, and that the 
nation could be satisfied, after the struggle they 

* In the " Vindication of Archbisbop Sahcroft and his 
brethren,*' published in 1718^ it is remarked^ probably with 
justice as far as the Archbishop is concerned^ that^ while in the 
Guildhall Declaration, the last public act in which he joined, 
there is no offer whatever of the supreme power to the Prince of 
Orange ; the declaration of their readiness to assist him in calling 
a free parliament, was made with a due reserve of their alle- 
giance to King James, and on the faith of his assurances that he 
had no design to remove the king, or get possession of the go* 



were going through, with leaving, under any 
circumstances, the sovereign power in the hands 
of James. After the full experience that had 
now been afforded of his infatuated bigotry, 
no rational hope remained that he would ever 
desist from his designs, as long as he should 
remain invested with power to carry them on. 
In consequence, his expulsion from the throne 
was a direct intended object with many who 
fevoured the design of the Prince of Orange; 
by more, was foreseen as a probable result of 
that expedition : and it certsdnly argued a cer- 
tain degree of blindness to consequences in the 
Archbishop and others who agreed with him, 
when concurring, as they did, in the measures 
themselves, they discerned not beforehand those 
results to which they were manifestly leading. 
It has already been remarked* that, in de- 
clining to take any part in the great measure 
of settling the government, a measure which 
demanded all the strength of the counsels of 
the nation, and in which a person of his high 
character and eminent station was especially 
called upon to assist, he must be considered, 
even under the most favourable view of his 
conduct, as very deficient in the eneirgy and 
decision which became him; and here indeed 

* See V. i. p. 430. 


seems to be the blot upon his character as a 
public man which it is least easy to wipe off. 
Still it may perhaps be deemed, in the event of 
things, a fortunate circumstance that he did 
follow this course. For the addition of his name 
and authority to the party adverse to the esta- 
blishment of a Protestant succession would pro- 
bably have turned the balance in the House of 
Peers against the decision of the Commons. 
Thus either a prolonged disagreement would 
have taken place between these two branches 
of the legislature : or else a decision might have 
been adopted favourable to the eventual re- 
sumption of the sovereignty by James ; which 
would in fact have been, to leave the nation to 
the probable risk of another struggle for its 
religious and civil liberties. 

That, after the Revolution, he betrayed some 
indecision and weakness on inferior points; while 
on the great matter of refusing to act against 
his conscience, he remained ever most firm 
and stedfast : that he showed some little frac- 
tiousness of temper in retaining possession of 
Lambeth Palace, without any possible advan- 
tage, till he was ejected by law ; and that he 
departed from all sound views when he pro- 
vided for the establishment of a permanent 
schism in the church, must be allowed by those 
who are most partial to his memory. Much 



may be said in extenuation, no doubt, from the 
natural effect of an adverse course of events, 
and of bodily infirmity, on a mind which had 
then lost something of its vigorous tone, and 
had thereby become more exposed to the in- 
fluence of others. But, after all, it must not 
be disguised that these are partial shades and 
blemishes in a character which, taken as a 
whole, presents most powerful claims on our 
admiration and esteem. 

And indeed the general excellencies and vir- 
tues of his character were such as would fully 
make atonement, in the opinion of every candid 
judge, for much greater errors and imperfections 
than those which persons most adverse to his 
memory have ever charged upon him. His piety, 
as the history of his whole life has evinced, did 
not consist merely in the regularity of devotional 
exercise, but was evinced in the influence pro- 
duced on his feelings and conduct, in his re- 
signed acquiescence under all the dispensations 
of Providence, in the subjugation of all inor- 
dinate worldly passions and desires, in the 
ardour and animation of his Christian hopes, in 
the even and cheerful serenity of his mind 
under disappointment and privation. Under 
this disposition of mind, we never find him a 
restless and ambitious seeker of worldly emo- 
luments and distinctions, panting after sue- 



cessive steps of advancement, and jealous of 
those whose interests clashed with his, or who 
rivalled him in his career ; but we rather see 
him shrinking from those honours which the 
good opinion of others forced upon him ; and 
after he was invested with them, bearing them 
with meekness and humility ; less rejoiced at 
attaining what so many others coveted, than 
fearful and anxious lest he should fail in pro- 
perly performing the great duties to which 
he was called. By persons unfriendly to his 
memory it has been said, that he was a gloomy 
ascetic* Bishop Burnet has even thought pro- 
per to call him " a man of monastic strictness 
and abstraction from the world, dry, peevish, 
and reserved, so that none loved him, and few 
esteemed him/'* If by the monastic strictness 
imputed to him, it be merely meant that he was 
simple in all his habits and modes of living, re- 
strained and moderate in his desires, and exact 
in the duties of devotion, it will not, and it need 
not, be pretended that the appellation is wrongly 
applied to him. But if it be further meant by 
the terms, that his religious feelings were of a 
gloomy cast, that he made a merit in practising 
mortifications and self-denial, that he was an 
enemy to the innocent pleasures of life, and 

* BuraetB Own Times, v. i. p. 392. 



that his own turn of mind was morose and 
melancholy; it may safely be asserted, that not 
only is there nothing known respecting his 
private habits of life which justify the impu- 
tation, but that all which we do know respect- 
ing him, proves, the very reverse to have been 
the fact. Especially in his private letters to 
his friends, which afford the best picture of the 
state of his mind at the season of retirement, 
we uniformly perceive a cheerful course of 
thought, without the smallest tincture of sour 
or morose feeling, a disposition to be pleased 
with every thing around him, and to view pass- 
ing events in a favourable light ; in shbrt, every 
thing the most -remote from gloominess of 
temper and spirit. As to Burnet's assertion, 
that none loved him and few esteemed him, 
the reader must judge, from all that has ap- 
peared respecting him, whether the very re- 
verse was not the truth; that all who knew 
him, warmly loved him ; and that, with very 
few exceptions, even those who most differed 
from him in opinion, honoured and esteemed 

Among the more striking features of his cha- 
racter may be remarked a peculiar kindness 
and tenderness of feeling, displayed at all pe- 
riods of his life towards his relations and more 
intimate friends, and especially evinced in his 


latter days in his behaviour towards those who 
differed from him in opinion. Firm and reso- . 
lute as he was in his own decision, pure as were 
his own motives of action, he appears ever to 
have felt that credit was to be allowed to others 
for motives equally pure. We find him there- 
fore continuing his kind and friendly disposition 
towards those from whom he differed most, • 
candidly making all allowance for the upright- 
ness of their intentions, and riot suffering the 
variance of their opinions to become a ground 
of unsocial animosity between them. 

His liberality in affording relief to his friends 
in distress, at a time when his own means were 
far from affluent, has already been mentioned.* 
In the elevated station to which he was after- 
wards raised, he ever showed himself the muni- 
ficent encourager of great and useful under- 
takings. His splendid contributions towards 
the expense of erecting St. Paul's cathedral 
have been before noticed. Another striking 
instance of his liberality is afforded in a dona- 
tion of £1000, in 1680, in aid of the building of 
Chelsea College. By Emanuel College, the 
place of his education, and of his residence 
in the earlier parts of life, his bounty was 
largely and frequently experienced : in ad- 

* See vol. i. p. 98, &c. 


dition to smaller donations made at sundry 
times, he gave nearly £600 towards the erec- 
tion and furnishing of a new chapel. He fur-* 
ther annexed to the college the advowson of his 
native parish of Fresingfield, purchased for that 
purpose ; and, at his deaths he bequeathed to 
it the bulk of his valuable collection of books, 
valued at £2600.* 

Amidst these splendid instances of his public 
liberality, it will not be doubted that his private 

* It has been already stated that the Archbishop, within a 
short period of his death, sent Mr. Needham to remove the 
portion of his library which he had left in a warehouse at Lam- 
beth, to Emanuel College. From the books which he carried 
with him to Fresingfield, he appears to have made a reserve for 
his heirs of those which were suited to the reading of a private 
gentleman, and to have destined the rest for the college. His 
MS. papers also he destined for the same quarter, with the 
exception of such as Mr. Wharton wished to retain. It ap- 
pears, however, that his executors were backward in fulfilling 
his intentions. Mr. Wharton found some difficulty in obtaining 
even those papers which were necessary for his publication of 
Laud's Diary ; and it seems certain that none of the remaining 
MSS. or of the books from Fresingfield, ever found their way 
to Emanuel College. See an interesting letter on this subject 
from Mr. Needham, Archbishop Sancroft*s chaplain, given at the 
end of this chapter. It is stated that Archbishop Sancroft's 
nephews sold his MS. papers for eighty guineas to Bateman the 
bookseller -, of him they were purchased by Bishop Tanner, and 
presented to the Bodleian library. See Anecdotes of British 
Topography, p. 58. 


benevolence was largely exercised, although, 
from not having courted the public eye, it lives 
in no records to claim the encomiums of pos- 
terity. Bishop Burnet has thrown out the in- 
sinuation that he was busily employed in 
amassing a private fortune for his relations; 
and both he* and Dr. Birch,t the biographer of 
Archbishop Tillotson, have stated it as a fact, 
that he actually did raise a large estate out of 
the archiepiscopal revenues. There is the 
fullest reason to believe that both the insinua- 
tion, and the statement of the fact, are without 
foundation. Among the records of his family 
no traces are to be found of his having pur- 
chased any private estate, or left behind him 
what can in any just sense be called a fortune. 
The sum, which, as we have seen, he expended 
in erecting for himself a small dwelling after his 
retirement, and the property accumulated in 
books and furniture, seem to have constituted 
the whole or the greater part of what he amassed 
firom the see. As to Bishop Burnet's insinua- 

* Burnet endeavours to deprive him of all merit in giving 
up his high station for the sake of his conscience^ hy saying 
that '' his deprivation was probably a matter of no great morti- 
fication to him^ as he had raised an estate in the see of Canter- 
bury, which was probably more than sufficient for one of his 
retired disposition.** 

t See Birch*s Life of Tillotson, p. 34G. 


tioDy it is certainly true that, as his personal 
desires were most moderate, so his own indivi- 
dual expenses must have been small ; but there 
is no ground whatever for supposing that he 
contracted his private habits of life from avari- 
cious motives. On the contrary, all accounts 
state that he maintained the hospitalities of his 
high station with the liberality and dignity 
which became him.* Thus, although it cannot 
be allowed that it would have been in any sense 
matter of blame if, after satisfying the just 
claims which his station imposed upon him, he 
had been enabled to save some portion of the 
revenues which he long enjoyed, to benefit his 
family, or, as in the event of things would have 
happened, to supply himself with comforts 
when deprived of his station ; still the fact ap- 
pears to have been otherwise ; he neither ac- 
tually saved a fortune, nor husbanded his re- 
sources with the view of saving ; and, when he 
retired from the see to a private station, he 
appears to have been well nigh reduced to the 
sum of fifty pounds a year, his paternal inhe- 
ritance, on which, on the first prospect of the 

* Bevil Higgons in his remarks on Burnet's character of 
Sancroft, in " a short View of English History," says, " the 
poor of Lamheth were almost maintained hy the munificent 
charities of Sheldon and Sancroft, daily allowances being pro- 
vided for them." 



change, he declared that he could contentedly 

Of his zealous attention to the various duties 
of his elevated station, we have had ample evi- 
dence in the narrative of his life ; but there is 
one circumstance to which we have not suffi- 
ciently adverted ; namely, his unsolicited en- 
couragement and patronage, on several occa- 
sions, of eminent and learned men. It has 
already been stated that he appointed Mr. 
Henry Wharton his domestic chaplain,* and 

* Among his other domestic chaplains during his occupation 
of the primacy^ were persons of considerable eminence. The 
following is a list of all those^ in addition to Mr. Wharton, 
whose names are recorded as haying held this situation under 

Dr. John Batteley. — In 1684, he was Rector of Adisham in 
Kent^ afterwards Archdeacon and Prebendary of Canterbury. 
He was formerly fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge. He 
wrote Antiquitates Rutupinae, being an inquiry into the sn- 
tient state o£ the isle of Thanet, published after his death in 
1811, by Dr. Thomas Terry. He also left an unfinished 
work on the Antiquities of his native town. Bury. His 
editor says of him, that he was '' turn in Grsecis Liatinisque 
Uteris, tum in recentioribus antiquitatis omnimodae scripto- 
ribus versatissimus, — theologus consummatissimas, et con- 
donator creber, ardens, facundus. His brother published the 
Antiquities of Canterbury. 
Henry Maurice. — He was collated in 1685 to the rectory of 
Chevening in Kent, and afterwards obtained other prefer-^ 
ments. He wrote several sermons and other pieces. 


distinguished him with preferments, entirely on 
account of his vast learning and general merits. 
On similar grounds, he appointed, at the re- 
commendation of Isaac Vossius, then canon of 
Windsor, the celebrated Paul Colomesius* to 
the office of his librarian. But the individual 
vsrho reflects the highest credit on his patronage 
is that eminent defender of the true Christian 
faith, Dr, George Bull, afterwards Bishop of 
St. David's. The Archbishop collated him, in 
June, 1686, to the Archdeaconry of LlandafF, 
" entirely," as Mr. Nelson, the biographer of 
Bishop Bull, states,t *' in consideration of the 
great and eminent services he had rendered to 
the church of God by his learned and judicious 

William Needham, fellow of Emanuel College. In 1689, he 
was appointed by Archbishop Sancroft to the Chancellorship 
of St. David*s, and was also Rector of Alresfbrd^ Hants. 
George Thorpe, also fellow of Emanuel. — He was collated to 
the rectories of Bishopsboum and Ickham, in East Kent } 
was afterwards Archdeacon and Prebendary of Canterbury. 
Charles Trumbull, Rector of Stisted, in Essex, and afterwards 
of Hadleigh in Sufifolk. He was deprived for not taking the 
oaths to King William. See Addenda to Ducarel*s History 
of Lambeth Palace, by Rev. Samuel Denne, p. 224. 
* This was a learned French Protestant who settled in Eng- 
land. He was collated by Archbishop Sancroft to Ae living of 
Eynsford, in Kent ^ continued to be his librarian till his depri- 
vation, and died in 1692. 

t See Nelsons Life of Bishop Bull, p. 354. 



works." — " The manner of Mr. Bull's receiving 
the preferment," Mr, Nelson proceeds, in a 
well-merited panegyric on the bestower of it, 
" added very much to his reputation, because it 
was conferred upon him by an Archbishop who 
had a particular regard to the merits of those 
he advanced, without any solicitation or appli- 
cation ; and, indeed, what could be expected 
less from so venerable a prelate, who had all 
those great abilities of learning and wisdom, of 
piety and integrity, joined wit^^ a prudent zeal 
for the honour of God and the welfare of the 
church, which qualified him for that eminent 
station in which the providence of God had 
placed him; and yet at the same time was 
pndued with large measures of mortification 
spid self-denial, contempt of the world, and 
passive courage." 

On the whole. Archbishop Bancroft wasi 
greatly eminent in his generation for the man- 
ner in which he fulfilled all the public and pri- 
vate duties of life. The varioys excellencies 
^d virtues which adorned his character, are 
sufficient to claim fo]r \\im the tribute of admira-r 
tion from posterity in general ; but by the pro- 
testant n^embers of the church of England, his 
name must ever be especially cherished with 
grateful recpllection, for the Qoble stand whicl^ 
he made, at the hour of trial, in defence of the 


religious and civil liberties of the country ; a 
stand to which the preservation of that goodly 
fabric in church and state, which they inherit 
from their forefathers, is principally to be at- 

The following is the letter* alluded to in a 
former note (p. 90.) from Mr. Needham, Arch- 
bishop Sancroft's chaplain, to his brother a 
fellow of Emanuel College, written about a 
month after the Archbishop's death. It affords 
some interesting particulars respecting the 
Archbishop's intentions in disposing of his pro- 
perty ; and shows that Mr. Needham suspected 
at that early period what eventually proved to 
be the case, that the executors were not dis- 
posed to fulfil the declared intentions of their 
lord, further than they could be compelled by 

Alr^ord, St. Stephen*8 day, 1 693, 

'' That my Lord's. Grace went to heaven be- 
fore he had actually made the intended division of his library, I 
do not at all wonder, considering the nature of his distemper, 
which daily flattered him with no unlikely expectations of reco- 
vering so much strength, as might enable him to have his eye 
at least, if not his hand too, in that sort of scholar-like toil, in 

* See Aysoough*s Catalogue in the British Museum. 4223« 




which be always exceedingly delighted. Besides^ having so fre-* 
quently and fully^ (as I conceived^) declared his intention^ and 
having an entire confidence in the integrity of his nephews, he 
might perhaps, after my leaving him, become less solicitous 
about it. But if, through such an omission, there should be any 
considerable diminution of his Grace*s benefaction to the CoU 
lege, it must needs be with manifest injury to his glorious me- 
mory, and a direct opposition to his known intentions. 

Soon after his Grace's decease, Mr. Green gave me an ac- 
count of it, and of the difficulties he apprehended, in acting 
pursuant to what my most honoured Lord had designed. I 
immediately wrote back to encourage him, and to remind him 
of what I knew to be his Grace's intention, (and what, I pre- 
sume, he also knew as weU as myself,) persuading him as ear- 
nestly as 1 could, to have no other regard in that affair> but 
what cspeciaUy answered my Lord's bountiful and generous de* 
signs ', that, in this, he would have the greatest satisfaction, it 
being, (as I thought) a direct duty owing from him to our 
common patron and benefactor. And I persuade myself he will 
not at all deviate from it, if the executors call him to it, in 
whose power, and at whose discretion, I fear, that affair re- 
mains to be managed. I wrote to him the sum of what I re- 
membered his Grace was pleased to discourse to me 3 viz. that 
at length he had determined where to bestow his books, which 
was, the College ; that, as for all those which were at Lambeth, 
he desired they should be speedily put into that Society's ])os- 
session, (and I do not know that he ever took any service I have 
been able to pay him more kindly than the journey I took to 
London on that occasion,) which was done accordingly. At 
my return, with an account of their being lodged safely in yoiur 
College, and delivering the Master's letter of thanks to him, he 
was exceedingly pleased ; as much, I am sure, with the thoughts 
of their being so kindly entertained by you, as you could be 
with the sense of his bounty and affection. 

" During my stay there, he more than once repeated, what 



he had told me hefore he dispatched me to London^ concerning 
his intentions^ as to that part of his hooks at Fresingfield -, viz. 
that he intended part of them to he left for the use of the family 
there^ enough to be a good library for a gentleman ; but that 
the books of learning should be for your College. By which I 
understood his meaning was, that so much of history, geo- 
graphy, and of the arts, as the heir of that family might be sup- 
posed to be inclined to, were the sort he intended for that 
place. And, in particular, I remember he said, he would stock 
them well with practical divinity, but would be more sparing 
as to controversy. By which (as indeed by all he said) it 
seemed very plain to me, that he meant not to leave there a 
library for a scholar or a divine, but for an ingenious and well 
inclined heir to an estate. And this, I conceive, both his 
nephews, Mr. Green, Mr. Sheppard, and Mr. NicoUs, cannot 
be strangers to. For his Grace made these matters no secret, 
and I do not remember that he ever discoursed me alone about 
them, more than once, during my last attendance upon him 5 it 
being his manner to have his friends about his bed (if they 
were within call) when he expressed himself as to this concern. 
And I ever took it as an unquestionable declaration of his 
Grace's design, that all his books, (save only such sorts, and fit 
for such an use, as I before mentioned,) should be given to the 
College, there to be kept entirely together, as a monument of 
his Grace's great affection to learning, and of that delight 
which be took in it himself, during his whole life : he being 
(as he was pleased to tell me expressly,) very unwilling to 
have that library dissipated, the collecting of which had been 
one of the great comforts and pleasures of his life. It was the 
having them thus kept entirely together, which inclined his 
thoughts towards building on your ground. And, therefore, 
should his library be mutilated and maimed of any considerable 
number of learned, critical, classical, or theological books, be- 
fore it come to you, I am sure it must grieve his most learned 
and generous soul, if it be at all capable of any such impressions. 


'' And^ afl to his MSS., he was pleased to declare, that, he 
not having got them into that order he designed, they were his 
chiefest care and concern he had in this world not yet fixed as 
he could wish. He seemed to hope for strength enough to re- 
view them, and order them himself > and did not, (as I remem- 
ber,) name any person to whom he would commit that trust, in 
case himself were prevented by death. Yet thus much he told 
rac, that such of his papers as related to general learning, copies 
of records, and extracts, (of which he had many,) and tran- 
scripts of piecfes which were scarce and curious, which he had 
got together when he travelled, should all go to the College. 
And, for the rest, I don*t remember that he declared his inten- 
tions. This was in September, whilst I was with him. But^ 
before the end of the next month, Mr. \Vharton went to pay 
his duty. And I remembef, when I met him at London, in his 
way towards Norfolk and Suffolk, he told me, (upon my relat- 
ing to him what I now tell you concerning his Grace*s MSS.) 
that his Grace had heretofore told him, that they should all be 
left to him : and then his Grace gave him a great many of his 
papers of great conccfn and value (as he wrote to me) and or- 
dered him to return to him again at a month* s end, if he heard 
he lived so long ; which accordingly he did : and then (as he 
wrote in the lettef which acquainted me with his Grace^s death) 
iny Lord carried him to see his papers, bidding him take away 
at that time what he would of them, promising to leave orders 
that, after his death, he should have whatever he would of them. 
This was a full and unquestionable declaration as to his MSS. 
and the good man was so confident of the effect of it (this being 
but two days, if I reckon right, before his Grace* s translation, 
for so I must dall his departure from us) as to content hhnself 
with looking but perfunctorily over them, and taking away with 
him only a few of them at that time. 

*' It grieves me to tell yoii that he quickly found his error ^ 
it being now made a question whether he shall have them or 



not; there being no orders left (as is alleged) for disposing of 
them that way. 

'^ This, I confess, has an ill glance on your affairs. Yet I 
cannot but hope all will succeed well, though a generous and 
public spirit (such as our most honoured Lords was,) is a 
blessing but rarely dispensed to the world ; and, I doubt, never 
entailed on any family, notwithstanding the fawning flights of 
panegyrics and epistles dedicatory. 

" I have one thing more to tell you, which must be whispered 
into the ears of your worthy society, and in my opinion (con- 
sidering what may possibly be the event of it) ought to be 
reckoned one of your indiscoverable secrets. It is this : — When 
the world began its storm against his Grace, about seven years 
tiince, he actually assigned over all his books to his nephew, 
(his steward,) and the legal right was in him, then, when yoii 
received that part of them which is in your possession. This 
my Lord never told me till I was last at Fresingfield : and he 
was very intent upon having a written instrument, signed by 
his nephew, making them over from him to me, for the use and 
benefit of our College. Clerks were not at hand : but I drew 
up one, and his Grace was pleased to contrive another form ; 
and we were once at work to finish one, out of both, which 
might come up to that exactness and extent of expression 
which his Grace always used. But this seeming to be owing 
only to an opinion that Mr. March, of Lambeth, (with whom 
the steward had lodged the books,) would not readily deliver 
the books to me, without such a writing j and the wording it 
so nicely, as my Lord seemed to wish, being somewhat trouble- 
some to him, in that weak condition in which he then was, the 
steward interposed, assuring us that the books would be forth- 
with delivered to me, upon any short note under his hand^ 
which he gave me accordingly, and it had its effect. 

" Now this, I conceive, gives you title enough to what you 
are already possessed of. But, if confidence in his executors. 



or other accident of his sickness, has prevented his Grace from 
revoking that assignment, I fear a common lawyer would give 
you hut very slender hopes, if ever you should call in his as- 
sistance, to recover by law, what was really designed to be 
yours without your expending one farthing upon it. And, if 
zeal to fulfil my Lord Grace^s will take its steps forward or 
backward, only according to lines figured upon paper or parch- 
ment in form of law, I should fear greatly for the College's in- 
terest, and the honour of his Grace's family. But 1 will hope 
more comfortably : and I tell you this only to give you aim as 
to that sort of address and management towards the executors, 
which you know very well to judge of, in such circumstances 
as these, which do not give so fast hold of the remaining part 
of the library, as yourselves, and, I am sure, our most honoured 
patron and benefactor, would have wished you to have. 

" As to the structure, which his Grace designed for the 
books, I don't know that he came to any fixed resolution about 
it ; neither had he laid aside the thoughts of it, when I received 
his last blessing} his mind still running on a new fabric, though 
of less dimensions than the ground which was measured by his 
first command to me. It was, I think, that very morning I left 
him, that he caused me to be let into his study, (all his books 
being then placed together in that one room, great part of 
which he had formerly shown me in two garrets,) that I might 
view them, and give him my opinion, whether that share, which 
I judged would come to the college, would crowd your library 
too full, if there were new shelves put up under the windows, 
and half classes erected betwixt the whole ones ? I told him I 
thought they might stand so not inconveniently ; but he still 
took time to consider, whether it should be so, or a new fabric j 
and I have heard nothing further since that time." 




No. I. 

The following is copied from a MS. in the 
Lambeth library, hitherto unpublished, con- 
taining copious extracts made by Dr. Birch 
from the life of the learned Henry Wharton, 
written by himself. It is entitled, Excerpta 
ex Vita MS. Henrici Wharton a seipso script^. 
At the beginning is a note in the handwriting 
of Archbishop Seeker to this effect, '* Given 
me by Dr. Birch, his own handwriting." It is 
dated by Dr. Birch, in March, 174|. 

The entire original has never been published, 
and is now probably lost. Dr. Birch, in his 
life of Tillotson,* mentions that at the time he 
wrote, it was in the possession of the Rev. Mr. 
Calamy ; and he gives some short extracts from 
it in his notes. But the loss of the original is in 
great measure compensated by the following co- 
pious abstract of it, containing not only the sub- 
stance of the whole, but all the more important 
parts of it extracted in the author's own words. 

This piece of self-biography must be consi- 
dered a great literary curiosity, as well from the 
celebrity of the person who has thus recorded 

* P. 143. 



the events of his own life, as from the classicd 
character of the style, and the interesting nature 
of many of the remarks, and of the matter con- 
tained in it. 

It is remarkable that a short passage from this 
same life of Mr. Wharton, not given by Dr. 
Birch in the following extracts, is preserved in 
a work where a quotation from it would least 
,be expected. In the Philosophical Transac- 
tions for 1748, (p. 232.) is a short paper, com- 
municated by a medical person. Dr. Mortimer, 
in which he states that, " in a MS. account of 
the life of the Rev. H. Wharton, chaplain to 
Archbishop Sancroft, written by himself," he 
found the following passage, describing his 
having been born with two tongues. He mani- 
festly quotes it as a curious fact in natural history. 

" Mihi quidem ex utero materno exeunti 
duplex erat lingua, utraque ejusdem figurae ac 
magnitudinis ; inferiorem exseindendam esse 
clam&runt mulieres obstetrices ; verum id no- 
luit mater puerpera. Pietati ejus obsecundavit 
fortuna. Lingua enim inferior paulatim emar- 
cuit, et in exiguam pisoque baud majorem lin- 
gulam, quae hodienum manet, contracta est. 
Lingua interim superior ad justam crevit mag- • 
nitudinem, quamplurimis longis profundisque 
sulcis distincta, an vulneribus laniata, dicam : 
quae parallelo situ posita un^ cum lingu4 cre- 
verunt, neque unqu^tm coitura esse videntur." 


( 105 ) 





Natus in agro Norfolciensi, oppido de Wor- 
stead, die ix Novembris, 1664, patre Edmundo, 
A.M. Rectore villae de Upton, in Agro Suf- 
folciensi, et postea Rectore de Sloley, et Vi- 
cario de Worstead, quae beneficia postrema cum 
rectoriA de Saxlingham permutavit. 

Matre Susann^ Burr, filiA Johannis Burr, 
pannificis satis opulenti in oppido Dedham Co- 
mitates Essexiensis. 

Baptizatus 20 Novembris, in ecclesiA oppidi 

1670. Traditus disciplinae Magistri Eldred 
publicae scholae Norwalthamensis praepositi, 
sub quo annum fere eruditus est, et postea sub 
patre suo. 

1676. Feriis natalitiis ducenta disticha de 
quatuor anni temporibus confecit. 

1677. Feriis natalitiis poemation de XII Her- 
culis laboribus plusquam MCC versibus con- 
3tans composuit. 


1678. In Saturnalibus poema de bello Tro- 
jano MMM circiter versibus comprehensum 

De moribus suis haec scribit. 

*' Immensa ac effraenis ilia, quae in me semper 
viguit, laudis cupido; immoderata ilia animi 
ferocia et praeceps iracundia, quae mihi in aetate 
puerili admodum eflferbuit, adeo ut ferocis titulo 
afamiliaribus diu notarer, crebrasque eo nomine 
patris animadversiones perferrem. In hoc 
tamen veniam aliquantulum mereri censendus, 
quod effraenis ille animi impetus paucis mo- 
mentis defervescere soleret, et, sedato semel 
aestu, in gratiam iterum redire adeo non recu- 
sarem, ut summis etiam id votis (sic mihi sem- 
per natura tulit) expeterem, ut eo saltem modo 
injuriam alteri ab iracundia factam, compen- 
sarem. Caeterum, quod summae felicitatis loco 
habendum duxi, postquam e domo paterni 
exieram, et inter academicos versari caepi, de- 
ferbuit et evanuit ille animi aestus, mitemque 
deinceps, comem, et placidum apud omnes me 
exhibui ; adeo ut integro fere abhinc septennio, 
nulli me temer^ iratum meminerim, cunctorum- 
que, quibuscum mihi res erat, amorem et bene- 
volentiam facile demererer. 

Id maximfe verd notandum venit, quod, cum 
ob athleticum corporis robur, et calorem plus 
justo vigentem, in mulierum amorem sim per- 


quam pronus, nulli tamen unquam mulieri, nisi 
perquam invitus, in colloquium descenderim, 
neque uUam ne verbat6 quidem lubenter salu- 
tdrim : ita denique versatus sim^ ut qui me 
intus et in cute nosse sibi videntur, me pessi- 
mum habeant fAia-iyvyov. Nescio an id factum 
fuerit odio superbiae, petulantiae, et ineptiarum, 
quae mulieribus jamdiu inolitae in naturam fere 
jam transienint, quodque serviles illas blanditias 
et obsequia demissa, quae a viris sibi exhiberi 
sequibr sexus expetit et exigit, longe infra 
virilis sex(is majestatem posita existimarem. 
Forsan et isti animi fastidio nonnihil contulit 
mei ipsius arrogantia, literatorum consortio 
penitus indignum judicantis sexum ilium, de 
quo generosae indolis mulier sententiam dudum 
tulit, nil scitu dignum exinde edisci posse. 
Certfe toto, quo Cantabrigiae vitam egi, sexennio, 
quum et ansa crebrd daretur, et latebrae non 
deessent, nulli unquam lasciviae muliebri, ne 
osculis quidem, me indulsisse memini. Id cert6 
novi, me ad hunc usque diem (vigesimum ter- 
tium aetatis annum tum egit cum haec scripsit) 
virginitatem illaesam et intactam conservasse. 

. . . Tanto erga Ecclesiam (Anglicanam) zelo 
praeditus, schismaticos, quos Reformatos vo- 
cant, angue et cane pejus, semper odi." 

1680. — XV Februarii, ad Academiam Canta- 


brigiensem, a patre deductus, et tutelae Johannis 
EUys,* CoUegii Gonvilii et Caii Socii senioris, 
commissus, et xviii die togam academicam 
primum induit, iix pensionariorum minorum nu- 
meruin cooptatus. 

Aprili, logicam studuit, et Novembri ethicam. 
Novembri, CoUegii scholaris factus, dato scho- 
lariatu £5^ reditAs annui. 

1681. — Febniario, philosophicis et mathe- 
maticis se applicat; et, paulo post, linguam Gal- 
licam proprio marte didicit. 

1682. — Octobri. " Isto circiter tempore, se- 
veram, quam hactenus colui, et illibatam con- 
servaveram temperantiam paulatim amittere 
incepi, genioque indulgere, inter aequales co- 
messari, bacchoque strenufe litare, baud amplius 
dubitavi. Factum id primo, ne morosior, et 
plus justo subtristis existimarer. Forsan et 
accessit victoriae amor, quam et in minimis 
etiam rebus stultus ambivi. Id enim mihi a 
nature datum est, ut praegrandem vini men- 

* Mr. H. Wharton's father had formerly been fellow of Gon- 
vil and Caius College. Mr. John EUys, the tutor, is described 
as a person of eminent learning, singular piety, and strictness 
of life 5 and one who deserved highly of the public for his un- 
wearied pains and most exact diligence in the ' education and 
government of youth. See Life of H. Wharton, prefixed to his 



suram illaeso cerebro perpotare possem ; vini 
tamen adeo non appetens, ut nunquam ad po- 
cula nisi perquam invitus descenderem ; certe 
consuetam legendi scribendique diligentiam 
nunquam intermitterem, quin potius temporis 
poculis dati jacturam duplicato posteri diei 
labore resarcirem. Utcunque tamen, seu nimid 
id animi facilitate, seu amicorum consortii amore 
factum, labem istam ante relictam penitus aca- 
demiam excutere non potui. 

1683. — Die ix Maii, in scholis publicis re- 
spondentis vices obii, et de sono aliisque duabus 
quaestionibus philosophicis, miro applausu dis- 

Postero die in rus me proripui ; desaevienti- 
bus enim in oppido et collegio variolis, pater 
me domum jamdiu evocArat. 

Sub id circiter temporis (Augusto vel Sep- 
tembri) a juvenculA quAdam virgine, formae 
satis liberalis et illibatse hactenus famae, summis 
t)landitiis ad stuprum saepe invitatus, parum 
abfuit quin pudicitiae naufragium fecerim. 

Exeunte Septembri, ad academiam me con- 
tuli, et X die Decembris, primarii opponentis 
munere mihi demandato, de cometis, Dei exis- 
tentii et terrae motu, contra Nath. Tate, S. 
Johannis Collegii alumnum, juvenem doctissi- 
mum, summo applausu disputavi. 


1 G84. — Mense Januario, baccalaureatiis* f^ileo 

1685. — Mortem ejus (Caroli II.) immaturam 
summo animi dolore excepi (quod sequitur 
lineA obductum est,) Pontifieii Haeredis fraudes 
et versutiam et secutura exinde mala tum tem- 
poris etiam facilfe auguratus." 

Mense Martio, linguam Italicam intra quinque 
septimanas didicit. 

1686. — Mense Martio, Academiam reliquit 
hAc occasione. " Sub initium ejusdem mensis, 
Guil. Cave, S. T. P. Canonicus Windesoriensis, 
et Ecclesiae de Islington prope Londinum Vica- 
rius ; vir ob multifariam eruditionem ac peni- 
tissimam antiquitatis Ecclesiasticae scientiam 
celeberrimus, grande ac prolixum de Scripto- 
ribus Ecclesiasticis opus jam din meditatus, 
amicis suis, ac imprimis Mag". Barker, CoUegii 
nostri socio, et nominis mei studiosissimo ope- 
ram dedit, ut sibi juvenem inter academicos 
non ineruditum qui sibi opus conceptum partu- 
rienti suppetias ferret, et ad manum esset, con- 
quirerent. Istam mihi provinciam demandavit 

* The writer of his life (see the last note) says, that, on 
taking his bachelor's degree, he had deservedly the fifst place 
given him by the proctor of the University, the learned Mr. 
William Ncedham, fellow of Emanuel College, who was after- 
wards his dear friend, and fellow chaplain at Lambeth to Arch- 
bishop Sancroft. 


Barkerus, quam quidem libentissimfe accepi, 
eo usus consilio^ ut efformatis in melius ac 
feliciter inchoatis sub tanti viri auspicio studiis 
theologicis, post semestrem moram collegium 
redirem, ubi me (ut tunc non vana ferebant 
auguria) socii locus proximfe vacaturus manebat. 
Salarium mihi decern librarum annuum pro- 
misit Dr. Cave, aliaque exinde commoda statim 
obventura exaggeravit Barkerus ; adeo ut, con- 
vasatis mox rebus, abitum molirer. Die itaque 
24 Martii, Londinum eques perrexi, ac die 
proximo in Doctoris Cave familiam me dedi. 

Duram sane mihique ingratam admodum 
provinciam in introitu nactus sum. Doctor 
enim ille, rejecto in Septembrem sequentem 
opens sui inchoandi consilio, levia plerumque 
et desultoria instituit studia. Me sibi itaque 
diu noctuque assidentem varios subinde libros 
sibi obambulanti et plerumque dormitanti ad- 
legere volebat. Morosum adhuc viri ingenium 
et protervos mores, avaritiam autem turpissi- 
mam, odio habui. Latentem tamen animi aegri- 
tudinem hilari fronte obvelavi; quin et ille 
maximum semper erga me affectum professus 
est, et (uti credo) infucatum habuit. Ego in- 
terim studiorum theologicorum fundamenta 
posui, ab Arminii, Episcopiique operum et 
Grotii in Novum Testamentum annotationum 
lectione auspicatus. Linguseque Hebraicae ele- 


menta didici, adeo ut, continuato per semestre 
spatiura horis subsecivis literarum Hebraicarum 
studio, accuratam satis linguae istius notitiam 
consecutus fuerim." 

About the middle of April, goes to Windsor 
with Dr. Cave, where he becomes acquainted 
with Dr. Fitzwilliam and Dr. Doughty, canons 
of that church, and Mr. Robert Cannon, Fellow 
of King's College, Cambridge, and Chaplain of 
Eton College, and with Matthews, a Romish 
priest, who then said mass privately, by the 
king's command, in Windsor Castle. " Vir erat 
supra communem sacrificatorum sortem erudi- 
tus, subtilis satis, ac facundus, omni tamen an- 
tiquitatis ecclesiasticae cognitione penitus des- 
titutus, Romanae superstitioni et pontificiae 
monarchiae perditissimfe addictus, adeo ut Gallos 
Venetosquo schismaticos revera esse affirmare 
nequaquam dubitaret. Huic in vivario (regio) 
saepe obvius manus conserui, protract&que per 
plures horas disputatione saepissime incalui. 
Ille ver6 libidine non minus quam zelo aestuans, 
non solum animum corrumpere sed et corpus 
vitiare in votis habuit. Mihi enim aetatem 
imberbem tum agenti liberalem satis formam 
concesserat natura, cum vultusnitorem nondum 
depascerent variolae. Quo minus animum cor- 
rumperet sacrificulus, obstitit causae, quam 
tuebatur, imbecillitas, et argumentorum a me 


disputant! oppositorum robur. ' Libidinosum 
autem animi votum mollioribus artificiis secta* 
tus est, Maximam enim prae se ferens amici- 
tiaih, me per silvestria et amaena regionis cir- 
cumjacentis loca circumduxit. Latibula, qui- 
bus ante annos aliquot sese abscondere solebat, 
ostendit. Fabulas miscuit, mox impuris ser- 
monibus libidinera provocare conatus in densam 
abduxit silvam, et scelestum animi propositum 
revelavit. Nefandam sacrificuli libidinem de- 
testatus exarsi ; justum tamen animi furorem, 
quantum potui, compressi, ne famae suae homi- 
cidio consuleret vir scelestissimus. Ille etenim 
gladio accinctus incessit ; mihi nulla praeter illi- 
batam animi castitatem arma adfuerunt. Quam 
implere non potuit, excusare incepit libidinem 
bonus sacerdos, se Romae educatum Italicae 
libidinis sordes simul hausisse confessus: me 
forsan in mulierura, ilium in adolescentulorum 
amorem pronum esse. Maximopere demum 
obtestatus est, uti nulli unquam turpitudinem 
suam patefacerem. Sanctissimfe id promisi, 
meque ab ejusconsortio deinceps subduxi, licet 
salutationem obvio non denegaverim, eumque 
maxim^ veneratione a rege honestatum con- 

Die primo Julii, Islingtonam rediimus. 

Die primo Octobris Doctorem Cave Winde- 
soram comitatus sum, ubi operi jamdiu con- 



cepto initium dedimus; baud tamen auspicatd; 
nimis arctis enim positis fundamentis, tota nobis 
postea retexenda fuit tela. 

Die itaque 29 Octobris Islingtonam revcrsi, 
post quatriduum Historiam Literariam (id nomi- 
nis enim operi nostro imponendum erat) iterat6 
auspicati sumus. Scriptonim fere omnium a 
Christo ad annum 370 historiam antea con- 
scripserat Cave, et penes se manuscriptam ha- 
buit. Hanc paucis additis descripsi, integram- 
que lucubrationum ab istis scriptoribus exara- 
tarum seu iis suppositarum historiam proprio 
marte concinnavi, Rar6 enim ilia in Cavi auto- 
grapho habebatur. Praetere^, addendi erant 
minoris notae scriptores quam plurimi, et in his 
omnes haeretici, quos intactos omiserat Cavus. 
Hoc mihi muneris plerumque datum est, quod 
et sedulo perfeci. Summo enim animi studio 
in hoc opus consummandum incubui. Post- 
quam annum 370 transieramus, Integra et de 
novo nobis erat condenda historia, cui ad an- 
num usque 400 juncto opere desudavimus. 
Plures iUe suo, baud pauciores et ego meo, 
marte descripsi. In majoribus vero scriptori- 
bus, puta Hieronymo, Augustino, &c. hanc 
iniimus viam, ut ego vitam illorum perlegerem, 
et in compendium quoddam contraherem ; ille 
ex compendiolo isto historiam scriptoris illius 
concinnaret; quod plerumque fecit, resectd 



unicd aut sdterd sententi^. Mihi tamen semper 
librorum historiae et critices contexendae data 
erat provincia. Quod ut efficerenij innumeros 
fer^ tam veterum quam recentiorum tractatus 
mihi pervolvere necesse erat. 

Saeculorum priorum quatuor historiam ex- 
eunte anno complevimus. 

1687. — Dein, to to mense Januario ac Febru* 
ario dimidio sequentis anni earn relegimus et 
elimavimus, nactiqne CL Usseriibibliothecam 
theologicam MS. earn accurate pervolvimus, 
quaeque nostro proposito idonea viderentur, 

His finitis, ad historiam literariam ulterius 
continuandam nos accinximus^ eMem fer^ usi 
studiorum methodo et ratione, qu& ab anno 370 
ad annum 400, nisi quod Cavi studium et dili- 
gentia paulatim refrigesceret, ac tandem penitus 
evanesceret; adeo ut in saeculi quinti historic 
texend4 permodicum fecerit ; in sexto saeculo, 
parum; in sequentibus fere nihil. Illi enim 
plerumque moris erat mihi scribenti, librosque 
pervolutanti, tacitum assidere, aut fabulas enar- 
rare, foco somniantis ad instar insidere, aut 
per bibliothecam obambulare, libros mihi aflTerre 
ac referre ; de re dubi^ consulenti quaestionem 
solvere, et, quandocunque res tulerit, Londinum 
ad amicos invisendos se subducere; vel, si 

1 2 


domi manendum esset, aegrotum se seu simu- 
lare, seu somniari." 

A fellowship in his college being expected to 
be vacant, and being intended for him, it was 
necessary to qualify himself by going into 
orders; for which purpose, on the 18th of 
February, 168f ,he applied himself to the Bishop 
of Durham (Crew), Peterborough (White), and 
Rochester (Spratt), who had the administration 
of the see of London, " loco episcopi legitimi 
iniquitate regiA anno praecedente suspensi." 
The Bishops of Durham and Rochester objected 
to the ordaining him, as being uncanonical, 
since he had not completed his twenty third 
year. But the Bishop of Peterborough insist- 
ing that he should be examined, he passed 
through his examination relating to the ancient 
discipline of the church, the old errors, heresies, 
and writers, and especially concerning the 
opinions of Origen and Arius, with such success, 
that all the bishops resolved to give him orders. 

'* Finito examine, Episcopus Dunelmensis, 
quem summa mei admiratio ceperat, atque ideo 
forsan major, quod indoctus prae aliis praesul 
esset, summa mihi coram reliquis episcopis 
pollicitus est, si in manus ac familiam ejus me- 
metipsum traderem, se nempe beneficium Ec- 
clesiasticum opimum mihi, quam primum aetas 


mea id permitteret, donaturum esse. Libenter 
quidem et sponte me^, et Petriburgensis admo- 
nitu id feci, summisque ab eo promissis cumu- 
latus discessi." 

Examined the next day by Dr. Beveridge, 
Archdeacon of London, and, on the 26th of Fe- 
bruary, ordained deacon by the Bishop of 
Peterborough, at St. Peter's, Comhill. — A few 
days after, (he) visits the Bishop of Durham, 
according to his orders, who repeats all his 
former promises, but desires him to stay with 
Dr. Cave, till he had taken his degree of M. A. 
and then to come and settle in his family. He 
frequently afterwards visited the Bishop, who 
renewed the same promises. 

" Historiae interim literariae, junctd cum Cavo 
operd, insudavi, licet ipse post annum millesi- 
mum aut parum j^ut nihil conferret. Medio 
eirciter Maio, historiam ad annum usque 1275 
deduxeramus, cum Windesoram pro more abe- 
undum fuit. Die itaque 19 Maii Windesoram 
profectus, ubi post bidui moram Cavus deside- 
riumaltd jamdiumente repostum mihi exposuit. 
Cum me enim e familid ejus sub sequentis 
mensis exitum (prout ipsi denuntiaveram)egres- 
surum expectaret, de incepto opere ad umbili- 
cum perducendo desperare caepit. Me itaque 
rogavit ut Islingtonam reversus finem communi 
operi propediem imponerem. Postulatis ejus 



baud invitus concessit quippe ut opus inchoatum 
tandem aliquando absolveretur^ e communi re 

Windesoram tamen ad diem usque 26 Mali 
substiti, quo Sunderlandiae comes periscelidis 
ordini solenni pomp4 inauguratus est. Die 
postero, Islingtonam redii, ac penso absolvendo 
sedulus incubui, die noctuque labore continuato. 
Familiam mibi curavit honesta quaedam anus^ 
quae eum fili4 su4 absentis doctoris sedes inco- 
lere solebat. 

Statim post reditum Islingtonam advenit 
Cavus, res domesticas curaturus, ac septimanae 
circiter moram fecit. Historiam tamen litera- 
nam adeo parum curavit, ut vix bibliothecam 
suam inviseret, cum me de operis progressu et 
ratione baud semel sciscitatus fuerit. Disce- 
dens ver6 mibi sanctissimfe promisit, me, quon- 
docunque opus typis commissum evulgandum 
esset, famae non minus exinde comparaadae seu 
tituli, quam laboris, participem fore. 

Laborem itaque utcunque gravem non invi- 
tus urgebam; jamque ad M. Antonium Coccium 
Sabellicum perveneram, cum opus ferfe absolu- 
tum gravi <:asu intermissum fuerit." For on the 
25th June, going in the morning to London to 
take a place in the coach to Cambridge, in 
order to take his Master of Arts degree there, 
upon his return home he found a pain in his 


head and back, which proved to be the small 
pox, though he at first neglected the eruption 
as only a rash ; and, the pustules being thrown 
in again, on the 30th of June there was little 
hope of his recovery. Upon the first day, on 
which he took to his bed, he had written to his 
tutor to represent his case, and to desire that a 
friend of his might be installed Master of Arts 
in his room, which was done on the 5th July : 
and on the 16th he was so well recovered, as to 
rise from his bed, and on the 1 st August to go 
abroad. The expense of his illness and cure 
having cost him almost £10, besides what was 
due to Mr. Hodgskins, the apothecary ; his 
father sent him £9, which was the last money 
he received from him; £181 from the time of his 
coming to the University. 

" Pristinas sedes Islingtonae habitare pergens, 
ubi familiam exiguam impensis propriis nutrivi, 
opus Historiae Literariae morbo intermissum 
denu6 aggressus sum, idque ad umbilicum 
medio circiter Augusto feliciter perduxi." 

About this time, he became acquainted with 
Dr. Tenison, at whose request he translated 
into English from the Latin, and digested into 
a more easy and popular form, Mons. Placette's 
MS. Treatise concerning the incurable scep- 
ticism of the Church of Rome, which he finished 
in two weeks. 



In the beginning of September, he began his 
treatise of the celibacy of the Clergy, and 
finished it by the middle of October. 

In the middle of September, the Bishop of 
Durham returned to London. ** Ilium die 22^ 
conveni, promissa ejus, mihi toties iterata, finem 
denu6 consecutura sperans. Veriim levis iste 
ac versipellis episcopus, promissionum non tam 
immemor quam eas parum curans, sibi res adeo 
mutatas esse causatus est, ut promissa implere 
non posset, rectius ver6 noUet ; summum erga 
(me) favorem, reruraque mearum studium animo 
suo infixum esse professus. Summam levis- 
simi viri perfidiam detestatus ad Doctorem 
Tenison rect^ me contuli, cum eo enim mihi 
aliis de rebus agendum est." The Doctor was 
glad to see him, being just going to send his 
servant to him, having the day before received 
a letter from the Honourable John Arundel, 
eldest son of Richard Lord Arundel, of Trerise, 
desiring him to recommend a tutor for his only 
son, and promising to confer on the said tutor 
the living of S el worthy, near Mynehead, in 
Somersetshire, a rectory of £160 per ann. 
Mr, Wharton accepted the offer, but not being 
of age by above a year to be instituted into the 
living, he agreed with Mr. Solomon Cooke, B. D, 
Fellow of Queen s College, Cambridge, and 
brother of Mr. Shedrach Cooke, Lecturer of 


Islington, to hold it for one year, receiving all 
the profits, and then to resign it, and be curate 
for half the income. Mr. Cooke was accordingly 
instituted into the living by the Bishop of Bath 
and Wells, on the 18th of October. 

In the mean time, Mr. Wharton continued in 
Dr. Cave's house, and on the 16th October 
M^rote at Dr. Tenison's request an answer to 
Speculum Ecclesiasticum, by T. Ward, a Roman 
Catholic soldier. 

Dr. Cave and his family returning to town, 
he went to Ridge, between Barnet and St. 
Alban's, on the 25th October ; and, though he 
was seized with a rheumatism, he wrote a ser- 
mon, and preached for the first time there the 
Sunday following, October 30th, for the vicar, 
Mr. Mills, who was absent. 

He returned to London November 2d, and, 
his patron not being come to town, he lodged 
at Mr. Barrow's, in Thames Street. A few 
days after, he was persuaded to undertake a 
confutation of the defence of the Speculum 
Ecclesiasticum; he wrote it on the 14th No- 
vember; and, being joined to the former answer, 
it was published on the 20th. 

His patron, now Lord Arundel by the sudden 
death of his father, came^to London on the 16th 
of that month, and took a lodging in Great 
Queen Street, where Mr. Wharton was intro- 


duced to him by Dr. Tenison, and it was agreed 
that he should come into his family about eight 
days after. During which he went to Cam- 
bridge, in order to examine the MSS. there; 
several eminent divines of London having often 
requested him to make such a search there, as 
he had already done in the royal library at St. 
James's; and Mr. Chiswell, the bookseller, fur- 
nishing the expense of the journey, and having 
a design to publish a collection of English his- 
torians not yet published, desired Mr. Wharton 
to mark what he thought worthy of publication. 
He accordingly went to Cambridge, November 
21st, and having searched the libraries, and 
made extracts, returned to London on the 2d 
December, and went to Lord Arundel's on the 

On the 28th November, his Treatise of the 
Celibacy of the Clergy was published, and his 
" Incurable Scepticism" on the 1 2th December, 
for each of which pieces he received ten guineas 
of the booksellers.* 

* It is stated in his published Life that '' this and his other 
pieces so raised his reputation^ that the Romanists were anxious 
to gain him over to their party^ and the most excellent pieces 
were sent to him out of France for that purpose. But, to use 
his own expression, (probably from this Life of himself, of 
which Dr. Birch has made extracts,) quo magis Pontificionim 
scripta perrolvi, eo leviora et futiliora illorum arguments mihi 


13th of December, he visited the Bishop of 
Ely, who, having read his Treatise of the Celi- 
bacy, expressed great esteem for him, as did 
many other persons of distinction, whom he 
met with that month. 

The same day, the French history of the In- 
quisition of Goa^ was put into his hands by 
several persons of learning, who desired him 
to translate it into English, which he did in a 
few days at his leisure hours, and, having wrote 
a preface to it, on the 24th of December, gave 
the translation to Dr. Tenison. 

Having brought from Cambridge a Treatise 
of Reginald Peacock, Bishop of Chichester, 
proving the Scripture to be the rule of faith, 
some learned friends thinking it proper to be 
pubhshed, in the beginning of the year 1688 
he prepared it for the press, and wrote a pre- 
face to it ; and having finished the work on the 

semper visa sunt. — It is added that^ " what their weaker argu- 
ments failed in^ his own more solid performed -, reducing one of 
excellent parts to our communion^ which he had in his younger 
days heen unhappily prevailed upon to desert : who, in testi- 
mony of the reality of his conversion, received from his hands 
the hlessed sacrament at St. Martin's church, leaving a schedule 
of his abjuration of Popery, in the hands of Rev. Dr. Tenison, 
then vicar there.** — See Life of H. Wharton, preyed to his 
* Wfitte^ by M, imon.^I^fe of H. Wharton, 


7th January, he gave it to the "bookseller, who 
allowed him five guineas for it. 

8th January. He translated into Latin the 
Prologue and Epilogue to Eunomius's Apolo- 
getical Treatise, which he had before tran- 
scribed from a MS. of Dr. Tenison. 

9th and 10th of the same month, he read 
several Latin lives of Ignatius Loyola. 

12th. — He visited the Archbishop of Canter- 
bury, who received him with great civility, and 
promised him some great favours. He left his 
collections relating to the Cambridge MSS. 
with the Archbishop, and carried back an Im- 
primatur for Bishop Peacock's Treatise. 

13th. — Mr. Joseph Watts, a bookseller, de- 
sired him to take care of an edition of Dr. 
Thomas James's Treatise of the Corruptions of 
Scripture, Councils, and Fathers, by the Pre- 
lates, &c. of the church of Rome. 

" Lametham antea se contulerat (Watts) li- 
centiam a Doctore Batteley Capellano Archie- 
piscopi postulaturus. Noluit id dare Batteleius, 
nisi phrases Jamesii duriusculae emoUirentur ; 
utque id auspicat6 fieret, bibliopolam ad me 
remisit. Laborem hand illibenter in me recepi, 
cumque Doctorem Cave et Mag" Cooke horis 
pomeridianis invisissem, rei inchoandse vesper- 
tinas addixi. Horas matutinas spuriae S. Ma- 
carii Homiliae e Lipsid nuper transmissse de 


de exitu animae e corpore Latinfe vertendae im- 

Die 15. — Additamentis nonnullis Tractatura 
de Caelibatu meum auxi. Jamesio emendando 
finem imposui. 

SeptimanA sequente, plurima e vitis Ignatii 
excerpta collegi, aliosque ejusmodi libros per- 
volvi ; jamdiu enim observationes in vitam ejus 
scribendi consilium inieram. 

Ineunte Februario, a Rich. Chiswell bibliopole 
enixh exoratus BuUam Papalem in Coen^ Domini 
e Bullario exscripsi, AnglicA versione ornavi, ac 
praefatione baud ita brevi munitam illi impri- 
mendam dedi, religiosum silentium stipulatus. 

Die 4 Febri. — Magister Needham, quem La- 
methae invisi, versionem Historiae Inquisitionis 
Goanae a me mense Decembri adornatam sup- 
primendam suasit, quippe cum sine maximo 
discrimine typis a me committi non posset. 
Consilio ejus obsecutus sum, et versionis im- 
pressionem in aequiora, quae calidissimis votis 
exoptamus, tempora rejeci. 

Die 10. — J. Watts bibliopola me convenit, 
mihique guineam Jamesii emendati munus ob- 
tulit, utque versionem Dialogi Gallici inter 
Philalethen et Phileraeneum a se nuper procu- 
ratam reviserem et emendarem, rogavit. Rem 
suscepi, ho risque pomeridianis diei 12 perfeci. 

Die 15. — Observationes in Ignatii Loyolae 
vitam scribere incepi. 


Die 26. — A Mag° Gee rogatus ut Tractatum 
de Corruptione Conciliorum mox recudendum 
iterum perlegerem et corrigerem, rem horis 
pomeridianis confeci. 

Die 7 Martii. — Observationibus in Ignatii 
vitam scribendis finem imposui. Titulum li- 
bello indidi, Enthusiasmus, &c.* 

Die 10. — Doct*" Cave Islingtonae invisi; 
cumque ex noHUullis indiciis suspicionem con- 
ciperem ilium me debits famae parte in editione 
Historian Literariae indies festinat^ defraudatum 
ire, colloquium cum illo e^ de re habui. Et 
labor enim a me susceptus^ et ab illo sanct^ data 
fides postul^runt, ut nomen meum in fronte 
operis poneretur. Re ver6 illi demum pro- 
positi a fide pariter ac justitiA resiliit vilissi- 
mum gloriae mancipium, meque nihil omnino 
istius operis ante annum 1275 conscripsisse 
praeter Pontifices Romanos ferh omnes, asserere 
non erubuit. EfFrictam viri firontem miratus, 
maximam indignationem concepi : iram tamen 
utcunque compressi, deque injuria mihi facta 
expostulavi. Graviter aliquandiu altercati su- 
mus; tandem ille se praelo obicem positurum, 
opusque nunquam editurum esse, comminatus 
est. Tot mensium laborem interire aegrfe tuli ; 
Ppntificiorum sarcasmata in utrumque sum ve- 

* It was entitled^ Tractatus de Enthusiasmo Ecdesise Ro- 


ritus, apertoque memet bello immiacere nolui. 
Postquam igitur rixatum est satis, ut nomen 
meum e titulo toUeretur consensi, ek condi- 
tione, ut in praefatione opens, praeclarA mei 
mentione factd, totum opus ab anno 1275, om- 
nesque ab anno 400 Pontifices Romanos sol& 
mei oper^ confectos esse luculenter agnosceret. 
Sanct^ id promisit ille (ipse enim prius obtu- 
lerat) seque formulam mihi intra dies paucos 
missurum esse in se recepit. 

Die 12. — Schedas aliquot Historiae Literariae 
mihi misit Dr. Cave, ut nonnulla, quae mihi e 
re visa fuerunt, adderem, rogans. Literas ad 
eum remisi, quibus, ut promissam formulam 
Uteris statim mandaret, conditionibus praedictis 
nequaquam mutatis, postulavi. Rem ab illo 
petitam, diem totum operi impendens, confeci. 
Tandem, seri nocte, literas ab illo accepi, qui- 
bus ut labori parcerem, postulavit; se enim 
conditionibus istis nequaquam assentire posse, 
mecum tamen e^ de re quam libentissim^ coram 
acturum esse. 

Die itaque 13, eum Islingtonae revisi; formu- 
lam ab eo conscriptam perlegi, veriim appro- 
bare neutiquam volui. Praeter encomium enim 
magnificum, \ongh supra meritum, certh praeter 
votum meum, nihil aliud continebat, qu^m me 
sibi in opere concinnando multifariam suppetias 
tulisse, praecipu^ ver6 in conscribendis Pontifi- 


cum vitis insud^se, majorique diligently in pos^ 
tremis duobus saeculis usum esse. Reject^ for- 
mula, diu altercati sumus ; ille sese opus nun- 
quam editurum esse prae se tulit ; jamque typo- 
graphis inducias dederat. Ipse rem baud aegrfe 
ferre simulavi, sebedasque omnes a me, illo ab- 
sente, conscriptas repetii; meque, siquando 
opus ederetur, dimidiatum tituli bonorem ex- 
pectare obtestatus sum. Scbedas ille reddere 
detrectavit, multasque injecit remoras. Memet 
ver6 acrius repetente, totumque salarium mibi 
ab illo, dum scriberentur, datum repetere pol- 
licito, medelam causae aliquam sibi excogitan- 
dam sensit. Prim6 itaque mibi dimidium, quod 
a bibliopole stipulatus erat, opens pretium dare 
obtulit, mod6 formulam ab illo conscriptam 
acciperem. Cum ver6 illud indignabundus 
respuerem, nonnuUam tamen causae meae jac- 
turam facere baud gravarer, tandem istiusmodi 
conditionem proposuit, ut ipse nonnisi 13 pri- 
ora saecula sub nomine suo evulgaret, ut aux- 
ilium meum in concinnandA istorum saeculorum 
historic, eMem usus formuld, agnosceret; ut 
tria sequentia saecula sub unico mei nomine 
ederentur, titulo appendicis, ut saecula ista mibi 
statim in manus consignarentur, pro libitu 
augenda, mutanda vel resecanda, ac bibliopolae 
pro arbitrio vendenda. His conditionibus tandem 
assensi ; scbedas accepi ac mecum demum retuli. 


Unica tamen pacto inerat difficultas^ quod ipse 
partem saeculi 13 ipso absente conscripseram. 
Earn ille a me petere non erubuit, ipseque 
petenti elargitus sum. Caeterillm notari mere- 
tur, ilium in is to colloquio et \ongh majorem 
operis partem a me scriptam esse^ et dimidia- 
tum tituli honorem a se olim promissum esse 
agnovisse; se ver6 in promittendo nihil aliud 
quam quale formula praedicta prae se tulit, 
voluisse, Deum testem adhibuit, quasi ver6 
promissa ex intentione promittentis, non ei vi 
verborum aestimanda sint. Quod ad prius 
ver6 attinet, memet omnia sponte, non mandato 
ejus, conscripsisse allegavit, quasi demum omnes 
authores libros sponte suA non conscriberent. 

Die 14. — Alias mihi saeculi iv. schedas misit, 
nonnihil, quae mihi necessaria videbantur, addi- 
tamentis augendas. 

Die 17. — Duas a R. Chiswell bibliopole pro 
versione et praefatione Bullae in CoenA Domini 
guineas accepi; ac schedas de Enthusiasmo 
Ecclesiae Romanae, quas licenti^ munitas a 
Mag^ Needham hesterni nocte praesens recepe- 
ram, illi imprimendas tradidi. 

Die 29. — A Doctore Cave rogatus, Graecum 
Pseudo-Dorothei Tractatum a CI. Dodwello ex 
Bibliothec^ Bodleian^ exscriptum Latina ver- 
sione donavi. Istum Graeco textui adjunctum 
post aliquot diesCavus in Historic su^ Literari4 


130 APPEfH)IX. 

imprimendum curavit, ne minimi nominis mei 
mentione factd, versionem sibimet ipsi ascribere 

Aprilisdie 7. — ^Ab R. Blome geographo regio 
oratus, opus quoddam Novi Testamenti histori- 
cum, quod ipse imprimi fecerat, castigavi, re- 
sectis nonnuUis, quae Papismum spectare vide- 
bantur. Hie enim utriusque Testamenti Histo- 
riam iconibus eximiis illustrandam meditatus, 
historiam ejus a Gallo quodam Religionis Pon- 
tificiae conscriptam Anglic^ vertendam cura- 
verat, ut eara iconibus apponeret. 

Die 12. A D** Archiepiscopo evocatus Lame- 
tham profectus sum, cum schedas nonnullas 
MSS. CP Usserii, imprimis ver6 Historiam dog- 
maticam S. Scripturae public^ perlectae, mihi in 
manus tradidit, utque illam exscriberem ac dein 
typis committerem, mandavit, meque duabus 
guineis, amicitiae suae, ut dixit, tesser^, donavit. 

Die 16, ac septiman^ sequente, quicquid ap- 
pendici meo ad Historiam Literariam defuit 
supplevi. Die 23, praelo commissa est. 

Die 27, — Historia InquisitionisGoae typis im- 
pressa in lucem prodiit. Illam licentift muniri 
frustra saepius apud Lametham tentav eram, adeo- 
que supprimendam decreveram. Tandem M. 
Wrench mihi nomen bibliopolae cujttsdam ho- 
nesti Knap ton detulit, qui rem libentissim^ sus- 
ciperet; sique aliquid clanclulum in lucem exire 


vellem, ut illius curae committerem, petiit. Ver- 
sionem itaque Inquisitionis Goanae D** Wrench 
tradidi ab illo bibliopolae committendam, ek 
tamen lege ut nomen meum prorsus taceret ; ut 
schedas omnes exscribendas curaret, antequam 
eas bibliopolse aut typographo traderet ; utque, 
proposito bibliopolsB rei subeundae discrimine, 
rem totam illius arbitrio committeret. Factum 
est ; ego schedas meas a D, Wrench paulo post 
inchoatam impressionem recepi. 

Die 30. — Detectum est bibliopolae, qui His- 
toriam Inquisitionis Goanae imprimendam cura- 
verat, nomen. lUe, ut tempestatem capiti im- 
minentem evitaret, ad Doctorem Midgeley, cui 
praeli moderandi provinciam rex commiserat, 
properavit, datdque ilium mercede conduxit ut 
editionis seu evulgandae seu iterandae veniam 
daret. Fecit id Midgeleius, hdc imposit^ 
bibliopolae lege, ut libello praemitteret praefa- 
tionem, quae, coUaudat^ regis dementi^, nullum 
esse Inquisitionis denu6 in Angliam a Pontificiis 
inferendi metum praedicaret. Fecit bibliopola, 
me penitus inconsulto; omnia autem mihi indies 
enarravit D""* Wrench, cui fortiter praecepi, ut 
modis omnibus caveret ne in praefatione nov4 
cudendi mihi fieret injuria, aut interprets no- 
men praeponeretur. Ego enim ejusmodi praefa- 
tionem nee condere nee approbare volui. 

Die 1"^ Maii. Schedas cdiquot, quas ex codice 




Usseriano descripseram, ad Archiepiscopum 
Cantuariensem, uti mihi in mandatis dederat, 
detuli, ut methodum a me initam pervideret. 
Visara ille approbavit, utque bonis avibus opus 
inceptum prosequerer, jussit, 

Eodem die, Tractatus de Enthusiasmo Eccle- 
siae Romanae inlucera prodiit; mihi 14 guineas 
ex pacto numeravit Rich. Chiswell. 

Die 17. — ^Appendicem Historiae Literariae su- 
premam jam manum passam ad Doct*" Batte- 
leium Lametham detuli. D"" Wrench me La- 
metham comitatur, qui quinque guineas a Ja- 
cobo Knapton bibliopole mihi man^ detulerat. 

Die 19. — Ridleii Episcopi Tractatum, alias- 
que disputationes de Eucharisti4 recensui, et ex 
Poineti Diallactico* excerpta quaedam selegi, eo 
fine, ut simul impressa in vulgus emitterentur. 
Id enim a me quinque abhinc mensibus postu- 
l^at Tenisonus, precesque saepius renovdrat. 

Die 20. — Praefationem conscripsi. 

Die 21. — Schedas Rich. Chiswell consignavi. 

Die 31. — ^Archiepiscopum invisi, eo animo 
ut licentiam praedicandi per totam provinciam 
Cantuariensem obtinerem. Id me suasit Teni- 
sonus, aliique ex amicis potiores. Eo enim res 
tandem devenerat, ut, dioecesium plurimarum 
curd, ad episcopos regi penitus addictos devo- 

* Diallacticon, written by Dr. John Poynet^ Bkhop of Win- 
chester^ in the time of Edward VI. 


\\xtA, cordatioribus theologis preedicandi munus 
interdictum iri, ni Metrppolitana . authoritas 
intercederet, verendum esset. Nullam antea 
ejusmodi facultatem concesserat Archiepisco- 
pus ; adeoque earn a me non petitam esse ma- 
luisset: petenti tamen, ob officium ecclesiae a 
me praestitum, uti humanissim^ praedicavit, non 
contemnendum, denegare noluit; adhibit^ ta- 
men protestatione se talem licentiam nuUi post- 
modum alii daturum esse. Discedentem rogavit 
Archiepiscopus ut in capeI14 sud. Lamethani, 
ipso audiente, Dominic^ sequente (quae Ilf wixorn 
fait) praedicandi munus auspicarer. 

Die 3 Juniiy coram Archiepiscopo loco dicto 
concionatus sum in illud Joann. xiv. 26, 27, Ista 
vobis dixi, &c. utque ab aliis postea intellexi, 
lautum satis provinciae non infeliciter gestae 
suffragium ab illo retuli. 

Die 25. — Episcopum Assaphensem* invisi, a 
Tenisono monitus, ut ilium de libro quodam 
Panormitani raro, qui penes ipsum fuit, con- 
sulerem. Incredibili planfe favore me excepit 
Praesul eruditissimus, meique amicitiam ade6 
gratam sibi futuram esse contestatus est, ut 
longum satis iter lubenter susciperet, familiari- 
tatis mecum ineundae ergo. Post finitas salu- 

* Dr. William Lloyd j afterwards made Bishop of Lichfield 
and Coventry; under which name he is mentioned by Mr. 
Wharton iu the latter part of this diary. — See p. 150, &c. 



tationes et de re literari^ colloquium, de rebus 
publicis verba fecimus. Is fausta omnia spe- 
rare jussit; adeo plebis enim animos injustiti^ et 
tyramiide exacerbasse Pontificios, ut omnes tu- 
multu facto arreptisque armis illos ex Anglic 
quam citissim^ eliminaturi essent, regemque ip- 
sum (quod factum nolumus) aut exilio aut nece 
mulctaturi. Utcunque ver6 fieri nullo modo 
posse, ut Papismus in AngM ultra annum reg- 
naret. M iram rerum catastrophen adesse, cui, 
si ipse sociique Episcopi, praesenti Pontifi<- 
ciorum rabie erepti, superfuerint^ onmi modo 
curaturos, ut Ecclesia sordibus et corruptelis 
penitus exueretur, ut sectariis reformatis reditfis 
in Ecclesiae sinum exoptati occasio ac ratio 
concederetur, si qui sobrii et pii essent: ut 
pertinacibus interim jugum levaretur, extinctis 
penitus legibus mulctatoriis; utque Cancella- 
riorum, Officialium, et curiarum Ecclesiastica- 
rum abusus funditus tollerentur. Fus^ isthaec 
declaravit Episcopus, dum ab hospitio ejus 
ad Thamesis ripam in vehiculo uno devehere- 
mur; ille enim Lametham pergebat. 

Die 29. — Archiepiscopus caeterique episcopi 
tribunali regio judicandi sistebantur. 

Julii die 26. — Usserii specimen Historian Dog- 
maticae totum exscripseram, adeoque operi fas- 
tidioso finem imposui." 

Sept. die 10. — ^The Archbishop sends for him 


in the evening and presents to him the Reetory 
of Sundridge in Kent, vacant by the death of 
Mr. Maiden, who had married his Grace's 
niece, and at the same time made Mr. Wharton 
his chaplain. 

Die 18. — ^Visits Mr. Boyle; — " ilium studiis 
theologicis librisque omnifariis de Christianae 
rehgionis veritate pervolvendis intentmn depre- 

Oct. 8. — Removes into the Archbishop's fa- 

23''. — Presented by the Archbishop to the vi- 
carage of Minster, in the Isle of Thanet, vacant 
by the death of Dr. Castilian, Dean of Ro- 
chester, upon which he resigns Sundridge, 
which was given to Mr. Kidder. 

The Archbishop the same day gives Mr. 
Wharton £20 towards furnishing his chamber. 

Nov. 11. — Ordained Priest by the Arch- 
bishop ; the only instance, perhaps, of an ordi- 
nation by an Archbishop since the Reformatioil. 

15**. — Inducted into the Vicarage of Minster, 
which he lets for £200, reserving to himself the 

Decembris 11. — Abjectis regni insignibus, 
ipse Rex sese in fugam dedit. Periit cum eo 
Pontificiorum spes omnis. Faxit Deus ut male- 
feriatorum hominum istiusmodi ambitio atque 
impotentia nunquam Angliam iterum lacessat^ 



ut tandem Ecclesiae ab inimicorum insidiis 
liberatae respirare et reflorere liceat. 

Die 16. — Rex urbem deductus est, ubi, cum 
more solito perditissimorum Pontificiorum e 
latebris ad adventum ejus erumpentium satel- 
litium acciret, iisque solis aurem praeberet, ex- 
clusis cordatioribus viris, Pontificiosque dimit- 
tere praefractfe recusaret, Princeps Auriacus, 
proceresque regni, illi urbe cedendum esse de- 
nunti^runt, et Belgarum turm4 stipatum Ro- 
cestriam deduci cur&runt die 18**. 

1689. Jan. 6. — Usserii specimen historiae 
controversiarum, quod olim, hortanteArchiepis- 
copo, descripseram, illique in manus consig- 
nAram, ab illo repetii, ut opus inceptum con- 
cinnarem, disponerem, augerem, et praelo ap- 
pararem. Huic provinciae ad medium usque 
Martii mensis sedul6 incubui, cum tandem 
feliciter absolvi. 

Die 20. — Historia Literaria evulgata est. Pro 
appendice mek recepi a Richardo Chiswell 
bibliopolA triginta libras. 

Febr. 13. — Gulielmus Princeps Auriacus et 
Maria uxor. Rex et Regina Angliae ex solemni 
Ordinum decreto proclamati sunt. Rem Archie- 
piscopus neutiquam probavit, atque adeo neque 
principes ab adventu suo inviserat, neque Ordi- 
num Conventui aderat. Aderant eo die in ca- 
pellA nostrA duo Reginae capellani, qui Archie- 


piscopum ab iM missi convenerant, ut bene- 
dictionem ejus Majestati suae impetrarent. 
Archiepiscopo salutato, in capelli manebant, 
observaturi, annon pro rege et regini preces 
faceremus. Egomet solus e capellanis domi 
aderam. Cautfe itaque agendum fiiit, ne Archie- 
piscopo mek culpi mal6 cederet. Ilium igitur 
accessi, de re dubid rogaturus. Rem ille meo 
arbitrio tacitfe commisit; neque enim se mihi 
novum aliquid mandare velle dixit. Antea 
etiam preces pro libitu Capellani mutaverant 
sine uM ejus jussione aut reprehensione. Idem 
itaque mihimet licere arbitratus, cuique salus 
Archiepiscopi cara erat, et firmum regibus, 
quoscunque Deus nobis praeponeret, parendi 
^propositum, pro Rege Gulielmo et ReginA Mari^ 
Deum in precibus publicis interpellavi. Noctu 
me accersivit Archiepiscopus, et vehementer 
excandescens, edixit ut aut reges novos in pre- 
cibus nominare omitterem, aut a precibus in 
capelU habendis cessarem. Hos enim, vivo 
Jacobo, reges esse non posse contendebat. Id 
animi illi indiderant episcopi Norvicensis, Cices- 
trensis et Eliensis, pessimo Ecclesiae fato. Hinc 
enim Archiepiscopus, cui facile fuisset res omnes 
pro lubitu statuere, omnem in republic^ autho- 
ritatem usque adeo amisit, ut Ecclesia ipsius 
causd deinceps maxime periclitari caeperit." 

June 14.— H. Wharton took the oath of alle- 


Augusti die 8. — ** Cum apud Magistrum Fra- 
ser fuissem, ille mihi monstravit duos rarissimos 
libros, alterum de Vit4 Cardinalis Poll, alterum 
de disceptatione inter legates Anglum et Galium 
in Goncilio Constant, de prioritate. lUos typis 
iterum mandandi me cupido incessit. Man- 
dandos tradidit Fraserus. Eos itaque leviter 
emendatos, brevique admonitione sub typo- 
graphi nomine praemunitos, Jacobo Adamson 
bibliopolae imprimendos dedi." 

Sept. 6th. — Presented by the Archbishop to 
the rectory of Chartham, near Canterbury, 
vacant by the death of Dr. James Jeffreys, 
Canon of Canterbury, who died the 6th. 

1 1 . — Receives a dispensation for holding his 
two livings from the Dean of Canterbury, Dr. 
Tillotson, who was appointed by the Chapter 
to exercise the metropolitical jurisdiction. 

Oct. 5. — Inducted into Chartham. 

Nov. 7. — ** Prodiit Usserii historia de scrip- 
turis et sacris vernaculis, quam patroni jussu 
edendum curaveram, notisque et auctario locu- 
pletaveram. £o nomine 33 libras a Richardo 
Chiswell bibliopoli accepi. 

Die 14. — D*" Josepho Edwardo salarium 
trium mensium in antecessum dedi. Ilium enim 
Novisico accersiveram, ut codices MSS. mihi 
exscriberet. Consilium enim jamdudum inie- 
ram ihistoricos aliquot ecclesiasticos ineditos in 
lucem donandi, nonnuUos et ipse descripseram. 


Jam, bibliopole rem aggresso^ typographus 
opus inceperat," 

1690. Feb, 1 — The Archbishop refusing to 
take the oaths, Mr. Wharton is disappointed of 
the preferments designed for him by that pre-^ 
late, as the chancellorship of Exeter, and 
canonry of Canterbury, &c. 

Oct. 13. — Agrees with Dr. Nixon, Canon of 
Canterbury, to exchange his rectory of Chart* 
ham with the Doctor's living of St. Michael, 
Queenhythe, if he could obtain a dispensation 
for holding with it his vicarage of Minster. 
*' Rem illico aggressus sum, et dispensationem 
sine summi difficultatef et invidi^ maxima obti- 
neri non posse sentiens, ab incepto destiti. 
Semel quidem Jo. Sharp Decan. Cantuar. pin- 
guem suam Vicariam S. ^gidii cum utroque 
meo beneficio comrautare pactus fuerat : verum, 
amicis et episcopis consultis, ipse vir maxima 
necessarius urbe excedere neutiquam est per- 

In the middle of November, upon a false re- 
port of the death of Dr. Pindar, rector of 
Brastead, the Bishop of St. Asaph, with the 
concurrence of the Bishop of London, and at 
the desire of Archbishop Sancroft, obtains of 
the King the promise of that living for Mr. 

'' Integri hyeme, operi de praesulibus AngUaa, 


olira suscepto, absolvendo incubui. Parti primae 
et secundae manum supremam imposui medio 
mense Martio sequenti. Partem tertiam in- 
choavi ; sed nimio labore fatigatus, earn in aliud 
tempus rejeci. 

Patronus adhuc in aedibus Lambethanis mo- 
rabatur. Frequens de successore substituendo 
facta est mentio, nil autem effectum est. Ipse 
illi constanter adhaesi ; et inter alia, opus D"* 
Mauritii de episcopatu adversus Glarksonum 
Puritanum typis exprimi curavi, ab authore 
rogatus. Schedas perlegi, emendavi, auxi, prelo 
commisi, errata typographorum sedulo correxi." 

While he was at Canterbury, towards the end 
of March and beginning or April, a canonry of 
that church falling vacant by the death of Dr. 
Pearce, he writes to the Bishop of St. Asaph 
to procure it for him, as Dr. Tenison likewise 
endeavoured to do without his knowledge. 
But in vain, the king and queen having half a 
year before promised it to Dr. Isham, the 
Bishop of London's chaplain. 

" Eodem tempore, dum in CantiA adhuc moras 
traherem, bibliopola propositiones quosdam 
pro vendendo primo Angliae Sacrae volumine, 
quod praelo jam pene exierat, emisit, et in iis 
editoris nomen praefixit, addito officii, quod 
apud ArchiepiscopumCantuar. gerebat, nomine. 
Id quidem fecit, me plan^ invito, et saepius in- 



hibente. Factum autem plurimis displicuit, 
qui eo animo factum esse credi voluenint, ut 
Archiepiscopi titulus invito potestate regid de- 

1691. Mart. 27.— A Doctore Aucher Sub- 
decano rogatus, in Ecclesi^ Cathedrali Cant, 
concionatus sum. In oratione concioni prae- 
missii pro Archiepiscopo Cant, more consueto 
oravi. Id plurimi ddgrh tulerunt ; quidam etiam 
non infimi nominis^ Archiepiscopi nomine audito^ 
caetum statim reliquit ; plures autem laudirunt. 
Mihi indecorum visum est Patroni titulum di- 
mittere^ antequam regia Majestas aliquid de 
ipso statuerit, aut successorem illi designArit. 
Quinimo in plurimis civitatis Londinensis eccle- 
siis id saepius feceram^ neque aliquis unquam 
antea id mihi vitio verterat. 

Sponte mihi obtulit Episcopus Assavensis se 
curaturum, ut regiae Majestati a sacris ordinariis 
adsciscerer. Regina, cui res ejusmodi pro arbi- 
trio dispendas (disponendas ?) Rex commiserat, 
legem jamdiu statuerat, ut quicunque in capel- 
lanorum numerum adsciscendi essent, concio- 
nem prius coram se haberent, speciminis seu 
probationis gratis. lUam autem subire condi- 
tionem penitus recusavi. Regina itaque ab 
Episcopo rogata die 26 Aprilis conditionem 
mihi relaxavit, meque in capellanorum ordinem 
statim admitti jussit. 


Id subodoratus Episcopus Sarisburiensis,*iD- 
fensissimus patroni ej usque familiarium adver- 
sarius, reginam adiit, multisque calumniis me 
proscindens, ipsam a consilio revocavit. Summa 
accusationis hue rediit, me Majestati regiae 
inimicum esse, de jure ipsius mal^ sentire; 
ssepe querulas, aonnunquam etiam seditiosas, 
voces emisisse ; nuper autem pro Archiepiscopo 
exauthorato in concione public^, Deum inter- 
peMsse, ipsiusque nomen in propositionibus de 
.primo Angliae Sacrae volumine edendo posuisse. 
His calumniis regina, aliquantulum mota, Epis- 
copo Assavensi dixit se inaudivisse me praeju- 
dicia mea nondum exuisse, adeoque se velle 
ut admissio mea differretur, donee sibi certiora 
constarent. Hoc audito, Episcopus Assavensis 
Episcopi Sarisburiensis calumnias detexit, re- 
ginamque, ne se mendaciis abduci pateretur, 
exoravit. Ilia Episcopum clementer audivit, 
nil autem respondit. Assavenis Sarisburiensem 
rectA petiit, et coram novo Archiepiscopo aliis- 
que eximiis personis illi mendacium et calum- 
niam exprobrat. 

Hoc circit^r tempore (Maio exeunte), junctA 
cum Doctore Hooperf operi, multa in defen- 
sionem pluralitatum beneficiorum ecclesiastic 

* Dr. Btumet. 

t llie celebrated Dr. G. Hooper^ afterwards fucoessiyely 
Bishop of St. Asaph^ and of Bath and Wells. 


corum compilavi. Compilandi enim munus 
mihi datum est, componendi Hoopero, qui opus 
susceptum vix inchoaverat quando Decanus 
Cantuarensis inopinat6 creatus est. 

Episcopum Sarisburiensem jamdiu pudere 
cseperat calumniae mihi intentatas. Misso 
itaque ad me saepius Richardo Chiswell, omnia 
amicitise atque benevolentiae officia spopondit, 
mod6 ipsum inviserem. Renui aliquantisper. 
Demum autem die l"* Junii ipsum in hospitio 
suo invisens, incredibili honore ab illo sum re- 
ceptus. Alia mitto; se promotionem meam 
pro virili curaturum non rogatus promisit, et 
post biduum, in Episcopi Assavensis hospitio 
obviam mihi factus, affirmavit se suspicionem 
omnem de me conceptam de Reginae animo 
exemisse, meritaque mea apud illam ita deprae- 
dic^sse, ut ipsa dignitatem aliquam eximiam 
mihi brevi conferendam esse apem faceret. 

Die 4* Junii, prodiit Angliae Sacrae pars prima. 

Die l?"" Junii, aulam regiam adii. Episcopus 
Assavensis mihi die hesterno dixerat Reginam 
mihi maxim^ favere, atque etiam velk, ut ad 
manus ipsius osculandum accederem. Nolui 
tamen id obsequii clementissimae Principi prae- 
stare, dumpatronus aulae iavisusapudLametham 
moraretur, ne huie pariim gratus sen fidus vi- 
derer. Episcopum itaque Assavensem rogavi, 
ut me h^c in re apud Reginam excusaret, quod 
et dextr^ effecit. Regina enim Episcopo con- 


firmavit se Episcopi Sarum palinodiam ac- 
cepisse, atque excusationem meam benign^ ac- 
cipere: jussitque ut, quam primum patronus 
Lambeth^ excederet, memet ipsi praesentem 

Die 23. — Patronus Lambetham nocte ser;\ 
reliquit, capellanis penitus insciis. 

Die 26. — HorS. noni matutind, aulam regiam 
adii, et ad Reginam adductus a D'* Stanley 
Sacrarii Regii Clerico, manus ipsius deoscu- 
latus sum, vultu benignissimo ab ill4 exceptus. 

Die 8 Julii. — Mane EpiscopumWigorniensem* 
adii, ut ante discessum (cum D'* Hoopero ad 
Cantuariam) ilium salutarem. Hie mihi renun- 
ciavit se ante paucos dies Reginam maximis pre- 
cibus interpell^sse, ut praemia non indigna mihi 
quam citissim^ conferret. Regina favorem erga 
me suum verbis abund^ contestata est ; utque 
praemia mihi non deessent, se curaturam spo- 
pondit. Interim autem id tam citd effici non 
posse dixit. Hie etiam taceri non debet, Episco- 
pum Sarisburiensem in cameram regiam intrdsse, 
statim post deosculatas a me manus regias die 26 
Junii, et mihi tunc asseverisse, se turn Reginam, 
tum Archiepiscopum Cant, pro favore et prae- 
miis mihi exhibendis interpeMsse, suamque 
amicitiam et favorem mihi nunquam defuturum. 

Die 7. Julii, .... (calamo obducta sunt quae- 

* Dr. Peter Mew. 


dam verba,) Hooper, virginem long& formosis- 
simam (apud — stedium) iavisi. Ilia suum mihi 
amorem haud obscur^ insinuavit. Quum autem 
dote careret, ego verba ipsius intelligere nolui. 
Tunc etiam mihi narravit virginem quandam 
lectissimam, mihi henh notam .... mihi fcedere 
coDJugali sociari perquam cupere. Hanc etiam 
rejeci, qu6d dos ipsius satis ampla non esset. 

Die 1 Sept. — Ad Decani Cantuarensis eedes 
in villi de Eastwoodhay, in agro Huntoniensi 
positas, iter feci, et apud ipsum integris tribus 
septimanis moratus sum. Partem hujus tem- 
poris aliquantam clericis et generosis circum- 
vicinis impendi; maximam autem scribendae 
pluralitatum apologiae. Id enim munus olim a 
se susceptum Decanus implere jam detrectavit, 
et in me rejecit. Scriptam a me Apologiam 
Decanus revisit, multisque in locis communi 
consilio emendari fecit. 

Die 25. — Apologiam Roberto Clavel biblio- 
polae imprimendam consignavi, acceptis ab eo 
decem libris, et perpetui silentii fide. 

Die 2 Octobris. — Episcopum Wigorniensem 
invisi. Is me summo semper amore prosecutus, 
nunc etiam amicitiam et favorem suum mihi 
plenissim^ contestatus est. De clandestinis 
Episcopi Sarum adversus me insidiis et accu- 
sationibus nondum cessantibus, certiorem me 
fecit, et sive ab illo sen ab aliis delatam fuisse 



nuper ad Archiepiscopum calumniamde querelis 
et dicteriis in ipsum et alios emissis. Con- 
suluit itaque ut Archiepiscopum adirem. Quod 
maxim^ autem optandum erat, retulit mihi Epis- 
copum Londinensem nocte hestemi ipsum in- 
visisse, et narrdsse quo modo regina eo die, 
motu proprio, multa de me interrogaverit, viz. 
ubi loci agerem ; quid jam molirer ; quosnam 
honores ecclesiasticos obtinerem ; ac dein sub- 
junxerit, pariim adhuc decorum esse, ut Archi- 
episcopi deprivati capellanum inter capellanos 
suos cooptaret: se autem curaturam, ut nee 
ipsius favor, nee laboris praemia, deesent. Post 
prandium, Archiepiscopum adii ; et in interius 
cubiculum ab ipso receptus, privatum cum illo 
colloquium per integras duas horas habui. Li- 
centiam residendi apud Cantuariam petii, et 
facile obtinui. De rumoribus iniquis ad ipsum 
delatis expostulavi. et nuUam ab ipso fidem 
fuisse adhibitam, responsum accepi. Multis 
mihi denique favorem suum et amicitiam pro- 
misit, et concione sud, coram Regind nuper ha- 
bit^ donavit. 

Sub initium mensis Novembris, evulgata est 
Pluralitatum Apologia a me conscripta." 

30 Nov. — Seized v^ith a cholera morbus, of 
which he had like to have died at Dr. Bat- 
teley's at Canterbury. 

1692, die 29 Aprilis. — " Lambetham perveni. 


et in dedibus Doctoris Hooper diebus 1 5 mora- 
tus, Bedae Coitimentaria in Genesin et Canticum 
Abacuch ex codicibus MSS. Lambethanis a me 
olim descripta, revisi; Aldhelmi Librum de 
Laude Virginitatis ex codice MS. BibliothecsB 
Lambethanae antiquissimo emendavi ; atque ista 
omnia, un^ cum opusculis Bedae historicis a 
Wardo olim editis imprimenda Roberto Clavel, 
bibliopolae Londinensi, consignavi. 

Sub initium hujus mensis, pars secunda 
Angliae Sacrae evulgata fuit. Nunc itaque cum 
Richardo Chiswell bibliopole rationes seu cal- 
culos subduxi; et pro utrAque parte ab illo 
ducentas (paulo plus) libras accepi." 

13th April. — Accohipanies the Dean of Can- 
terbury, Hooper, to Exeter. 

Die 15. — " Sarisburiam appulimus, e^dem- 
que nocte Episcopum Sarisburiensem invisimus. 
Episcopus ille multis nominibus mihi male vo- 
luit, praecipufe autem, quod de conscript^ Plu- 
ralitatum Apologia me suspectum habuit. 
Faucis itaque, antequam Londino discesserim, 
diebus, ad Richardum Chiswell scribens, ei 
praecepit, ut me de authore istius libri interro- 
garet. Chiswello respondi, me Episcopum 
Sarisburiensem quantocius domi suae visurum ; 
atque tunc commodam Episcopo, si interroga- 
ret, responsionem daturum. Examen itaque 
expectavi. Episcopus autem multa quidem 



contra corruptam Ecclesiae disciplinam, et Cleri 
mores et avaritiam declamavit; quaestionem 
tamen mihi direct^ non proposuit ; nonnuUa de 
residenti^ pluralistarum debiti a me tanquam 
optim^ sciente sciscitari coatentus. Ego verb 
rem a me neutiquam fuisse consideratam prae- 

DieLunsB (13 Jimii). Decanus familiam secum 
trahens Londinum pergit, me apud Sarisburiam 
relicto. Me enim impulit animus Ecclesiae 
Cathedralis et Consistorii Episcopalis monu- 
menta et registra pervolvere. Commodum 
enim accidit, Episcopum tunc abesse, qui mihi 
apud Exoniam moranti paul6 ante per Rich. 
Chiswell denuntiaverat, me ecclesiae suae regis- 
tra ipsius favore nunquam visurum ; quinimb se 
omnimodae amicitiae renuntiare, quandoquidem 
Apologiam Pluralitatum verbis conceptis abne- 
gare noUem. 

Die 17 Junii, Londinum redii, pristinumque 
in Decani Cant, aedibus hospitium resumpsi. 

Die 21. — In ejusdem comitatu Cantuariam 
redii, et apud veterem amicum Doctorem Bat- 
teley hospitium accepi. 

Dum hie morarer, utrumque beneficium in 
triennium iterum elocavi, reservato mihi annuo 
reditu £333." 

Die 13 Julii. — Preaches before the Queen at 
Whitehall, on the Fast-day. 


Die 1 8 Julii, delirus amavi. 

25. — Goes into Norfolk. 

Di^ 14 Sept. — " Londinum paulo post adven- 
tum, opuscula Bedae, &c. sunt evulgata, pro 
quibus a bibliopold 10 libras accepi. 

Die 22 Sept. — Cantuariam redii. 

Die 3 Octobris. — Historiam Reformationis 
AnglicansB a Bumeto scriptam evolvere caepi, eo 
animo, ut defectus et errores ejus notarem, ac 
demum evulgarem. Quod facere statui^ turn 
ut nimiam ejus, qu^ in damnum Ecclesise 
abusus est, fainam convellerem ; tum ut His- 
toriae nostras Ecclesiasticae errores receptos pos- 
teris indicarem ; tum ut animo meo multis ab 
eo injuriis irritato nonnihil indulgerem. 

Die 13 Octobris, observationes meas scripto 
consignare incepi. 

Die 12 Novembris, opus inceptum feliciter 
absolvi, et Johanni Conoid (qui liberos Antonii 
Aucheri Baronetti Uteris instruebat) describen- 
dum tradidi. 

Eo circitfer tempore, saepius febricitari caepi, 
saepe etiam noctes Insomnes ducere. 

Die 10 Decembris. — Lambetham perveni, et 
apud Decanum hospitatus sum. 

Die 13. — Urbem ingressus, librum Thomae 
Bennet bibliopolae juveni imprimendum dedi, 
sub ficto Antonii Harmer nomine, silentium 




1693. — Die 6 Februarii, Censura seu casti- 
gatio historiae Burneti praelo educta, public! 
juris facta est. Quamvis autem nomen alienum 
prae se ferret, omnes apud Londinum statim 
clamabant me authorem esse. Bumetus Epis- 
copus coafestim furere, debacchari, usque ad 
rabiem irasci. Amici ejus authorem condem- 
nare vel parvi pendere opus prae se ferre. Alii 
e contra authorem et opus miris in caelum lau- 
dibus extoUere, partemque secundam votis 
ardentibus optare. Bumetus se responsionem 
editurum statim in se suscepit ; idque patri 
meo forte obvius mihi renunciari praecepit. 
Mox tamen ab incepto destitit, et familiari 
meo M. Roberto Canon confiteri non erubuit, se 
de diluendis adversarii sui objectionibus pror- 
sus desperare, neque id aggressurum, quamvis 
parte secundd, quam tantopere flagitare prae 
se tulit, edit4 provocaretur. Ne nihil tamen 
faceret, me apud Reginam ausi temerarii et Re- 
formationis causae injurii accusavit; editique 
in lucem sub initium mensis sequentis epistold 
ad Episcopum Lichfeldensem prolix^ semet 
excusare, adversarium lacessere, utcunque co- 
natus est. 

20 Martii. — Patri matrique valedicens, pa- 
tronum clementissimum apud Fresingfeldam 
invisi, maximis favoris indiciis exceptus. lUe 
etenim opus a me nuper nomine ficto editum 
unpens^ commendavit ; chartas et instrumenta 


plurima (quae mihi in hoc aliisque operibus 
inservire possent) tradidit, abeuntique promi- 
sity se chartas omnes suas mihi demiim legatu- 
rum esse. 

Die 26. — Episcopum Lichfeldensem invisi. 
lUe multa mecum de censur4 Burneti nuper 
editd locutus tandem dixit. Id sane affirmare 
non dubito, te (si modo author ejus fueris) non 
injust^ fecisse. Sic enim te usus est Episcopus 
Sarum, ut idque multoque plus a te pati me- 

Saepius h^c sestate (anni 1693) a viro indus- 
trio, Johanne Strype, rogatus fueram, ut histo- 
riam ejus de Cranmero Archiepiscopo, quae 
praelo jam emittenda erat, perlegerem, et ob- 
servationibus ac castigationibus nonnullis ador- 
narem. Libro itaque mecum accepto, id sub 
hujusce (Octobris) mensis finem ac sequentis 
initium perfeci. Observationes meae postea 
typis excusae ad historiae calcem prodierunt, 
quo nomine tres guineas a Ricardo Chiswell 
bibliopole accepi." 

29 October. — Visits Archbishop Sancroft, 
then dying, who puts into his hands the papers 
relating to the history of Archbishop Laud. 

21 November. — ^Visits the Archbishop again. 
*^ Me ad lectum suum accitum multis piissimis 
admonitionibus ac benedictionibus, verbisque 
ver& amantissimis, dimisit ; utque post obitum 



suum reversus chartas reliquas (mihi utiles) 
excuterem, inventas interim auferrem, jussit. 
Noluit enim me extremis ejus seu exequiis 
adesse; ista enim a presbytero quodam, qui 
juramentum Wilhelmo ac Mariae regibus non 
preestiterat, curari voluit. Maestus admodum 
recessi, ac nocte sequenti animam sanctissimam 
Archiepiscopus caelo reddidit. Quamprimum 
justa defuncto persoluta fuissent, nepotes ejus, 
supremi testamenti executores, per Uteras in- 
terpellavi, de excutiendo patroni chartaphyla- 
cio, et accipiendis, quae mihi destinaverat, 
chartis. lUi ver6, rei totius ignorantiam prae- 
texentes, id primum concedere noluerunt; 
postea tamen, me vehementius expostulante, in 
id saltem consenserunt, ut omnes chartas atque 
instrumenta editioni historiae Laudianae neces- 
saria, atque alia quaedam pauca, acciperem. 
Quapropter, die 30 et 31 Januarii, Fresing- 
feldam profectus reliquas patroni chartas (im- 
mensam sane congeriem) pervolvi, multasque 
mihi utiles mecum abstuli. 

Mensibus Decembri et Januario, perlegendae 
historiae Laudianae, emendandae, notisque ac 
observationibus augendae, chartis ac monumen- 
tis necessariis instruendae, his ordine digerendis, 
integro denique operi ad praelum adomando, 
incubui, quantum valetudinis infelicis cura 


1694, die 3 Martii. — Historiam Laudianam 
Chiswello in maaus tradidi, ejus curd, atque 
sumptibus typis nitidis imprimendam." 

10 April. — Settles in his house at Chartham. 

25 June. — Goes to Bath. 

27 August. — Returns to London from Bath, a 
little better in health. 

In October and November, spits blood. 

" Studia interim, fracti penitus valetudine, 
parum procedere poterant. Sumptis tamen in 
manus historiis, quas ante triennium scripseram, 
de Episcopis Londinensibus et Assavensibus 
eas revisi, et additionibus praeclaris auxi. 
Nonnihil etiam in adomandd nov& atque am- 
pliore Historiae de Caelibatu Cleri meae editione 

Mense Novembri, educta jam preelo Historia* 
R. R. P. Willelmi Laud, Archiepiscopi Cant, 
et Martyris de persecutionibus suis, quam 
mense Martio superiore praelo commiseram, 
publici juris facta est. Eo nomine 88 circiter 
(quas stipulatus fueram) libras a Ricardo Chis- 
well bibliopole recepi. 

Die 9 Novembris, tricesimum eetatis annum 
complevi. Plures mihi annos Deus pro clemen- 

* Mr. Wharton lived only to publish the first volume. The 
second volume was edited in the year 1700 by his father, the 
Reverend Edmund Wharton, to whom he consigned his papers. 


tid sxxSl indulgeat, pristin^que corporis sanitate 
restitute concedat ut in sui suseque Ecclesiae 
honorem atque utilitatem vitam diutinam pro- 

Eodem die, Serennissimus Rex noster Wil- 
lelmus, ex Hollandii mare transnavigans, apud 
Margate in Insult Thaneto appulit et Gantua- 
riam adveniens in aedibus Decanilibus pemoc- 
tavit. Vesperi itaque, Ganonicos Gaatuarienses 
comitatus, regias deosculatus sum manus. 

Here the MS. diary concludes. A note at 
the end, in Dr. Birch's hand-writing, says, 
" Mr. Wharton died 5th March, 169f ." 

The details, which this narrative of Mr. Whar- 
ton's life have exhibited, of his unparalleled in- 
dustry, talents, and acquirements, prove how 
great a loss was sustained by the literary world 
in his early death. No one can know so much 
respecting him, as has been given in the fore- 
going diary, without being desirous of know- 
ing more: and on this account the following 
delineation of his character, with an account of 
his illness and death, and of the respect paid to 
his memory, proceeding from the pen of a con- 
temporary,* must be perused with interest: — 

* See the life of Mr. Whartoo, prefixed to liif StnaooB, 


" For these his performances in the cause 
of religion and learning, as he was admirably 
fitted by the excellency of his natural endow- 
ments, a quick apprehension, solid judgment, 
and most faithful memory ; so were these raised 
to a great perfection by his industry : an in- 
dustry never sufficiently to be commended, 
though in this (alas !) to be lamented, that it 
too much hastened his death and our loss. 

" Nor were his moral accomplishments in- 
ferior to his natural and acquired perfections. 
He was modest, sober, and pious ; in all things 
showing himself to be acted by a truly Christian 
and religious spirit. Of which those two in- 
stances, to name no more, may not unfitly be 
given. The one, that he never undertook any 
matter of moment, without first imploring the 
divine assistance and blessing thereupon. The 
other, that in all those journeys which his 
learned designs engaged him in, he was ever 
wont so to order his afifairs, as not once to 
omit being present at the monthly Sacrament 
wherever he came. And then, of his zeal for 
religion, and the honour of Grod, those excellent 
discourses which he has published in defence 
of the best and purest part of the Christian 
church now extant upon the face of the earth, 
in opposition to the corruptions of Popery, 
(those scandals to Christian religion, so highly 
dishonourable to God, and so injurious to the 


blessed Author of it, and an offence to all that 
truly love and fear him) will always be a con- 
stant and standing evidence. 

'' It has not been thought convenient to add 
any instances of his charity, though many might 
be given ; because this is agreeable to his own 
desire, which always was to be as private 
therein, as possibly he could. This one only 
may (it is presumed) not improperly be men- 
tioned ; viz. That by his Will, whereof he ap- 
pointed his father, the Reverend Mr. Edmund 
Wharton, the Reverend and learned Dr. Thorp, 
one of the worthy Prebendaries of Canterbury, 
and his dear friend, Mr. Charles Batteley, the 
executors, he has ordered the greatest part of 
that small estate which he left, to be disposed 
of to a religious use in the parish of Worsted 
in Norfolk, where he was bom. 

'' As to his person, he was of a middle sta- 
ture, of a brown complexion, and of a grave 
and comely countenance. His constitution was 
vigorous and healthful: in confidence of the 
strength of which, he was too little regardful of 
himself, and too intent upon his studies ; inso- 
much, that he did often deny himself the re- 
freshments of nature, because of them; and 
sometimes, in the coldest weather, would sit so 
long at them, and without a fire, as to have his 
hands and feet so chilled, as not to be able to 
feel the use of them in a considerable time. 



His too eager prosecution of these, together 
with a weakness contracted in his stomach, by 
the too violent operation of an unhappy medi- 
cine which he had taken, so far broke the ex- 
cellency of his constitution, that no art nor 
skill of the most experienced physicians could 
repair it. The summer before he died, he went 
to Bath, in hopes to have retrieved his decay- 
ing nature by the help of those excellent medi- 
cinal waters. Some benefit he found by them ; 
but at his return from thence to Canterbury, 
falling again to his studies immoderately, and 
beyond what his strength could bear, he quite 
undid all they had done. So that, after a long 
and lingering decay of nature, he was brought 
at length to the utmost extremity of weakness ; 
under which languishing for some time, at last 
in the thirty-first year of his age, on the 5 th of 
March, (that sad day, whereon that never suffi- 
ciently to be lamented princess, our most in- 
comparable queen, was interred,) about three 
o'clock in the morning, he with an humble 
patience submitted to the stroke of death, 
cheerfully resigning his departing soul into the 
most holy hands of his gracious Redeemer. 

" The loss of so extraordinary a person in 
the flower of his age, and one from whom the 
learned world had justly conceived such great 
expectations of most admirable performances 
from his indefatigable labours for the advantage 


of it, was very much lamented by learned men, 
both at home and abroad.* The clergy, in 
particular, as a testimony of that value which 
they had for him, did, in great numbers, attend 
at his funeral. Here ought by no means to be 
past by in silence that singular honour which 
was paid to him by the Right Reverend the 
Bishops ; many of whom, and among the rest, 
the most Reverend the Archbishop himself, 
and the Right Reverend Bishop of Litchfield, 
who had both of them visited him in his last 
sickness^ being present at it ; while another of 
that venerable order, the Right Reverend the 
Bishop of Rochester, performed the funeral 

" All sorts of persons were willing to show 
their respect for him in the best manner they 
were able. The Reverend the Dean and Pre- 
bendaries of Westminster not only caused tlie 
king's scholars to attend him to his grave, (an 
uncommon respect, and the highest they can 
show on such an occasion,) but did also each 

* The following notice of him appears in the Acta Eruditorum, 
Lips, anno 1696. p. 425. Idem omnium^ que sunt in Anglid, 
Bcclesiarum Cathedralium Historiam moliebatur ; verum, quod 
non mod6 Anglis, ad quorum antiquitates eruendas natus et 
factus videbatur, sed omnibus bonas literas amantibus dolendum 
est, immatura morte praeventus, quam trigcssimo aetatis anno 
subiit, specimen tantum magni illius, quod auimo conceperat, 
opens reliquit. 



for himself remit their customary dues for in- 
terment in their church, as the last and most 
proper testimony they could well give of the 
high esteem in which they held Mr. Wharton 
and his learned labours: the choir likewise 
committing his body to rest with solemn and 
devout anthems, composed by that most in- 
genious artist, Mr. Henry Purcell. 

He lies buried in the south side of the cathe- 
dral church of Westminster, towards the West 
end ; near whereunto, in the wall, is erected a 
small but decent monument of white marble, 
whereon is the following inscription : 















Obiit 3° NoN. Mart. A.D. MDCXCIV. 



Dr. Ducarel* gives the following description 
of Mr. Wharton. " He was a man of great 
natural endowments, a quick apprehension, 
solid judgment, and faithful memory. As to 
person, he was of middle stature, brown com- 
plexion, grave and comely countenance. His 
constitution was vigorous; but inmioderate ap- 
plication weakened his stomach, so that medi- 
cine could not restore his health." 

Perhaps no person ever exceeded him in the 
indefatigable ardour of his literary pursuits, 
and in the rapidity with which he brought 
his talents into action. He frequently, as ap- 
pears from the foregoing diary, completed in 
a few days, works which would have occupied 
any other person for at least as many weeks. 

Amongst his other laborious works, was the 
the account which he drew up of the MSS. in 
Lambeth library, in which the writer of his 
life says, that he has, beside giving a most 
exact catalogue, transcribed, under every book, 
all the unpublished treatises contained in it, 
and has collated with great exactness those 
which were published.-)" The Rev. H. Todd, in 

• See history of Lambeth Palace^ p. 66. 

t This catalogue of the Lambeth MSS. by Mr. Wharton was 
purchased amongst other of his MS. remains by Archbishop 
Tenison, and is now preserved in the Lambeth library. Dr. 
Ducarel states that it had been in the library of " the late 
John Lovcday, Esq. of Caversham." 


the preface to his catalogue of the LaiAbeth 
MSS. gives a more exact account of this mat- 
ter from a particular examination of the work 
itself; viz. that Mr. Wharton transcribed such 
unpublished treatises as were subservient to 
his projected publications, and collated what 
had been already printed. The catalogue pre- 
pared by Mr. Wharton, Mr. Todd adds, exhi- 
bits all the patience of minute investigation, as 
well as the merit of valuable selection. Mr. 
Wharton himself gives the following account of 
his labours in this work, in an unpublished let- 
ter, in the Lambeth library, to the Rev. Dr. 
Barker, chaplain to Archbishop Tillotson, (post 
mark January 1 — probably, says Dr. Birch, 
169^.) It appears that he had lent the work 
to Dr. Barker ; and his letter proceeds thus : 

" I desire you to use very great care 

in sending it back ; for if it should miscarry, 
the loss would be to me irreparable, since nei- 
ther myself could again, nor any other, perhaps, 
ever would, undertake such a tedious labour, 
as to read over all the unprinted, and compare 
the printed MSS. of that library, transcribing 
thence whatever was worthy of notice. Indeed, 
the labour was so vast, that I fear you will 
condemn me of misspending my time; but con- 
sidering that myself was both able and willing 
to undergo the greatest drudgery of that kind, 


162 APP£VDfX. 

and that, if I did not do it, perhaps ability, oc- 
casion and inclination to do it would never be 
joined in one person ; that a fire might destroy 
those books, or a civil war scatter them, or 
(which is all one) they might hereafter be con- 
demned to remain in their dust; I at last under- 
took the work, and finished it in that collec- 
tion now in your hands, in which I dare confi- 
dently pronounpe to be contained all passages 
of the unprinted MSS. which may be of use, 
either in controversy, philology or history, and 
all those printed treatises entire which are 
worth the preserving.* After I had done it, 
my old lord was very desirous to have a volume 
published in such a method a3 Lambecius has 
described the Ubrary at Vienna, subjoining to 
every book those treatises, passages, or ex- 
cerpts taken out of them, which may tend to 
public benefit. This my lord was eagerly bent 
upon, and would have cau3ed me to do, had 
^mself continued at Lapibeth, and I in his ser- 
vice. But, since that, my circumst^ces are so 
much altered, that all designs o( that nature are 
firustrated, and all my zeal for public service 
must be employed in teaching a few plough-job- 

* He means the portion of the MSS. then in the library, 
called Codices Lambethani and the Bulls Papales. The col- 
lection has been greatly enlarged since by Archbishop Gibson, 
the present Archbishop, and other benefactors. 



bers, who look upon what I say to concern 
them but little. Perhaps, thirty years hence, if 
life and friends continue so long, when I shall 
become old and lazy, and covetous and selfish, 
I may be removed to a station, enabling me to 
do that service to the public, which then I 
neither shall be able nor perhaps willing to do." 

It has already appeared* that Mr. Wharton 
gave the whole credit of the successful pursuit 
of his studies to his distinguished patron Arch* 
bishop Sancroft, who incited him to diligent 
perseverance in them by every species of en- 
couragement. Others have formed the same 
judgment. " We owe," says Willis, in his ac- 
count of mitred Abbies, ** Mr. Wharton and all 
that he did, to Archbishop Sancroft. This I 
ought thankfully to remember, because, without 
the perusal of the published books and MSS. of 
that very extraordinary man, whose unprece- 
dented industry will be for ever admired by all 
who impartially consider his uncommon per- 
formances beyond what was achieved by any 
one of his years, it would have been impossible 
for me to have drawn up this account of mo- 
nasteries and conventual churches." 

It has been seen from the preceding extracts 

• See p. 72. 
M 2 

164 APPilNDlX. 

from Mr. Wharton's narrative of his own life, 
that much disagreement took place between 
Dr, Cave and him, during the progress of the 
Historia Literaria. As Mr. Wharton's account 
of this matter has been given, it seems but 
equitable to suffer Dr. Cave to tell his own 
story, by inserting the following letter addressed 
by him some years afterwards to Archbishop 
Tenison, complaining bitterly of Mr. Wharton's 
behaviour, in unduly arrogating to himself the 
credit of having composed a great part of that 
work. The real state of the case seems to 
have been, that Mr. Wharton, a young man of 
uncommon natural powers, indefatigable indus- 
try, and ardent spirit of research, availed him- 
self, with great rapidity, of the materials and 
references, which the extensive reading of Dr. 
Cave supplied for carrying on the Historia Li- 
teraria: and, feeling conscious of his powers 
and of the assistance which he really contri- 
buted, he forgot that the foundation of the whole 
was furnished by the erudition of Dr. Cave, and 
arrogated more to himself than he really ought. 
Dr. Cave too seems to have irritated the young 
scholar by some moroseness and harshness of 
temper, by undervaluing the assistance which 
he afforded, and by showing towards him some 
feelings of jealousy to which a person of his 
high eminence ought to have been superior. 



D7\ Caves Letter* to Archbishop Tenison, 
respecting H. Wharton. 

Dated October, 1697. 

My Lord, 

I should not presume to give your 
Grace this trouble, but that lately I met with 
an accident that gave me some disturbance. 
At Mr. Geary's I chanced to see Mr. Wharton's 
book of the Historia Literaria, wherein I found 
several notes blotted out, and two or three 
added since I saw the book last, which was 
about a year before he died. The notes that 
are added are highly injurious to me, and afford 
one of the most unaccountable instances of un- 
fair and disingenuous dealing that perhaps ever 
passed amongst men of letters. I hope there- 
fore that your Grace will not be offended, if, in 
as few words as the thing is capable of, I set 
things in their true light. 

P. 282. there is this note: — Ab hoc loco 
onmia nigro plumbo non notata ejusdem sunt 
autoris (sc. H. W.) cujus ilia quae hucusque 
notata sunt : et vicissim quae line4 decussate 
notantur, junctA utriusque nostrum operA sunt 
conscripta. This note, if taken in its latitude, 

* See Lambeth MSS. r. 930, 14. 

M 3 


as it is obvious to understand it> is so extra- 
vagantly untrue, that he might with equal jus- 
tice challenge the entire work, as m effect he 
has done the greatest part. Mr. Wharton was 
with me but seven or eight months (and those 
winter months) after I resumed what I had long 
thrown aside; a time much too short for a 
book of that bigness, if he had claimed the 
whole. The four first saecula I had drawn up, 
and still have by me under the hand of my then 
amanuensis, some years before Mr. Wharton 
ever saw an University; to which I added 
several things afterwards, mostly extracted out 
of the English lives, which I had published 
long before I ever heard of Mr. Wharton's 
name ; nay, there are some passages, and those 
pretty large, hooked by Mr. Wharton within 
the compass of his note, which I particularly 
remember I drew up several months after he 
left me, having then got some books which I 
had not before. And for all the rest (more 
than in the sense wherein things are acknow- 
ledged in this paper) I am as sure they were of 
my own doing as I am of my right hand. 

" The whole foundation of any pretence at 
all was no more than this. Mr. Wharton lived 
with me as an amanuensis; at that time I 
resumed my design of the Historia Literaria. 
Besides his writing as I dictated to him, I em- 


ployed him to transcribe several things, parti- 
cular the titles of the Fathers' works, as they 
stood before their several editions, adding my- 
self what short notes I thought fit to any of 
them ; and sometimes, though not very often, 
where the opinion of an author concerning an 
ecclesiastical writer was large, I set him to 
draw it into a few lines, but still under my own 
discretion and alteration. This, for instance, 
was the case of Origen's works, and of what he 
pleasantly calls, p. 81, Dissertationem de Ori- 
genis operibus proprio marte compositam, which 
was no more than thu6 : — I set him to collect 
the writings of Origen, mentioned in Huetius's 
Origeniana (adding what I thought fit to them) 
as also the heads of his dogmata, as they stand 
in the several sections of Huet's book; and 
which, accordingly, p. 82. 1 have acknowledged 
to have been extracted thence. In Cyprian, I 
set him to take out his works as they are placed 
according to order of time in the Oxford edi- 
tion, and to reduce the titles of the last Paris 
edition to them. In St. Augustin, I sent him 
to look over three, or four volumes (which 
were all could then be had) of the new Bene- 
dictine edition, and observe what alterations 
they had made from former editions ; and they 
are mentioned up and down in the account 
of St. Augustin'a works. In St. Chrysostom, 


168 APPENDrZ. 

I employed him to transcribe the titles of his 
works as they stand before the several vo- 
lumes of Sir H. Savil, and to reduce those 
of Fr. Ducaeus to them, which accordingly are 
set down column-wise, p. 255, &c. In reading 
to me out of Bishop Usher's Bibliotheca Theo- 
logica concerning Chrysostom (and the Hke 
concerning some others), I ordered him to copy 
out several passages, which you have in the 
bishop's own words from p. 270, and so on . 
In Theodorit, I directed him to collect his 
works, as they are reckoned up in Gamerius's 
Dissertatio de VitA et Libris Theodoriti, which 
I refer to, p. 319. Thus I sent him to your 
Grace's library at St. Martin's, to collate the 
new edition of Zonaras with the former, and he 
brought me an account of what was in the new; 
as also to the library at Lambeth, to run over 
three or four volumes of Lambecius. His ex- 
tracts I have still by me, some whereof, but in 
my own words and way, I made use of. 

These are the chief, and most (if not all) that 
he did ; and this he did as my amanuensis, as 
maintained, employed, and directed by me; and 
are no more than what (if I had kept no ama- 
nuensis) I could easily have had done by the 
hand of any friend. And shall this be thought 
sufficient to ground a claim to any part of an 
author's book ? It would be a woeful case with 


writers who are forced to make use of ama- 
nuenses^ if the transcribing a few passages for 
the author's use, or the making a short abridge- 
ment of a passage or two, shall be foundation 
enough to set up a title for co-partnership in 
the work. I hope* after so many volumes of 
church antiquity published by me long before 
I saw Mr. Wharton's face, the world will not 
have so mean an opinion of me^ as to think 
either that I needed to be beholden to a young 
man of twenty-one years, and who, by his own 
confession, had never looked into the Fathers till 
he came to me ; or that I was so lazy as to sit 
still, and employ another to do my work; a 
thing as far from my temper, as light from 
darkness, and from which all that know my 
course of studying will sufficiently acquit me. 
I might add, that there is so plain a difference 
between his style and mine, (whether for good 
or bad it matters not,) that it would not b^ 
hard for any that would attend to it, to make a 
near guess which is which ; though indeed in 
the progress of the work, he was ever and anon 
offering to thrust in his own words and phrases, 
so that I. was forced very often to reprimand 
him, and sometimes positively to overrule him ; 
whereof I then, once and again, complained to 
several friends, some whereof are still alive to 
justify it. This I then thought was only the 


eStct of the heat and forwardness of his tem^ 
per, and perhaps it was no more; though, 
comparing it with what has happened since, it 
Iboked oddly. What Mr. Wharton did towards 
the real benefit of the work, proprio marte as 
he speaks, viz. transcribing Greek fragments 
ont of MSS., translating them, and the like, is 
readily acknowledged in their places up and 
down the book, and more particularly in the 
prolegomena, sect. iii. p. 7. in expressions more 
comprehensive than what he did, really de- 
served. My Lord, I am ashamed to mention 
these things, but that necessity enforces it. 

P. 743. ad ann. 1280, there is this note. 
Omnia dehinc ad finem usque a me scripta 
sunt, a Cavo postmodum concinnata. I believe 
nobody that reads this note but would make 
this construction : that, from thence to the end 
of that saeculum, and the beginning of the Ap- 
pendix, was written by Mr. Wharton, and after- 
wards only licked over and revised by me. 
This obliges me to let your Grace into the 
knowledge how Mr. Wharton came to be con- 
cerned in the Appendix. When I was come to 
the year 1280, I fell sick at Windsor, and not 
knowing whether I might recover, and being 
unwilling that so much pains as I had taken 
should be wholly lost, I delivered my papers to 
Mr. Wharton, and what materials I had pre- 



pared for the two following saecula> and desired 
him out of them and the chartophylax to draw 
up some kind of continuation agreeable to the 
rest, adding to it what he could meet with in 
my books. This I did as a pro tempore provi- 
sion in case of the worst, designing, if I reco** 
vered, to finish it afterwards. Accordingly, he 
parted from me and. went to my house at 
Islington, where he was maintained for three 
months at my charge, and his salary duly paid 
him. At my return he showed me what he 
had done, without taking any further notice* 
Six months after, when the book was in the 
press, and about twenty sheets printed, he 
came to me, and in a peremptory manner de* 
manded that the latter part of the book might 
be published in his name. I was much sur^ 
prised, and represented to him the unreason- 
ableness of such a demand, that what was done,, 
was done in my service, by my direction, at 
my cost, and upon my bottom, smd that I had 
thoughts of taking it in pieces, and doing it 
over again, with some other considerations 
which I have now forgot. However, because I 
did not much stand upon it, so the book might 
be useful to the ends designed, who had the 
credit of this or that part of it, and he being a 
young man, if it might be a means to let him 
into public notice, (upon which account he 


seemed to insist upon it,) I was content he 
should have the two last saecula, by way of Ap- 
pendix. Whereto he afterwards added several 
things, making use of the scattered notes I had 
prepared, and what was before in the charto- 
phylax, without taking any notice whose they 
were, nor did I much expect it, or desire he 
should. And because there were two or three 
sheets from ann. 1280, to the end of that 
sseculum, which he said he had done, I cut out 
those leaves, and for any thing I know they 
may be among his papers at this hour, and did 
it entirely over again, wherein there was not 
one word of Mr. Wharton's made use of, more 
than what will necessarily fall in, where two 
persons make use of the same books in prosecu- 
tion of the same design. I further told him 
(for now I began to perceive his humour and 
what he aimed at) that, to the end there might 
be no farther dispute about this matter here- 
after, if there was any other part of the book 
to which he could make out a claim, I would 
strike it out, and do it over again ; and that I 
all along designed to own in the preface what 
real help he had contributed, showing him that 
part of the prolegomena, wherein I had done it. 
With which he was satisfied, and never after 
spake of it to me, or, that I know of, to any one 


else, though he lived more than seven years 

Thus, my Lord, I have truly and sincerely 
laid the vsrhole case before you, and I thought 
myself obliged to do it, in order to the doing 
myself right. For I should have been unpar- 
donably wanting to myself, had I suffered my- 
self to be undeservedly transmitted to posterity, 
as one that had published another man s labours 
under my own name ; a thing from which I was 
ever most averse, and have commonly erred on 
the other hand. I know not into whose hands' 
Mr. Wharton's book may hereafter fall, or what 
use may be made of those notes ; if therefore 
your Grace shall think fit to let those two. or 
three notes stand as they are, I humbly beg the 
favour and the justice that this paper may be 
fastened into Mr. Wharton's book, that so im- 
partial persons may be rightly informed in the 
state of things. I want not an opportunity at 
this time of publicly doing myself right. But, 
since the notes are kept private under your 
Grace's custody, I did not think fit to make my 
defence any more public than by this address 
to your Grace. If, when I am dead, any use 
shall be made of these notes to my prejudice, I 
hope this paper will in some measure plead for 
me, or that some friend will stand up to do me 


right ; however, that there (is) a time coming 
when Grod will bring forth my righteousness as 
the light, and my integrity as noon-day. Mr. 
Wharton was one, for whose worth I ever had 
a just value, and, if I have exceeded in any 
thing, it has been upon all occasions in over- 
high commendations of him. But he was sub- 
ject to one weakness (which all his friends that 
intimately knew him could not but take notice 
ofc) viz. a vanity of magnifying his own per- 
formances, and an overweenmg conceit of him- 
self, joined with an insatiable thirst after fame, 
which it is like his reduced age might have 
corrected, as I once told one of your Grace's 
predecessors, who was his great patron, when 
he was pleased to ask my opinion of him. 
With pardon humbly begged for the trouble of 

this tedious account, 

I am, 

My Lord, 

Your Grace's in all dutiful observance, 

Wm. Cave. 

The copy of the Historia Literaria, to which 
Dr. Cave here alludes, which formerly be- 
longed to Mr. Wharton, and contains his 
manuscript notes, is still preserved in the 
MS. library at Lambeth. 



APPENDIX, No. 11. 








Ad Tivam repnesentatiir non tantum quomodo Calvinis- 

tarum Dogmata ex seipsis ansam praebent scelera et 

impietates quasvis patrandi, sed insuper quomodo 

eadem maxim^ impediunt quo minus pec- 

cator ad vitae emendationem et resipis- 

centiam reduci porait. 

Quid DobU prodest Christas ejiisve Spiritas, Terb^rnqoe pnBdicatnniy i 

Deo contrarium si sit predestinatum ? 
Christus si sao prodesse debet Spirita, rerb^qae nos refonnarey neceue 

est Deam contrariam non pnedestinare. 





Christiane Lector! 

Dialogus iste quern in publicum nunc 
emittimus, nauseam fort^ movebit, mirusve et 
insolens videri poterit Dogmata hujusmodi 
audire miniis assuefactis. Enimvero k Fure 
quae defenduntur et sustinentur partes, non ita 
quenquam interpretari fas est, ac si ex Sacris 
Scripturis perversi ade6 promi quid posse arbi- 
traremur: Absit! Quicquid tandem profertur, 
consonum est, im6 ipsissima verba sunt eorum 
Doctorum, qui apud Calvinistas pro praestan- 
tissimis, et ipMo^ordroi^ habentur: Quae quidem 
placita abominanda asseveramus ; talia nempe 
quae Evangelicam pietatem funditus evertunt, 
amplissim^mque viam omnis generis flagitiis et 
sceleribus stemunt, pandunt et aperiunt. 

Multi mini!ls perspicacis ingenii homines non 
advertunt qu^m pemiciosa et absurda sit de 
praecis^ et rigidA Praedestinatione opinio; quod 
ipsum in caussA fuit cur Dialogus hie prodeat 
in lucem, ut exinde cuique luce meridian^ cla- 




riiis constet, aequfe ac Stygem infemalem fu- 
gienda esse tarn ipse Dogmata^ qu^m Doc tores 
qui ea profitentur, tenent^ evulgant. Si In- 
scriptio primS. fronte videatur peregrina et du- 
riuscula, ne ea propter offendare, Lector, ex- 
ploratum quippe tenetur, complures Dogmatum 
istorum libidine abreptos, non furtis duntaxat, 
praedis et rapinis, sed latrociniis insuper, alifs- 
que detestandis facinoribus se mancipAsse, ade6 
ut, si votis res conficeretur, optaremus ne expe- 
rientia jam nunc pli!ls satis, pr6 dolor! exemplo- 
rum suppeditisset : Quibus consideratis, ap- 
paret titulum argumento, de quo hie agitur, 
optim^ quadrare. 






RuARDUs AcroniuS; dum viveret, Concionatoi Schie- 


Theodonis Beza, Doctor Genevensis. 
Georgius Bucanus^ Bematum Lausannas Professor. 
Martinus Bucerus^ Professor Cantabrigiensis. 
Joannes Bogardus, dum viveret, Concionator Harle- 

loannes Becius, Concionator Dordrectanus. 
Bern. Buschop, Concionator Ultrajectinus. 


Joa. Calvinus, Doctor Genevensis. 

Colloquium Hagiense, in quo Contra-Remonstrantium 

CoUocutores fuere sex sequentes: 
Pet. Plancius, Concionator Amsterodamensis. 
loa. Bogardus, Concionator Harlemensis. 
Libertus Fraxinus, Concionator Brilensis. 




Ruardus Acronius, Concionator Schiedamensis. 
Festus Homnius, Concionator Leydensis. 
loa. Becius, Concionator Dordrectanus. 


Dunganus, Concionator Arnehemiensis. 

Reyneirus Donteclock, diim viveret, Concionator Delpli. 

et Brilensis. 
Dordracena Synodus. 
Damman, Concionator Zutphanensis. 

F & H. 

Libertus Fraxinus, dum viveret, Concionator Brilensis. 
Festus Homnius, Concionator Leydensis. 


Cornelius Geselius, dum viveret» Concionator Edanius. 
D. Franc. Gomarus, Professor Groningensis. 


Marloratus, Concionator Rothomagensis. 


P. Martyr, Professor Oxoniensis et Tigurinus. 


Nicasius de Schure, Concionator Gandavensis. 
Pet. Nieuwenrode, Concionator Roterodamensis. 


G. Perkins, Doctor AngHcanus. 
Amandus Polanus, Professor Basileensis. 
Paraeus, Professor Heidelburgensis. 


Joannes Piscator, Nassoviae in Comitatu Herboruae Pro- 


Rennecherus, Heb. Ling, apud Leidenses Professor et 


H. StumiiuSy Professor Leidensis. 

Adrianus Smoutius, antehac Concionator Rhenanus. 

Rippertus Sixti, Concionator Homanus. 


lac. Triglandius, Concionator Amsterodamensis. 
Anth. Thysius, Professor Harderwicensis. 
Dan. Tossanus, Professor et Concionator Heidelbiir- 

loh. Urbanus, Concionator Hattemensis. 


Zuinglius, Tiguri in Helvetia Professor et Concionator. 
H.Zanchius, Ncopoli Nemetum Professor. 

N 3 









Cone. BoNABf vesperam, Adolescens; quo- 
inodo vitae tuae habent rationes? 

Fur. Prout Deo Omnipotenti, . qui cuncta 
secundum arbitrium voluntatis suae operatur, ab 
aetemo de me placuit decernere, et in tempore 

Cone. Rect6 ais ; sed hoc aegr6 me habet, te 
ver6 omnium aegerrim^, qu6d impactus es com- 
pedibus, nee aliud nisi mors detestabilis tibi 

Fur. San^ est certissimum; ignoro tamen an 
deceat vel me vel te tantopere tristari, cum nee 
mihi nee tibi cert6 constet, utrum ab aetemo, 
per immutabile aliquod Decretum, k Deo prae- 
destinatus sum ad vitam aeternam, an yer6 ad 
poenas infemales. 




Cone. E^ de re paul6 post : interea quia stat 
sententia in crastinum ut pendeas, ego ver6 ac- 
cersitus hue venio ut tibi praestd sim, an cum 
latrone in Paradisum transferri queas, fae ut 
sciam quaenam peccata perpetraveris, qu6 tant6 
commodii!ls meam ad te exhortationem, ex usu 
tuo, et ad animae tuae salutem instituam. 

Fur. Lubentissim^ ; dummodo tu vacuas et 
audientes ad omnia ea aures accommodaveris. 

Parentes mei ab ineunte aetate cur^runt me 
enutriri Uteris^ tandem in Academiam mittere 
animum inducentes. Quid factum? Leidensis 
Academia haeresium plena erat; Franequerae 
ver6 studiosi Baccho litabant, digladiabantur^ 
et ferocissimorum instar militum ad duella con- 
tinu6 et concertationes mutuas sese provoca- 
bant, Nostrae tamen Ecclesiae Praeco erat 
autor, ut Franequeram mitterer; extra dubium 
quippe expedit potiils Bacchi sacrificulum et 
Martis alumnum evadere, qu^m haereticum, 
ci\m hie animam perdat et trucidet, ille dun- 
taxat corpus. Post haec, Benedicite acceptA, 
adibam Franequeram, ubi cervisia ade6 erat 
laudabilis, vinum pretii tam vilis, sodalitium- 
que ita amoenum, ut omnes nununos con- 
vivando insumerem. Simul ac parentes mei 
resciverant Musas meas in Bacchi voluminibus 
versandis et evolvendis tantopere occupari, do- 
mum me revocantes^ in Galliam ablegabant» ubi 


parcfe vivitur, et vitio ebrietas vertitur : VerAm 
Parisiorum adibam Lutetiam, qu6 omnium na- 
tionum est confluxus : Ibi generosissima quse- 
que vina nihili ferh vendunt, strenu^ potando 
rem meam credebam facere, perpetu6 Bacchi 
thyrso egregi^ delinitus, k puellarum gremiis 
nunquam avulsus. Tandem ita enormiter vive- 
bam ut parentes id audientes Cacubii literas 
Genevam dirigerent, mihlque ut eo loci viverem, 
mandarent. Enimvero Ecclesiastes noster pa- 
rentibus imposuerat, qu6d urbs esset sancta, in 
qu^ ebrietati, comessationibus, choreis ducen- 
dis, scortationi, nee ullis mundanis illecebris 
locus concederetur. Inde credula parentum 
simplicitas penitus sibi persuasum habebat, me 
istic non seci!ls ac Samuelem quempiam cum 
Eli in Domini templo assidu^ commoraturum. 
Absque exceptione Genevam abeundum erat, 
sumptibus alioquin cariturus. E6 venienti mihi 
hospitium obtingebat hospitem habens cum 
venere form^ certantem^ et ancillam satis 
facilem, sed tantam prae se ambas pietatem 
ferentes, ac si ipsa fuissent sanctimonia. Tem^ 
plum quotidie adeuntes, nescio quoties in anno 
Sacro-sanctam Coenam participantes. In tan- 
tam pietatem nequam oculos meos primitus non 
sustinebam intendere. — Sed utl tempus omnia 
alit, ita movk intercedente tandem optatis meis 
cuncta respondebant. Ante omnia» ut apud 

186 APP£NDIX. 

Terbi Prascones et Consistorium favorem mihi 
acquirerem, nullam omnino Concionem neglige* 
bam, subinde cum grandi Bibliorum volumine 
templum ingrediens, locum non nisi infra sug- 
gestum capessebam, singula Scriptures dicta k 
Concionatore allegata inquirebam, unde sum- 
mam mihi existimationem conciliabam. Inte- 
rea Satrapam referre satagens, lateri gladium 
alligabam, servulo sequente, et concubine vices 
pariter obeunte incedebam, qui caligis exutis 
puellam se potiCls qu^m masculum probabat. 
Quandoque tali stipatus sodalitio cymb4 lacum 
transfretabam, et cum Glyceric in montem^ in 
vaUem viridem, in gramina expatiabar; non 
vinum, non chartae lusoriae, non alea, av^sque 
suaviter modulantes cum variorum animalium 
amcenitate taedium prohibente deerant. Quo- 
tidie fidium sonus egregi^ cerebrum mulcebat ; 
sed ne in plated animadverteretur, pectine fidi- 
bus inserto sonus reddebatur submissus : diebus 
serenisy lychno accenso, fenestris vestes prae- 
tendebamus, calceis exutis in pavimento aulaeis 
cortinisque strato choreas ducebamus. 

Cone. At verb si innotuisset quid de te actum 
esset? nam in sanct^ urbe Genevi piaculare 
facinus est saltare« 

Fur. Utinam h)c non severius quid in me 
statueretur. Semel ciim res pal^m fieret, mihi 
me6que sodalitio imponebatur nos sistere Epis- 
copo. Praeter aquam et panem arbitrabar nihil 

FUR pr.*:destinatus. 187 

nobis suppeditatum iri ; verum reliqui sens{is 
nostri fratres et sororculae splendid^ incedentes 
indies nos visebant; genialiter edebatur convi- 
vebaturque; in aedium contiguarum superiori 
contignatione saltabatur ad trabium usque 
commotionem, idque quamdiu detineremur, 
Quamprimum poenitentiae esset terminus, in 
Consistorium deducebamur, ubi facti turpitudi'- 
nem multis verbis nobis exprobrabant: post iUa 
convoluti pronique super genua et cubitos ante 
suggestum in plenam Concionem cogebamur 
irrepere, apud Deum Ecclesiimque scandali 
dati veniam rogare. Sed non ampliil^s habetur 
dedecus, exemplorum multitudine probrum pri- 
dem absorbente, dum in majorem illorum par- 
tem qui primipili urbis sunt, im6 in ipsos Con- 
sules et Concionatores pariter animadversum 
fuit. Attamen tempestiv^ prsevidens apud Ba- 
tavos rumorem eum, si percrebresceret, pes- 
simi nominis futurum, arbitrabar mek interesse, 
ut famae consulerem, aitiusque ad animum, quid 
de me fieret, revocarem, antequam in Batavi^ 
emanaret. Proinde in Consistorio comparens 
im6 de pectore trahere simulabam 

Cordicremos gemitus et singultantia verba, 

et tantiim rheuma non eructabam. Advenam me 
aiebam, quern Patrum decreta et populi genius 


lateret ; seductum me exclamabam ; fando me 
ipsum exquirebam, quomodo in tantum scelus 
praecipitatus essem, cujus mores sancti ade6 
et illibati exstitissent ; quomodo dexterrim^ 
tam perversum consortium evitandum foret, 
percontabar. In templo tanquam canis ulula- 
bam, in modum anguillae manus inflectebam; 
verbOy ita personam meam sustinebam, ut nemo 
non mei commiseratione tangeretur, m6que 
idoneum vas judicaret. Post haec Concionato- 
rem seorsim adibam, vicem ipsi meam luctuo- 
sam enarrans, de rebus meis penitus conclama- 
tum querebar, prae me ferens qu6d jamjam 
abiturus essem, ovis instar palantis errabundus, 
qui amplijls in parentum meorum conspectum 
prodire non auderem. Concionator haec au- 
diens, Davidis, Solomonis, Mariae Magdalenae 
aliorumque exemplo me solabatur, qui omnes 
enormiter pecc&rant. Breviter Concionatorem 
conquisitis dictis ita permovebam, ut scriptis 
ad patrem meum literis, ingenium meum, dili- 
gentiam et modestiam mirum in modum com- 
mendaret, parent^sque exhortaretur, ne dubi- 
tarent quin sumptuum suorum desideratissimos 
fructus laeti ex me percepturi essent. Literas 
istas illico reddendas diligentissim^ curabam, 
additis aliis k me scriptis, quibus de Praedesti- 
natione et Libero Arbitrio subtilissim^ disputa* 
bam, voculis insuper Hebraeis, Graecis, Latinis 



et Glallicis eas interpolabam, urbis sanctimo- 
niam extoUebam, Pastorum eruditionem deprae- 
dicabam, parentibus meis gratias agens^ qu6d 
me in salutis semitas reduxissent. Nuntius iste 
parentes meos tanto recreabat gaudio, ut con- 
festim portio mea quadraginta coronatis excres- 
ceret: Attamen omnia frustrd. Equus semel 
carceres transilierat, inde pudor omnis perierat, 
ita ut indies deterior evaderem, tdmque enor- 
miter exorbitarem, ut- k parentibus domum 
redire juberer, 

Veri!im Amstelrodamense metuens ergastu- 
lum, tarn diu exspectabam donee fides mihi 
haberetur; postea me proripiens effugiebam, 
Romam petebam, ex pallio meo togam confi- 
ciens, ad modum eorum qui Religionis caussi 
iter faciunt^ pileo ver6 cannas adfigebam, eonmi 
instar qui ad Sancti Jacobi reliquias proficis- 
cuntur, qu6 tant6 tutiiis diversoria omnia et 
Monasteria ingrederer, egreder^rque. At vita 
haec nimis sordescebat; denuo Attalic^ ince- 
dere stabat sententia ; si vel in malum abeun- 
dum foret. Tum demum in campis et sylvis 
praedonem agebam, in oppidis crumenicidam, et 
furem nocturnum qui aedes spoliat. Eo vitae 
genere per Germaniam penetrabam in HoUan- 
diam, ubi villicorum et civium bona et fortunas, 
qu^ vi quc\ dolo, multfsque irruptionibus do- 
mesticis diripui. In eum modum sexennium 


scortcMTum et nebulonum consortio Isetus in* 
sumpsiy et jam apparet ac si omnis inde per- 
oepta voluptas tristi semi*hor& finienda siet. 

Ccnc. Percipio te grandem admodum pecca-. 
tor^n esse, qui omnibus tuis sceleribus suspen- 
dium dupl6y im6 ignem infemalem sis promeri- 
tus; inde miror qu6d cum risu ista profers, 
baud aliter ac si nullum gravamen animee tuae 
metuendum esset. Dicas ergo mihi, qu6nam 
yit& excessums te migraturum cogitas? 

Fur. In coelum eequ^ ac tu, qui me non es 
mult6 melior. 

Cone. An ergo sequ^ bonum et honestum te 
arbitrare atque me ? 

Fur. Axbitror, et quidem ex propria tui 
confessione ; *nam optima tua opera in seipsis 
putida simt et putrida, foetida, deformia, detes* 
tanda, im6 merae abominationes et peccata, et^ 
tanquam immunda foemina, semper putredine 
et maculis infecta> ita ut nullis operibus apud 
Deum acceptus sis et aestimatus, quandoquidem 
illat aliud nihil nisi poenas aetemas merentur, 
etj contra omnia omnino praecepta Dei gravis- 
simfe pecc&sti, iieque uUum eorum observststi, 

* Calv. Comment, in Esa. c. 64. v. 7. Instit. 1. 3. c. 12. 
dist. 9. 13, 14. Ibid. c. 14. dist. 9. 
t Confessio Belg. Art. 24. 
X Catech. H^idelb. quxst. 60. 


fm6y jam nunc ad omnem malitiam, ad 
proximique odium pronus es. 

In precationibus tuis ad calcem Psalterii 
impressis, confiteris, dignissime vir ! dignitatem 
tuam non tantflm csecam esse in intellectu, sed 
ineptam quoque ad ullum bonum ; qu6d k Deo 
defecerit ; qu6d propria desideria secuta fuerit; 
qu6d quotidie gravissim^ peccet, quandoquidem 
dignitas tua per originale peccatum ade6 impura 
est, ut per id varia prava desideria adversiis 
Deum et proximum pugnantia in te habitent, 
ita ut Dei mandata saepe absque intermissione 
transgrediaris. Breviter miser peccator es, con- 
ceptus et natus in omni pravitate et corruptione, 
ad prava omnia praeceps, ad bonum quodvis 
inidoneus, ita ut indesinenter peccatrice vit^ 
tu^ iram Dei adversiis te excitaveris, et secun* 
diim rectum judicium ejus stemam, (proh 
dolor!) in te condemnationem derivas. Ek de 
re conscientia tua te accusat, *im6 peccata tua 
adversi!ls te testantur, ita ut corruptionis tuae 
sensu convictus saepe ingemiscas, et k corpore 
tuo liberari desideres. Verborum utar com- 
pendio, k teneris inde frugi pariim fuisti ; namf 
in nativitate tu^ filius irae^ et haeres vindictas 
divinae exstitisti, communionem babebas cum 

* Confes. Belg. Art. 7. 

t Guil. Teeling. Dialog, de Statu Horn. Christ, pag. 8, 9. 


damnatis Diabolis, dum in matris tuse utera 
esses ; plenus eras omnis naturalis veneni, unde 
omnia prava opera emanant ; exteriils nihil nisi 
peccare poteras, c{lm infantilis quoque esses, si 
mod6 occasio tibi suppeteret. Nam natura tua 
ad peccandum ita prona erat, quemadmodum 
serpens naturaliter ad ictum fertur : et quem- 
admodum vipera aut serpens ab bomine ha- 
bentur odio non propter malitiam quam perpe- 
tr&runty sed propter venenum quod in se con- 
tinent ; pariter et tu k Deo haberis odio propter 
naturale venenum quod tecum conceptmn et 
natum erat. Ista omnia et ejus generis mult6 
plura ipse de te enuntias, et ista manu tu^ 
subscripsisti : Im6 ut haereticos, Pelagianos, 
Cornehertistas et Perfectistas eos accusas, qui 
haec in hunc modum cum vestris profiteri 
abnuunt. Et quid tibi videtur? Si Shimei 
quispiam destinat4 operi maledictis et probris 
te incesseret ac convitiaretur, deteridsne quid 
in te posset evomere ? 

CoTic. Honoris caussii et magnificentiae su- 
perabundantis Dei gratiae, lubens ex animo 
confiteor omnium istorum reum me esse : Im6 
Deus vult ut ipsius fideles et electi tanti pecca- 
tores sint, ne seipsos efFerant, sed* humiles 
sint ; quae humilitas in eo consistit, ut vacemus 
omni bono et justitic\. 

* Calv. Inst. 1. 3. chap. 14. distinct. 9. 


Fur. Pridem et hoc ego optimfe exploratum 
habebam^ Concionator^ proinde arbitrabar si id 
in rei veritate dicendum mihi foret, qu6d peni- 
tus nihil boni faciendum mihi esset ; nam qu6 
longiiis k bono omni abessem, e6 veriiis faterer, 
qu6d omni bono et justitii vacuus essem. 

Cone. Non ; hoc ita accipi nolim : Deus vult 
nos peccatores esse, ne bonis nostris inniteremur 
operibus, sed ipsius duntaxat gratis, ne quaere- 
remus per opera nostra justificari. 

Fur. Idem adhuc sentimus, et quia optimfe 
noram qu^m mortiferum peccatum esset bonis 
operibus suis inniti, et per ea justificationem 
quaerere ; im6 quantis technis Diabolus insidie- 
tur homini, qu6 hseresibus eum irretiat, omnia 
bona opera evitavi, soli Dei innitens gratiae. 

Cone. Omnia invertens adversus et praepos- 
terus vis currum conscendere : Doctrinam nos- 
tram haud aliter interpretaris ac si vitae tuaei 
perversae caussa exstitisset. Absit ! Deus hoc 
intendit, ne homines quaerant operibus justifi- 
cari, veriim fide. 

Fur. Qua fide? 

Cone. Prout Catechesis nostra Quaest. 60 
docet; Credo soliim- in Jesum Christum, qu4 
fide coram Deo justificor. De istis omnibus 
conscientia mea me accusat, qu6d contra omnia 
praecepta Dei gravissim^ peccavi, qu6d nullum 
eorum observavi, et jam nunc ad malitiam om- 

VOL. II. o 


nem propendeo. Deus tamen absque uUis 
meis meritis^ meri ex grat^, perfectam Cbristi 
satisfactionem, justitiam et sanctitatem mihi 
donat et imputat, sequ^ ac si nullum peccatum 
commisissem aut habuissem ; im6 ac si obedi- 
entiam praestitissem quam Christus pro me 
prsestitit, quatenus tale beneficium credenti 
corde mihi applico. 

Fur. Reverb, CoDcionator, pura ac illibata 
baec fides et mea semper fuit, ut magis magis- 
que cognoscam Reformatae Ecclesi® doctrinae 
perpetuae me inhaesisse ; prout perpetuae quo- 
que Deum meis fatigavi precibus, quae in fide 
absque uUis bonis operibus persisterem. Pro- 
inde et hoc mihi semper fixum fuit animo, 
crebroque sermone usurpavi; *Praecipuam 
Christianorum artem esse et sapientiam, legem 
nullam n6sse, nulla bona opera, ne vel hilum 
operantis justificationis scire: fNam Chris ti- 
anus nuUis operibus vel lege indiget, postquam 
per fidem ab omnibus legibus liber est. [fFides 
sola nobis ad justificationem est necessaria, k 
rebus cunctis caeteris sumus liberie nulla prae- 
terea vel mandata vel interdicta ; §bona opera 
neminem bonum reddunt, nee prava pravum. 

* Luth. in prsefat. Epist. ad Gal. 

f Id. in lib. de Libert. Christ. 

X Id. in £p. ad GaL cap. 2. 

§ Id. de Lib. Christian^. 


*Et quemadmodum infidelibus nullum bonum 
opus ad salutem et justitiam prodest ; ita ex 
adverse nullum pravum opus quemquam pra- 
vum reddit vel damnat, sed sola incredulitas. 
fNam ubi fides est, ibi nullum peccatum obesse 

Cone. Quid turn ? Itane bona opera insuper 
babes ? Docemus quidem fidem;}: in Christum 
justificare ; sed nos quoque teneri Dei praecepta 
observare, prout scriptum est ; Si vitam aeter- 
nam vis ingredi, serva mandata. 

Fur. Pardilis frater; ^am tune Christum 
abneg^ti et fidem destinxisti, divinis mandatis 
vel legibus tribuens, quod soli Deo debetur. 
Proinde pariim abest quin inducar ut credam 
te aliquid de haeresibus participare, dum bonis 
operibus boni quid tribuis in nostr^ coram Deo 
justificatione. ||Confirmo tibi, Concionator, 
quia via angusta est, oportet te submittas, si 
transire vis. Nam operibus qui sunt onusti, 
quemadmodum viatores ad Sancti Jacobi reli- 
quias cannis videmus circundatos, ^illuc trans- 
ire non poterunt Dum ergo accedis ingen- 

* Luth. de Lib. Cfarlstiand. 

t Id. in Serm. Ita Deus dilexit miindum. 

t£p. ad Gal. c. 2. 

( Id. in resp. ad quaest. pneced. 

II Id. in Serm. Ita Deus, &c. 

% Paul6 inferiCis. 



tibus sacci& bonorum opefum plenus, illos aut 
deponere cogens, aut transire non poteris. 
- Cone. Fateor bona opera in justificatione 
nostr^ sive salute non ^pectari tanquam caus-^ 
sam impulsivam; interim caveudum nobis k 

Furl Omnino Domine ; eaveamus *uobia k 
peccatis, sed mult6 magis k lege et bonis ope- 
ribus, tantillm attendentes ad divina promissa et 
finem. Bone Deus ! quid miselli nos pecca-^ 
tores faceremus boni?t Cilm etiam sanctissimi 
quique, quamdiu in vit^ hkc morantur, exiguum 
ade6 initium obediential habeant, ut ex ii& ne 
Vel unum opus proficisci queat, quod non jus- 
tam ignominiae poenam mereatur ?;{: Im6 quod 
non aetern^ potii!ls condemnatione, qu^m vitsB 
praemio sit dignum.§ Apagite ergo sanctuli 
operum sectatores cum bonis vestris operibus ; 
mea premite vestigia, qui. solflm in gratiam et 
misericordiam Dei fidem ac salutem meam ex- 
struo. Nam|| ita dives est Christianus, si mod 6 
baptisatus sit, ut eciens volens salutis jacturam 
facere nequeat per peccata quantacupque tan- 
dem sint, nisi fort^ credere detrectet. Haec 

* Luth. Senn. in N. T. 

t Catech. Heidelb. quaest. 114. 

\ Calv. Inst. lib. 3 chap. 14. dist. 9. 

§ Calv. cont. Concil. Trid. Sess. 6. c. U. 

•i Luth. de Capt. Babyl. cap. de Bapt. 


omnia ipsa Lutheri et Calvini verba sunt: An 
ver6 hi non Reformati Doctores ? 

Cone. Etiam ; tamen animadverto, amice, te 
tabulis istis confisum, liber^ nimis et liberaliter 
atrocia queeque peccata commisisse; proinde 
do Dei voluntate, qui sibi obediri vult, ut ent-r 
diaris est necesse. 

Fur, Vera loqueris, Concionator : N6nne 
ver6 existimas ek de re abund^ me cogit&sse ? 
Cert^ cogitaviy prud6nsque partes meas diu 
multdmque mecum pensitavi: Nam^ consider 
rabam voluntatem Dei duplicem esse, occultam 
vel revelatam ; t^ta ut Deus multa velit, quae 
nolle revelavit. Exemplo res patet. JDominus 
Moysis manu Pharaoni promulgavit edictum^ 
dicens, Mitte populum; ci!lmtamen occulta Dei 
voluntas et propositum fuerit ne populum de- 
mittferet. Nee hoc§ mirumvideri debet: quippe 
Deus occulto Decreto jad peccata destinavit, 
quos vias rectas incedere jussit. 

Cone. Quid ita ? Peccand6ne Dei voluntatem 
te arbitraris exsequi ? 

. Fur. Si occultamjl Dei voluntatem attendis^i 
qui decrevit res omnes ad scopum suum per-< 

* Strum, de Prsdest. Thes. 18. p. 117. 
t Id. Thes. 15. p. 31. 
X Perk, de lib. Dei gratid, pag. 45. 
% Calv. ad Calumn. Nebulonis, p. 858. 
II Sturm, de Praedest. Thes. 18v p. 17. 



ducere, et verbum ejpsequi res eventui accom-' 
modasy impii Dei voluntatem faciunt: Sin re* 
velatam voluntatem spectas, impii voluntatem 
Dei non faciunt. 

Cone. Rect^ ais; quocirca semper decebat 
te extemae Dei voluntati intentum fuisse, quia 
occulta Dei voluntas te latebat. 

Fur. San^y Concionator, bins istee volunta- 
tes Dei in cerebro meo perpetu6 moluerunt, 
sondntque veluti mola asinaria: Etenim vi- 
dens,* Deum non semper velle id quod se velle 
revelat, et ipsius revelatamt voluntatem impro- 
pri6, occultam verb propria voluntatem* esse ; 
praeterea, Deum:}; per ineffabile consilium velle 
ut in alium finem res ipsse fiant, quas fieri non 
vult, et ut perpetrentur prohibet, revelatae vo- 
luntati non multi!lm fui intentus. 

Cone. Qui tantas blasphemias eloqueris ? 

Fur. Ipsissimam veritatem eloquor; nam 
cdm occultajl voluntas semper, soldque tantiim 
fiat, et in mundo nihil accidat, quod ipsum 
Deus nolit ; im6 chxa haec occulta Dei voluntas 
rertim omnium sit necessitas, ita ut Deus ipse 
peccatum velit voluntate Beneplaciti; tutissi* 
mum arbitratus sum semper efficacem Dei vo- 

* Pisca. cont. Schafm. 

t Dungan. Pacif. fol. 56. 

X Calv. ad Calum. Neb. p. 861. ad art. 7. 

II Sturm, de Prsd. Thes. 1. fol. 3. 


luntatem sequi, ne frustaneum laborem capes- 

Cone. Manifestum* est Deum secundillm oc- 
cultum omnipotens Decretum et Beneplacitum 
nolle fieri, quod hominibus in verbo revelato 
praecipit : Et omnesf res, uti apparet, ^ Deo 
et ipsius Decreto infallibiliter ac necessarid pro- 
duci non eo inficias ; im6 express^ banc doctri- 
nam et sententiam meam esse profiteor: nihilo- 
minus decebat te h, peccato majori soUicitudine 
tibi ipsi cavisse. 

Fur. In sacris Scripturis legi, Concionator, 
k Christo vanam mentis soUicitudinem prohi- 
beri ; cujusmodi est, staturae suae cubitum ad- 
dere, sive pilum album nigrdmve efficere, et id 
genus alia: Perinde arbitrabar ego minils sa- 
pienter me facturum, si Dei ipsius Decreto et 
efficaci voluntati refractarius contr^ niti praesu- 
merem. Enimvero Joportet mecum fateare, 
omnes omnium hominum operationes et huma- 
nas commotiones, intemas et extemas, tarn 
malas qu^m bonas, mentis, cordis et voluntatis, 
dirigi et moderamen accipere h, vi et impulsn 
divinae providentiae, ut non possint quin eligant 
id quod Deus vult; ita ut in lapsu Adami cor 4 
Deo hoc in negotio ad finem eum destinatum 

* Rippert in CoUoq. p. 250. t Id. p. 252. 

X Stunn. de Pred. Thes. p. 1 12. 



fuerit. Atque hoc modo fit *ut homines nihil 

possint sive consulere, sive velle, nisi quod 

Deus ipsis inspirat aut indit, bonum nial(imve 

fuerit; ita ut is actu quoque hominum manus 

moderetur, ut mod6 vinctas eas teneat, mod6 

flectat horsum, retrorsum, qu6 illud, quod prae- 

destinavit^efficiat. Quod nontantflnide bonorum 

sed et perpravorum genere accipiatur oportet. 

.fNam quantopere etiam homines, tanquam 

efferae et indomitae bestiae omnes turpitudinum 

numeros expleant, exinde tamen emanate qu6d 

occultis et secretis habenis ita reguntur, ut ne 

transversum digitum deflectere valeant, quin 

Dei opus potiiis efficiunt, qucim proprium. 

:}: Etenim per instrumenta ita Deus operatur, ut 

non tantiim permittat qu6 id agant et faciant, 

sive ut eventum tantum moderetur, veriim ut 

ipse quoque excitet, impellat, moveat, regat, 

(et quod palmarium) creet insuper, ut per ilia, 

quod decrevit, efficiat. Atque hanc propter 

caussam proculdubio fit, qu6d Deus § volunta- 

tem et inclinationem ipsis quoque indit impiis, 

ut h4c ratione dici omnino possit, Deum || soli- 

tariam et genuinam cunctorum esse caussam, 

^[volens et efficiens ut impii in suis cupiditatibus 

* Calv. de Prasdest. ^. 842, 843. § Beza ad Calum. Neb. 1 1 . 
t Calv. de locis praecipuis. || Smout. Concord* fol. 2* 

X Beza adv. Castel. Aphor. 22. % Trig^. Def. fol. 172. 



vivant, et proinde* peccandi necessitas quoad 
Deum imponitur. Quocirca^ Concionator, quod 
hlc de soUicitudine ac vigilanti^ dictitas ac 
garris stultum est, et tua evidens fuit impru- 
dentia. Namt impii occulta Dei manu et vi 
sive potently, tanquam laqueo latente, nescient- 
tes diriguntur ad scopum ipsis ignotum; baud 
aliter atque sagitta emissa punctum ferit in 
quod k sagittario emissa est, quantumvis illud 
non meditetur vel n6rit. 

Cone. Id xnihi tu dictitare et garrire videris, 
ac si Deum peccatorum tuorum autorem sta- 
tuere non verecunderis. 

Fur. Si J per autorem intelligis eum qui 
suadet, adigit» impellit, vel quocunque mode 
occasionem subministrat quidpiam faciendi, 
tut6 san^ Deum autorem peccati nominare 
potes; verbi gratis ; cilm^ Adam caussa pec- 
cati, et Deus caussa Adami, quare Deus non 
caussa sit peccati? Im6 Deus|| prima est 
caussa peccati. Verillm cum grano salis base 
ita capias oportet. Idem^ delictum, utpote 
adulterium vel bomicidium, in quantum Deus 

* Gesel. Probl. c. 14. fol. 62. 

t Ren. in Cat. Aur. fol. 32. 

X Pezel. tract : de Prsdest. 

§ Job. Urba. in sua Tapeinopbrosyna resol. p. 7« 

II Ruard. Aero, expos, in Catechis. qu^est^ 9, 

% Zuingl. de ProTiden. ci^. 6. 

202 APPfiXDIX. 

est autor, motor et impulsor opeiisejus, nullum 
est scelus ; sed in quantum opus est hominis 
scelus est et indignum facinus. ^Etenim 
propter justas caussas, nobis tamen ignotas k 
Domino proficiscuntur scelera, quae ab homini- 
bus nequiter patrantur: fet Deus occulta ad 
peccata ea, quae prohibet, homines adigit^ :|im6 
Deus omnia in omnibus operatur^ etiam eas res 
quae peccata sunt, et quodcunque operatur, ir- 
resistibiliter operatur: Exemplo res pateat: 
^Deus per efficax Decretum et providentiam 
latrones ad homicidia cogit; quemadmodum 
Rex subditos suos ad solvenda tributa: et 
quemadmodum equo insidens ilium regit, cogit, 
adigit, impellit, ut eum in modum, et e6 abeat, 
qu6 vult. 

Cone. Anne ergo existimas sceleribus tuis te 
penitus non pecc&sse ? 

Fur. Im6 existimo ; nempe contra extemam 
Dei voluntatem ; at contra intemam ejus volun- 
tatem, mentem, et providentiam nequaquam: 
Nam II voluntas haec divini Beneplaciti turn 
quoque perficitur, quando homo contra prae- 
cepta Dei peccat. 

* Calv. de Praedest. fol. 844. 

f Pise. cont. Schafm. in pnefat. pag. 3. 

t Sturm, de Pradest. Thes. 15. et 16. 

§ Triglan. Defen. f. 164. 

II Ridpert. in CoUoquio. 


Cone. Veriim turn non ndras ne vel a 
te intemam et occultam Dei voluntatem peccatis 
tuis facere. 

Fur. Anne hoc quidem tunc cogitare pote- 
ram, Concionator? poterdmne in respectu ad 
divinam providentiam et regimen aliter cogi«- 
tare, quim tunc cogitabam ? Nam si occulta 
Dei providentia et Decretum fuisset ut illud. 
cogitdssem, non potuissem quin cogitdssem; 
sed quia interna ipsius providentia et Decretum 
non erat, secundilim doctrinam nostram, id 
cogitare non poteram. Im6 simul ac motum 
vel irritamentum ad quicquam quod Deus lege 
sud, prohibuit in me persentiscerem, illico men- 
tem meam ista subibat dubitatio, annon Dei 
interna et occulta voluntas esset, ut id perpe- 
trarem ; et annon me ad id adigeret impeller 
r^tque, quo per me efficeret, quod ab setemo 
inevitabili suo Decreto per me in actum sta- 
tuisset deducere; animum ita inducens; Si 
resisto, OfofAa^^c cum Lucifero perduellis Deum 
versiis videbor insurgere : atque sic qu6 impetus 
ferebatur ruebam, et nunc certo certiils novi 
intemam Dei voluntatem, Beneplacitum et De- 
cretum fuisse, ut omnia queecimque patravi, 
patrarem. Si enim absque ejus internd. volun- 
tate fuisset, in setemum non accidisset. Dicam 
quid ampliiis: Si quandoque mecum calculos 
accuratii!is subducerem, summo flagrabam de- 



siderio peccata acervare et peccata exaggerare, 
prospiciens gratissimum long^ Deo me lis fac-^ 
turum. ^Enimvero Deus magis delictis opus 
habet ad gloriam suam manifestandam, quan- 
idoquidem non misereri potest nisi miserorum^ 
neque just^ damnare nisi peccatores, f^^^ ^^ 
absque hoc si fuerit pertingere non potest ad 
principalissimos fines, apud hos quidem ad ma- 
tiifestationem misericordiae in salute; apud illos 
yer6 ad manifestationem justitiae in interitu. 
4i"Quocirca oportebat hominem labi et gratis 
excidere, ut Deus caussam haberet et occasi^ 
onem justitiam et misericordiam suam decla- 
randi. Deinde § peccata faciunt tam ad repro* 
bationem, qu^m ad praedestinationem ; qui 
€nim reprobantur, per ea ad aeteraum exitium 
ducuntur ; qui praedestinantur, Dei gloriam per 
peccata tant6 magis illustrant, dum ex illis 
cripiuntur. Proinde videns Deo peccata ac- 
cepta ade6 existere, ego creatura ejus cogita- 
bam, im6 saepius vocem banc ingeminabam : 
Ecce, Domine, servus tuus ad peccandum sem- 
per paratus. 


* Fiscat. ubi suprkThes. 35. pag. 32. 
f Id. Thes. 27. et Beza de Praed. cont. Castel. in ref. cal. 

X Smout. Concord, fol. 107. 

§ Martyr in L. C. class. 3. c. 2. dist. 48. 


' Cone. Veruntamen, amice, penitdsne curis^ et 
soUicitudine solutus vixisti ? / 

Fur. Im6 bono semper eram animo, ita col- 
ligens : Si *sum electus, Spiritus Christi con- 
versionem et fidem tali vi in me operabitur, 
quae electis est irresistibilis : Nam renoyatio eat 
creatio, quae non ab hominis arbitrio dependet, 
sed duntaxat k voluntate et potenti^ Dei. 
tQuemadmodum mortuus seipsum ex mortuis 
suscitare nequit ; ita ex peccato nuUo omnino 
pacto resurgere valeo quantumcunque tandem 
Dei yerbum in me sonet nisi Spiritua et vita 
mihi restituantur. Quare consultissimum ^ le 
me^ fuerit, tam diu moram ferre, Jdonec Deiis 
me inhabitet> et doctrin^ ac institutis suis dor 
meummoveat; nam ubi cogar ibi non potero 
quin sequar. Ex adverso ita concludebam : Si 
sum reprobuSy ^ omnis cura mea et labor, qui- 
bus ad salutem opus habeo, omnfsque dili-» 
gentia, quam fort6 probavero, frustr^ erunt, 
pliis oberunt qu^m proderunt: ||Im6 quan-» 
tumvis omnia omnium Sanctorum opera prae- 
stitero, salvari non potero ; ade6 firmum et im- 
mutabile Dei stat propositum. 

* Donteclock in Resp. ad ignoti scriptum litera L. 4. et M. 1. 

t Martyr L. C. de lib. arbit. pag. 978. 

X Bucer in £p. ad Rom. 9. 

§ Donteclock advers. Castel. p. 171. 

tl Marl, in Job. c. 15. t. 2. 


Cone. Dei vocationem et invocationem obser- 
vare debebas, ci!tin Deus verbo suo et Spiritu 
te vocaret. 

Fur. Poterimne me aliter gerere ac gere- 
bam? *Nam qui verfe per Evangelium, et 
intern^ per Spiritum Sanctum ex Dei proposito 
non Yocatur, Dei yocationi obedire nequeunt, 
fnihil omnino credere possunt, nee se conver- 
tere. £t Deus :}:trahit credentes per omnipo- 
tentem operationem, cui nolunt, nee possunt, 
nee velle possimt resistere. §Coguntur» nee 
possunt, quin vocantem sequantur, quos Deus 
inhabitaty et quibus institutis suis cor movet. 
Simili rem iUustrabo. || Quemadmodum nemo 
nativitatem suam impedire potest ; neque resus* 
citationem ex mortuis impedire poterit ; pariter 
nemo omnino operationem gratiae Dei in Christo 
impedire potest, quando nos ed. regenerare, et 
ex spirituali morte suscitare vult. Ex his 
abund6 perspicis, si ^ Deo himc in modum 
efficaciter vocatus et tractus fuissem,^^ter non 
potuissem agere, qu^m sequi et morem gerere. 

Cone. An ergo Deum vocantem te vel mo- 
ventem nunquam audivisti ? 

Fur. Equidem audivi saepius; sed optim^ 

* Gesel. in probat. fo. 38. f Id. fo. 39. 

X Smout. in pnef. Concord, f. 9. 
§ Anthon. Thys. in doct. et ord. Reform. EodesiiB. 
Contra-Remonst. in CoUoq. Hag. 


ndstiy quemadmodum Deo externa et interna 
est voluntas ; ita quoque ipsi extemam et in- 
temam vocationem esse. *At extetna vocatio 
cum intemi si fuerit conjuncta, opus demum 
est sive effectus prsedestinationis et ineffabile 
ejus signum. Atque hoc est quod Synodus 
Dordracena non ita pridem admodum praeclarfe 
dixerit; ')'Qu6d aliqui in tempore fide k Deo 
donantur, aliqui non donantur, id ab ipsius 
aetemo Decreto provenit, secundiim quod De- 
cretum Electormn corda, quantumvis dura, gra- 
tios^ emoUit, et ad credendum inflectit : non- 
electos autem justo judicio susemalitise etduritise; 
relinquit. Proinde frivol^ nimis et infri qu^m 
decebat, efFutire videris, Concionator, tantopere 
me increpans ; qudd Dei vocationem et invita- 
tionem non admiserim ; expiscans item ex me ; 
Annon Deum vocantem et moventem audiverim. 
:}:Etenim qudd alii per Ministerium Evangelii 
vocati veniunt et convertuntur, id non est ad- 
scribendum homini tanquam seipsum per li- 
berum arbitrium ab aliis pari vel sufficient! 
gratis, ad fidem et conversionem instructis dis^ 
cementi, (quod superba Pelagii hseresis statuit) 
sed Deo, qui, ut suos ab aetemo in Christo 
eligit, ita eosdem in tempore efficaciter vocat, 

* Paraeus in Rom. cap. 9. dub. 1 1 . 
t Syn. Dord. cap. 1. art. 6. 
t Id. cap. 3. et 4. art. 10. 



fide et resipiscenti^ donat, et ex potestate tene- 
brarum erutos in Filii sui regnum transfert. Imo 
c6m *regenerationein et novam creationem 
Deus sine nobis in nobis operetur ; ea autem 
virtute su4 nee creatione, nee mortuorum susci- 
tatione minor aut inferior, ade6 ut omnes illi, 
in quorum cordibus admirando hoc modo Deus 
operatur, cert6, infallibiliter, et efficaciter rege- 
nerentur et actu credant: Cur me accusas 
qu6d non fui conversus ? Atque ut dicam quod 
res est, non video quo modo possibile sit, ut 
semper dubius adhuc et fluctuans electusne sit 
an reprobus, vocationi aetemee se conformare 
queat, hoc insuper obice relicto, ut vocatio in- 
terna non concurrat. 

Cone. An ergo ipse animo tuo concepisti te 
teprobum esse ? Horrendum san6 ! 

Fur. Concepi; nee sine causs^: quia enim 
Deus -fmaximam hominum partem ex Bene- 
placito suo reprobavit, et ifreprobi propter 
peccata non reprobantur ; neque praevisa pec- 
cata in causs4 sunt cur aliquis reprobetur, ut 
necessario fateri oporteat, § mala opera et in- 
credulitatem reprobationis non esse caussam, 
ita quidem ut Deus ex consilio et voluntate sui 

* Syn. Dord. cap. 3. et 4. art. 12. 
t Smout. Concord, fol. 109. 
X Triglan. Def. fol. 83. 

§ Gesel. probat. foL 216, 217. Calv. Inst. lib. 3. cap. 23. 
sect. 6. 


ordinavit qu6 homines nascerentur qui k matris 
utero infallibiliter morti smt traditi, ut illorum 
interitu nomen divinum glorificetur: Animo 
meo ista volutans, saepenumero tacitus cogi- 
tavi ; Optime Deus ! anne me quoque cum 
maxima hominum parte reprob^sti ? facile cre- 
diderim, quandoquidem in reprobatione ade6 
tibi placuisti, ut nomen tuum exinde glorificetur. 

Cone. Verissimum hoc est : Qudd Deus *ab 
aeterno, absque uUo peccati respectu, per purum 
absolutum suum Deere turn, quod nemo intelli- 
gere potest, maximam generis humani partem 
rejecit, et ad interitum creavit, vel in Adami 
lapsu reliquit ex immutabili et inevitabili De- 
creto, quod secum ipse decrevit : Imd si quis- 
quam dicat, qu6d Deus fneminem odio ha- 
buerit, aut odisse decreverit, qu^ homo est ab 
ipso conditus, sed tantiim in quantum peccator, 
ille Apostolo contradicit : Tu verd interim non 
debes illico animo concipere, te quoque repro- 
bum esse. 

Fur. Optim^ dicis; verilm quomodo possi- 
bile est, ut homo cujus fides toties tantis op- 
pugnatur tentationibus, multisque peccatis est 
deditus, facilfe sibi imaginetur, se non repro- 
batum esse ? verbi causs4 ; Si n6rit secdmque 

* Anthon. Thys. ad Summam Baronii, pag. 20. 
t Id. pag. e£Ulem. 



perpendat^ inter *reprobatos occurrere non tan- 
tiim annosos sed et infantes, ita ut fex infantibus 
morientibus quidam serventur, quidam dam- 
nentur, antequam boni quid malive fecerint. 
Nam Jexecutio divini Decreti de reprobandis 
infantibus ita habet : Simul ac nati et mortui 
fuerint, jam in aetemum damnati erunt, propter 
originalis et innati peccati reatum, qui ipsis 
inest; atque ^propterea ex vit4 Mc plurimi 
infantes evocantur, Deusque innoqpntes infantes 
k matrum uberibus rapit, ac in aetemam mor- 
tem prsecipitat. Im6 quod magis est; Deus 
non ,tanti!lm cum Judaeorum, Ethnicorum et 
Turcarum infantibus ita agit, veriim || id quoque 
locum habet in baptizatis Christianorum sive 
credentium infantibus, ut quidam ex iis in in- 
fantii morientes damnentur. Proinde ^an cert6 
omnes infantes h credentibus parentibus pi'og- 
nati et in infanti^ morientes indubitat^ ser- 
ventur, e^ de re verbum Dei tacet. Ausim 
dicere quid amplius. Cum** infantibus qui in 
Christo moriuntur, antequam quiddam operari 

♦ Perk. Cat. Aured, pag. 393. 

t Thys. in Expl. Doct. de Praedcst. pag. 245. 

X Perk, ubi supra. 

5 Cal. ad Calumn. Nebulo. ad Art. 13 et 14. 

II Donteclock in pacif. lit. L. 

% Anth. Thys. lib. ant^ citato, pag. 226 et 227. 

** Rippert. in Colloq. pag. 802. 


potuerunt, ita agitur; aut servari debent ex 
gratid^ aut damnari natur^ debent^ tanquam 
filii irae, sicut et caeteri, San^, Concionator, 
rigidae hae rationes sunt pro eo> qui symbolaiH 
tenetur solvere ; ea propter ignoro quid nomine 
hoc sentiam. 

Cone. Audi, amice ; *Si in potestate aut liber- 
tate hominis bovem aut ovem in suum mactare 
usum^ vel leporem aut perdicem voluptatis 
caussA venari et interficere; mult6 magis absque 
v\\k injustitii in voluntate et libertate Creatoris 
situm erat, creaturam suam rejicere, et ad 
gloriam suam deserere : Im6 millies aequius est, 
ut omnes creaturae in coelo et in terri, aeterno 
suo interitu gloriae et majestati divinae demon- 
strandae serviant, qu^m ut muscae interemptio 
aut nex pulicis omnium hominum totius orbis 
terrarum dignitati demonstrandae serviant. At* 
que hoc in Deo non est improbandum sed de-- 
praedicandum ; et electi non possunt quin Deo 
sununas gratias agant, qu6d impios reprobirit ; 
quandoquidem illos ad salutem nostram lepro- 
bavit, et ad testificandum quanto amore erga 
nos flagret : Im6 ipsi reprobati non habent quod 
de eo querantur, verillm potiils quod gratias 
agant; nam si apti sunt ad interitum, Deus 
tamen illos non frustrd aptavit, sed ad multos 

^ Parous in £p. ad Rom. cap. 2. qusest. 9. 




prseclarissimos fines, et praecipufe ad suam glo 

Fur. Atque hoc in caussA fuit, *qu6d saepii^s 
cogitavi, nos reprobati tant6 magis ut acquiesca- 
mus oportet : Nam quamvis si privatum et pe- 
culiare spectetur bonum, melius esset natum 
non fuisse qu^m condemnari, tamen propter 
publicum et universale bonum in hoc mundo 
contrarium (nempe reprobari) est melius, ut pe- 
culiare serviat universali, et creatura cedat ho- 
nori Creatoris. Quocirca quantumvis medi^ in 
aestate nares mei frigore ferm6 essent concreti, 
olfacere tamen poteram futurum esse, nos h 
Deo ad Tartara deturbatos, luentes agere 
coactum iri gratias, qu6d nos creaturas suas 
servitio tam sancto fuerit dignatus. Enimvero 
dignitast praecipuae Dei gloriaB, et electorum 
commodum ade6 est ingens, ut electi per inte- 
riorem ejus pensitationem, Spiritu Sancto acti 
opt4rint proprio interitu et damnatione (si pos- 
sibile fuisset) reprobatorum ex Judaeis salutem 
redimere. Saepenumero mentem meam haec 
subibat cogitatio ; Nos reprobos 6 terque qua- 
terque felices ! 

Cone. Omne ingenii acumen operAmque in 
hoc de reprobatione argumento videris impen- 

* Gomar. Disp. de Praedest. p. 105, 106. 
t Ibid. 



disse; praestabat te verbo duntaxat et praedi- 
cationiy quA te vocabat, morem gessisse. 

Fur. Non diffiteor; verum quamdiu repro- 
batio ista cerebro meo impressa erat, monitus 
*saepe animum ita inducebam : Reprobi in aeter- 
num Deo, etiamsi ipse vocaret, obedire non 
queunt, nee credere, nee se convertere, nee jus- 
tificari, nee salvari possunt ; ^[et ideo non con- 
vertuntur, quia Deus non vult eos converti: 
Im6 Deus :{;quibusdam reprobatis in Ecclesid 
congregatis gratiam suam oflFert in verbo, saepe 
quoque per Sacramenta, non eum in finem ut 
per ea salventur, sed ut ex adverso minorem 
reliquis excusationem habeant, et in fine gra- 
viiis puniantur. 

Cone. Omnia haec ipsissima sunt Veritas. §Nam 
quos Deos ad vitae ignominiam et mortis interi- 
turn vocavit, ut instrumenta irae suae essent, et 
exempla rigoris sui, eos, ut ad finem suum perve- 
niant, privat facultate verbi sui audiendi ; postea 
magis eos excaecat et intricat verbi ejusdem 
praedicatione. ||Saepius quoque in reprobatis 
fides deprehenditur, quae maguam cognationem 

* Muse. L. C. de Elect, c. 10. . 

t Trigl Def. fo. 156. Calv. in Ezek. 18. 23. 

I Anth. lliys. in Doct. ct Ord. Ecclesiae Reform, p. 21 . f. 21 6« 

§ Calv. Init. lib. 3. cap. 24. Dist. 12. 

II Id. lib. 3. cap. 2. Dis. 11. 



et affinitatem habet cum fide electorum; et ex- 
perientia docet^ illos saepe cum electis pari 
fenah motu et sensu duci, ita ut saepenumero 
se electos arbitrentur. Quand6que *accidit ut 
quidam gratiae ipsius auxilio attollantur, ut do- 
num cceleste gustent, semen Dei accipiant: imo 
Ecclesise inserti videantur ; ita ut aliis salutis 
viam monstrent, ipslque non aliter ndrint et 
arbitrentur, qu^m se electos esse: Infelices 
tamen hi homines in altum scandunt ut lapsu 
graviori ruant, et ut Deus graviori illos afficiat 

Fur. Id quidem et ego prob^ ndram, atque 
propterea omnes exhortationes, omnes conci- 
ones, omnes verbi lectiones fugiebam, ade6que 
omnia bona opera evitabam, ne magis excae- 
carer, intricarer, et graviiis damnarer. Ira6 
expressis verbis asserebam; faequ^ ac Dei pro- 
positum et sincera mens non est, eos qui in vit^ 
suSi non vocantur, ad salutem banc deducere ; 
pariter ipsius mens et propositum non fuit, re- 
probos qui vocantur salvare, quoniam ipsi non 
placet iis fidem et resipiscentiam donare, sine 
quibus salvari nequeunt. Deus ifab omnibus cul- 
tum et obedientiam exigit, verilm non omnibus 
hominibus in corrupto hoc statu potentiam obe- 

* Bex. in brevi explic. capt. 7. Aphor. 6 et 7. 
f Donteclock adv. Pacif . lit. L. 1 . 
X Trigland. Apol. fol. 135. 



diendi dare decrevit; ab omnibus quibus ver- 
bum praedicatur fidem exigit, veriim omnibus 
fidem donare non vult. 

Cone. Reprobationem banc menti tuae alt^ 
infixam semper habuisse mihi videris. 

Fur. Non usque ade6 altfe infixam habui, 
Concionator, quand6que duntaxat hujusmodi 
mihi cogitationes occurrfere; ut plurimiim id 
firmum meo stetit animo, me verfe electum esse, 
de quo nee jam nunc uUus dubito. 

Cone. Ne audacter pronuntiare praesumas, 
tiblque ipsi temerfe confidas, te electum esse, 
postquam k teneris profligatorum ade6 perdi- 
torumque morum fuisti, nee ad hunc usque 
diem vitam in melius mut^sti, ita non multos 
electionis tuae fructus edideris. 

Fur. O bone vir! necesse est ut scias, *eos 
qui electi sunt non statim k matris utero, neque 
omnes uno tempore vocari. Im6 antequam ad 
supremum Pastorem congregantur, dissipati in 
communi deserto vagantur; et in seipsis k reli- 
quis non penitus discemuntur, nisi peculiari 
Dei misericordi^ custodiantur ne in aetemam 
mortem prolabantur; fnec Deus ad tempus 
uUum aut vitae qualitatem astrictus est, quo 
electos vocet, ita ut de nemine dubitandum sit. 

* Calv. Inst. lib. 3. c^. 24. Dist. 10. 
t Muse. loc. com. de fide, cap. 7. 



in quocunque vitae cuniculo fuerit, aut quam- 
cunque tandem vitam egerit : Nam nullum ge- 
nus peccati ade6 est grave, quod coelestem 
vocationem prohibere queat. Ex quibus luce 
meridian^ clariiis liquet, ob id non statim de 
me desperandum esse, si non omnino vitae ade6 
inculpatae non fuerim, utl tu quidem dicturus 

Cone. Attamen tuum erat bonis, utl Aposto- 
' lus docet, operibus salutem tuam firmam fe- 

Fur. Quomodo haec tibi tam inept^ excide- 
runt, Concionator? Anne Electio nostra k bonis 
operibus dependet? Deponam qu6d non, et 
propterea penitus sum persuasus ; *Ipsos Elec- 
tos in gravissima scelera prolabi, utpote adulte- 
rium, homicidium; fimd interdum in tales 
errores, quibus salutis fundamentum saepe ex 
parte, saepe ex integro evertitur, mere; vel alid 
ratione contra conscientiam quodvis Dei prae- 
ceptum transgredi, et turpiter gravit^rque pec- 
care. Verilm omnia ista minimum obesse pos- 
sunt. JNam Deus electos suos peccantes dam- 
nare non vult, quandoquidem salutis illorum 
fundamentum in aetern^ electione situm est, nee 

* Zanch. in Miscel. p. 329. 

t Ruard. Acron. Explic. Catech. quest. 53. fol. 137. 

t Wilhel. Teeling. in Dialog, de Statu Horn. Chriat. p. 44. 


mille peccata, im6 omnia totius mundi peccata, 
ade6que omnes in inferno Diaboli, Dei elec- 
tionem evertere nequeant. Fieri potest ut pec- 
cata nostra corda obdurent^ fidem infirmam 
reddant, attamen fidem tollere not possunt, nee 
Spiritum penitus exstinguere, ita ut Deus ne- 
minem propter peccata damnet, qui in Christo 
Jesu in filium est adoptatus. 

Cone. An ergo non metuebas ne damnareris, 
aut in iram Dei incideres? 

Fur. Nihil omnino metui, ne minimiim qui- 
dem: *Nam qui praedestinati sunt penitus 
rejici aut deseri in aetemum nequeunt; semel, 
quia ex certo et immutabili Dei Decreto electi 
sunt; iterum, quia in Christo non nisi in per- 
petuum possunt diligi. 

Cone. Veriim convertisse te debebas, et se- 
cundum Dei voluntatem te composuisse, ut 
peccatorum tuorum remissionem adipiscereris. 

Fur. Tu, quantum video, de fnovo Foedere 
non aliter sentis ac de veteri, quod in condi- 
tionibus legis situm erat; si hoc feceris, si 
crediderimus, constant6sque perseveraverimus, 
beus hoc ilKidve faciet, &c. Quae regula h 
diametro cum pacto novi FcEderis pugnat. 
JDeus pangit nobiscum Fcedus novum, et hoc 

* Toss de Praed. c. 3. Zanch. de Nat. Dei. 1. 7. q. 1. 
t Smout. in Script. Consent, fo. 12. 
X Id. fo. 31. 


nobis promittit, non tantum absque ull& condi- 
tione ; sed etiam dum k conditione longissimfe 
absumus; dum in mediA morte peccatorum 
jacemus. *Ecce abluit Deus et remittit pec- 
cata antequam cor renovat et regenerat; et 
utrdmque facit antequam boni quid fecimus ; 
etiam dum impuri adhuc sumus, et nomen ejus 
profanamus. Hoc inde progerminat, tq^^d 
Deus omnes suos electos antequam crederent 
et resipiscerent, singulari, aeterno, gratioso 
et salvifico amore est prosecutus. Enimvero 
(quemadmodum sancta Synodus Dordracena 
Jinquit) Electio facta est non ex praevisA fide, 
fidelque obedientiA, sanctitate, aut aliA aliqu^ 
boni qualitate et dispositione tanquam caussi 
sen conditione in homine eligendo praerequi- 
sitd ; sed ad fidem fidefque obedientiam, sanc- 
titatem, &c. Ac proinde Electio est fons omnis 
salutaris boni, unde fides, sanctitas, et reliqua 
dona salvifica, ipsa denig[ue vita aetema, ut 
fructus et efFectus ejus, profluunt. 

Cone. Quousque tandem disputationem pro- 
trahes? Labella compesce, k disputando ab- 
stine, seram noctem esse cogita, et periodum 
tibi perbrevem superesse; proinde soUicitus sis 

♦ Smout. in Script. Consent, fo. 46. 

t Gesd. Probat. fol. 33. 

X Acta Synodic cap. 1. art. 9. 


qu^ \ik certissim^ salvari queas^ dum vit& Mc 
tibi excedendum. Pauli verba 1 Cor. vi. 10. 
tecum considera : Neque fur, inquit, neque ra- 
pax regnum ccBlorum possidebunt ; illud tamen 
tibi possidendum si salvari debes. 

Fur. Anne animae me% miserse arbitraris te 
pharmacum ostendere posse? 

Cone. Crede in Jesum Christum, dole ob 
peccata, k Deo beatam implora catastrophen, et 
horam qu^ tibi donet remissionem peccatorum 
et vitam ^temam. 

Fur. Quid mihi credendum est ut rectfe in 
Christum credam ? 

Cone. Credendum tibi est, Jesum Christum 
tui caussA, passione et morte snk, remissionem 
peccatorum et vitam aetemam meritum esse: 
Hoc tibi in Evangelio prsecipitur. 

Fur. Quaecunque Evangelium praecipit stint- 
ne Veritas vel mendacium ? 

Cane. Ipsa sunt Veritas. 

Fur. Anne Christus passione et morte su& 
omnium causs^ ista acquisivit? 

Cone. ^Quantumvis humana ratio etiam in piis 
scandalum inde capit, et quidam ex Evangelicas 
doctrinae Doctoribus multum tumultuentur ac 
debacchentur quando audient doceri, Deum 
nolle ut omnes salventur, sed certi quidam; 

* Pise. con. Schafm. in Disp. de Praedest. pag. 12. 


Christum item non pro omnibus esse mortuum ; 
nos tamen utrumque firmiter tenemus, firmis- 
simis Scripturae dictis innixi, ita ut disertis 
verbis asseram; *Deum reprobis nullum Me- 
diatorem constituisse : Nam Christus electorum 
tantilm Redemptor est, non aliorum. 

Fur. Annon f Christus reproborum caussd 
mortuus est, et placamentum factus ? 
• Cone. Quaeso si electa Christi es ovicula, 
quare reprobis et damnatis patrocinaris ? Lege 
judicium JSynodi Dordracenae, illud te doce- 
bit ; Qu6d hoc Dei Patris liberrimum fuerit con- 
silium et gratiosissima voluntas et intentio, ut 
mortis pretiosissimae filii sui vivifica et salvifica 
efficacia sese exereret in omnibus electis ad eos 
solos fide justificante donandos, et per earn ad 
salutem infallibiliter perducendos; Hoc est, 
voluit Deus ut Christus per sanguinem crucis 
(quo novum Foedus confirmavit) ex omni po- 
pulo, tribu, gente et linguA, eos omnes et solos, 
qui ab aetemo ad salutem electi, et k Patre ipsi 
dati sunt, efficaciter redimeret, et fide donaret, 
quam, ut et alia Spiritfts Sancti salvifica dona, 
ipsis morte su^ acquisivit. 

Fur. Anne omnes homines sunt electi? 

♦ Perk, de Spir. Desert, pag. 3. 

t Paian. Explic. quar. in llelig. dlff. p. 154. quxst. 4. 

X Cap. 2. art. 8. 


Cone. Nullo modo; *Nam Deus tantdm ex 
mero suo Beneplacito, sine ullo futuree impie- 
tatis respectu, maximam hominum partem ad 
setemum interitum ordinavit. 

Fur. Tandem send et bonA fide mihi enarres, 
quem me existimas? Electum an reprobum? 
Respond^sne, an dubitas? Eloquaris, nee ver- 
borum integumentis rem involvas, lingua in 
pectore non faciat divortium, cordis et oris esto 
Concordia, utl sentis candid^ et apertis verbis 
edissere. Hoc ut sciam est necesse; si sum 
reprobus mendacium crederem ; Christus quippe 
reproborum causs^ nihil acquisivit : si sum elec- 
tus, veritatem sequar, non mendacia ; sed veri- 
tatem quaerere opus demum est Evangelii. 
Proinde ante omnia sciam, utriim electus sum 

Cone. Quivis t in Ecclesi^ Dei praecepta te- 
netur credere, qu6d per Christum sit redemp- 
tus ; reprobus aequ^ ac electus ; quisque tamen 
peculiari modo. Electus tenetur credere, ut 
credens electionis fiat particeps; reprobus ut 
credens ex Dei intentione, e6 miniis habeat 
quod respondeat : X Atque ideo Christus repro- 

* Pise. coQt. Schafm. Thcs. 115. pag. 119. Smout. Concord, 
fol. 109. Bucan. L. C. dc Praedest. quaest. 46. 

t Perk, de Piwdcst. pag. 89. Goar. dc Praed. Thes. 8. Dun- 
can. Pacif. p. 68. 

X Gomar. de Pnedest. llies. 21 . 


bis offertur, non ut salvi fiant^ sed ut ab incre- 
dulitate et corde suo refractario convicti, omni 
excusatione careant. 

Fur. Hoc vis dicere; Deum reprobos velle 
credere id quod est mendacium; Im6Jpsum eos 
aetem^ damnatione multare, quia id quod men- 
dacium est non crediderint: et quid impedit 
quin ita ? Nam * postquam Deo reprobos dam- 
nare stat sententia^ perinde est quocunque modo 
illos damnet. 

Cone. Subtilitates istas, quaeso, mitte; Deum- 
que oremus potiiis ut aetemam tibi salutem 

Fur. Si orare vis, pro teipso ora: orando 
frustr^ laborem impendere nolim : Si sum repro- 
bus, non salutem consequar, si vel mille annos in 
precando insumerem : Nam freprobatio firma et 
immota stat, ade6 ut, sicut electi reprobari non 
possunt, pariter reprobi electi non possunt eva- 
dere. Est quippe reprobatio immutabilis tam 
^ parte Dei reprobantis, qukm h parte hominum 
reprobatorum. Quid hlc ergo preces profi- 
cient? Ex ad verso, si sum electus, Deus ab 
aeterno salutem mihi destinavit, et :j; omnes qui 
i Deo ante mundi creationem ad salutem ordi- 

* Nicas de Schure in Instit. 

t Polan. in Doct. de Praedest. pag. 139. 

X Donteclock Instruct, de Praedest. p. 93. 


nati sunt, Dei potentiA (ut propositum dec- 
tionis firmum stet) ad earn perducentur, tarn 
firmiter et cert6, ut impossibile sit illos dam- 
nari, aut tandem perire posse. Atque semper 
haec fides mea fuit, secundiim quam ambulavi, 
et Synodus Dordracena ade6 me in ek con- 
firmavit et certum reddidit, ut ustulari mallem, 
qu^m vel tantillum ab ek recedere. Express^ 
enim asseverat; * Atque ut Deus ipse est sa- 
pientissimus, immutabilis, omniscius, et omni- 
potens; ita Electio ab ipso facta, nee inter- 
rumpi, nee mutari, nee revocari aut abrumpi, 
nee electi abjici, nee numerus eorum minui 
potest. I Concesso insuper qu6d electi inter- 
dum juxta Dei permissionem, in peccata gravia 
et atrocia abripiantur, utl David, Petrus, aliique 
Sancti, et J talibus enormibus peccatis Deum 
offendant, mortis reatum incurrant, Spiritum 
Sanctum contristent, fidelque exercitium inter- 
rumpant, conscientiam gravissimfe vulnerent, 
sensum gratiae ad tempus nonnunquam amit- 
tant: Deus§ tamen ex immutabili Electionis 
proposito Spiritum Sanctum etiam in tristibus 
lapsibus ab ipsis non prorsus aufert, nee e6 
usque cos prolabi sinit, ut gratii adoptionis aut 
justificationis statu excidant, aut peccatum in 

♦ Cap. 1. Art. 11. { Art. 5. 

t It. C^. 5. Art. 4. § Art. 6. 


mortem, sive Spiritum Sanctum, committant, 
et ab eo penitus deserti in exitium setemum 
sese praecipitent. *Ita non suis mentis aut 
viribus, sed ex gratuity Dei misericordii id 
obtinent, ut nee totaliter fide et gratii excidant, 
nee finaliter in lapsibus maneant aut pereant. 
Quod quoad ipsos non tantiim facile fieri potest, 
sed et indubitatfe fieret; respectu autem Dei 
fieri omnino non potest, ciim nee consilium 
ipsius mutari, promissio excidere, vocatio se- 
cundiim propositum revocari, Christi meritum, 
intercessio, et custodia irrita reddi, nee Spiritiis 
Sancti obsignatio frustranea fieri, aut deleri, pos- 
sit. Im6 quod amplius est, fcum reprobatio in- 
terna et aetema Dei sit operatio, quae reips^ non 
differt ab essentia Dei, quare de Electione non 
sit disserendum hoc duntaxat dicam: Apud 
omnes in confesso est et concessum, tarn repro- 
bationem qu^m electionem non difierre ab ips4 
Dei essentia, et proinde Deum ipsum esse, qui 
in semetipso immutabilis est, procul k me absit, 
ut rogem qu6 Deus mutatur. 

Cone. Bone Deus! qu^m abominandum est 
hujusmodi audire? Anne homo ed usque pro- 
cedere potest, ut te, peccatis et miseriis onus- 
tus, nolit invocare ? 

Fur, Canerem potiiis, Concionator, ut cubicu- 

♦ Art. 8. t Polan. in Doctrini de Pneidest. 


lum resonaret, pulcherrimiim hymnum b, Ber- 
nardo Bischop, antehac in Geldrorum Oyen, 
nunc Ultrajecti Concionatore, confectum. 

Cone. Si iste vir hymnum confecit, necesse 
est bonus sit, est enim Concionator doctrinae 

* ■ 

Oithodoxse; fac ut audiam. 

Fur. Diligenter ausculta« Melodia Psalmo 
teftio ultra centesimum respondebit: breviter 
in eo> popularit^rque percipies universam fidei 
mei normam ac regulam, secundflm quam vivere 
juxt^ et mori statui. 


Benedictus sit Deus, qui me nondum natum, 
im6 antequam mundus conderetur, ad salutem 
prsedestinavit, non ex fide aut operibus, quae in 
vit^ Me facturus essem, sed ex ipsius duntaxat 


Benedictus sit Deus, qui ex immutabili suo 
consilio per Spiritum Sanctum suum intus me 
traxit, verb6que suo extus vocavit, qui caecum 
intellectum meum et corruptos sensus Spiritu 
suo intern^ illuminavit, et indies porr6 magis 
magisque illuminabit. 


Arbitrium meum pravum, errabundum, ser- 
Tum et peccatorum mancipium, jugo hoc eman- 



cipavit, ita ut nunc in viis Domini perpetu6 
incedere unic^ desiderem ; posse duntaxat mihi 


Benedictus sit Deus, qui Spiritu suo omni- 
potenti et verbo divino unanimiter operans fidem 
firmam cordi meo implantavit ; talem fidem, 
tdmque indubitatam fiduciam, quse cruce aliis- 
que durioribus periculis infirma quandoque red- 
ditur, non tamen frangitur. 


Quis Dei electos seducet ? Quis me k chari- 
tate Christi segregabit? Quis ex forti ipsius 
manu me eripiet ? Nee Diabolus, nee mors, nee 
mortalia peccata robore et potenti^ in tantum 
praevalebunt, ut certum hoc mihi depositum 


Deus optimus, qui bonum opus in me coepit, 
pro misericordii sud continuabit, et ad finem 
usque perficiet, ad finem usque miserae hujus 
vitae, Dominus Deus faciet, ut Spiritu suo 
semper stipatus perseverem. 

Commentariensis. Finem tandem faciatis; dis- 
putationes istas et cantiones amplii!ls audire 
nolim. Hiccine est hymnus Domini? Cantilena 
est quae furciferum decebat, et k perversissimo- 


rum nebulonum turM cam decebat. Pariter se 
habent doctrina vestra et fides. 

Fur. Vituperes, Commentariensis, quantiim* 
cunque veils, insignem ego existimo esse hym- 
num» et si mihi moriendum fuerit, in patibuli 
scal^ ilium canam, loco illius. Ex profundis, 
Domine, &c. Concionator qui hymnum com- 
posuit est ex Orthodoxis Contraremonstranti- 
buSy noQ ita pridem ex parvulo viculo in urbem 
Ultrajectum evocatus, ubi pro hymno hoc 
abund^ respondit, ipsumque ita defendit, ut 
ibidem in Orthodox^ £cclesi& tanquam Scrip- 
turse consentaneus sit receptus. 

Com. Haeccine est Orthodoxa ilia doctrina, 
qu4 Prorinciae hae tantopere turbantur, quaeque 
ut una in Ecclesid sancta habeatur, Synodi au- 
thoritate, im6 vi militum unic^ agitur? San^ 
delicati quid est. 

Cane. Expediret, Commentariensis, te os 
tuum obstruere iis in rebus, quas intellectu tuo 
Don assequeris: Vide quid dixeris, et desine 
Ecclesiam ejtjsque doctrinam calumniari, aut 
malfe tecum agetur, brevi nempe ad minimum k 
careens praefecturA. deponeris. 

Com. Si ista optima vestra argumenta sunt, 
Concionator, doctrina vestra non ade6 bene sit 
firmata. Quantumcunque ver6 mineris, nihil- 
ominus hoc tibi dicam oportet; prob^ me ani- 
madvertere qudd pariim consilii n6ris captivum 



hunc ad veram pcenitentiam, et k peccatis ejus 
conversionem transferendi ; im6 qu6d hominum 
vestrorum dogmatibus mult6 magis in iis obdu- 
ratur. De Dogmatuin vestrorum capilibus mul- 
tiim san^ audivi, nunquam tamen credidi nisi 
nunc, ubi auritus et oculatus testis ex ore tuo 
omnia ista percepi. Haeccine cert6 est re- 
formata doctrina? Si deformata nuncuparetur, 
id quod res est diceretur; utpote quae ex se 
nihil operari et efficere potis est, praeterquam 
securitatem in hominibus excitare, im6 ansam 
praebere, ac stimulum addere in peccatis qui- 
busvis perseverandi. Quocirca, Concionator, 
quoniam doctrin^ tud apud hunc aegrotum nihil 
potuisti proficere, abeas potiils ; ego laternd ac- 
cens^ alium adducam, hisce institutionis vestrae 
capitibus contradicentem, et diversum in Reli- 
gione sensum sequentem, qui longfe, opinor, 
certiiis facilidsque ad dolorem de peccatis ac 
vitam meliorem deducet et adiget. 

Cone. Facias quodcunqueallubescit; idmod6 
ratum tibi sit, te non impun^ hoc laturum. 

Cam. Facias quod potes: ut viri hujus anima 
servetur, pluris majorisque aestimo qukm tuam 
gratiam : interim insignem tuam amarulentiam 
et rancorem satis sup^rque prodis. Deus noc- 
tem tibi bonam largiatun 

APPENDIX, No. 111. 






Libidinein dominiuidi, caaiara belli habent, & maziroain gloriam in 
maximo imperio putant — Salust, Fragm, 

Nam doli, non doli sunt, nisi Astu colas. 
Sed malum maximum, si id palam pervenit — 

PUaUut in Captiois. 

Ambitio jam more sancta'st, Ubcra'st a legibus. 
Peterc honorem pro flagitio, more sit : 
Mores, leges perduxenint jam in potestatem snaro. 







My Lord, 

I was never so proud, as to think I could write 
any thing that might abide the test of your judicious eye: 
what I now send, appeals to your candour, entreating 
you to lay aside the person of a judge for that of a friend. 
It is at best but a pamphlet, whether you consider its 
bulk, or worth. The result of a few pensive hours spent 
in recollecting what the memory had registered from 
public observance, or private reading, in a theme so sadly 
copious as this is. If it be not impertinent to tell you 
what hinted to this trifle, it was this : — Having had an op- 
portunity to look abroad into the world, I took some 
notice of the contrastos of the Italian princes, I re- 
marked the Spaniard's griping Portugal, his grounds for 
the challenge of that kingdom, and his way of managing 
those grounds; I looked upon his method of propagating 
Christianity in the West; (where, one says, the Indian is 
bound to be religious and poor, upon pain of death.) 
Moreover, I observed with what artifice the Pope 
moderated in the European quarrels, and with what de- 
vices he twisted the Gospel and the advantage of the 
chair together; and in aU the strugglings and disputes, 
that have of late years befallen this comer of the world, 
I found, that although the pretence was fine and spiritual, 
yet the ultimate end, and true scope, was gold, and great- 



ness, and secular glory. But, my Lord, to come near, 
ivhen I saw kingdoms tottering, one nation reeling against 
another, yea, one piece of a nation justling the other, and 
split into so many parties, and petty enmities ; and each 
of these quoting Bible to palliate his mad and exorbitant 
opinions; I sighed, and it grieved me to see popular 
easiness and well meaning, abused by ambitious, self- 
seeking men ; for there is a generation that is bom to be 
the plague, and disquiet, and scourge pf the age it lives 
in ; that gladly sacrifice the public peace to private inte- 
rest: and when they see all fired, with joy warm their 
hands at those unhappy flames which themselves kindle, 
tuning their merry harps, when others are weeping over 
a kingdom's funeral. 

But, above all, it pierced my heart to see the clergy in 
such an high degree accessory to the civil distempers, and 
contentions, that have every where shaken the foundations 
of Church and State, so that (as the Catholic noted) 
there hath' been no flood of misery, but did spring from, 
or at least was much swelled, by their holy-water. I 
searched the Evangelical records ; and there was nothing 
but mild and soft doctrines : I inquired into the breath- 
ings of the Spirit, and they were pacificatory. I won- 
dered from what precedents and Scripture encourage- 
ments these men deduced their practices, and at last was 
forced to conclude, that they were only prttended chap- 
lains to the Prince of Peace : those torches that should 
have been for saving light, were degenerated into fire- 
brands : those trumpets that should have sounded retreats 
to popular furies, knew no other music but martial All- 

I have endeavoured in the sequel, to represent to you 


the arts of ambition, by giving you the picture of a per- 
son over covetous of glory : the piece is coarse, but yet 
like ; drawn only in water colours, which some of greater 
leisure and abilities may possibly hereafter lay in oil. 

You know, that the desires of man are vast as his 
thoughts, boundless as the ocean, ^ bored tub is not more 
insatiate.* It is pity that greatness should at any time 
be out of the road of goodness ; and I would sometimes, 
if I durst, with Socrates, curse him that first separated 
profitable and honest. 

It does to me a little relish of paradox, that wherever 
I come, Machiavel is verbally cursed and damned, and 
yet practically embraced and asserted ; for there is no 
kingdom but hath a race of men that are ingenious at the 
peril of the public ; so that as one said of Oalba, in re- 
spect of his crooked body, Ingenium Galba male habitat; 
so may I say of these, in regard of their crooked use ; 
that wit could not have chosen a worse mansion, than 
where it is vitiated, and made a pander to wickedness. 

If you ask me, what I mean to trouble the world, that 
is already under such a glut of books, you may easily per- 
ceive, that I consulted not at all with advantaging my 
name, or wooing public esteem by what I now write ; I 
knew there was much of naked truth in it, and thought it 
might possibly be of some caution to prevent the insinua- 
tion of pious frauds, and religioi^ fallacies, into my na- 
tive country ; if any plain hearted, honest man shall cast 
away an hour in perusing it, he may perhaps find some- 
thing in it resembling his own thoughts, and not altoge- 
ther strange to his own experience. It is not the least 
of our misfortunes, that sins and vices are oft-times en- 


deared to us b^ felse titles and compliments ; being coz- 
ened with a specious name, though much incoherent to 
the thing we ascribe it : or else, omitting the vice which 
is the main, it intimates only the virtue, which is the by : as 
for example, we call an ambiguous man f&eyoXnnilSoXo^, a 
person of noble aim and high enterprise : whereas, in 
truth, it signifies, an indirect affecter of grandeur. And 
I find, that by incautelous entertainment of these phrases, 
our judgments are often bribed to misapprehensions, and 
we seduced to bad actions. I have endeavoured in the 
ensuing discourse, to wipe off the paint and fucus : that 
so things may appear in their true complexion, unadul- 
terated with the slights and subtleties of deluders. 

My Lord, that your Lordship may be one of those 
which the dark poet calls S)$ rjSri(ravla, that the youth of 
your honours may be renewed to you, that your happi- 
ness may know no other season but a spring, is the earnest 
vote of your bounden Servant. 



1 HAT nothing in this might deter a common eye, the 
quotations are translated, not xaroL to^$, but as might 
best serve the sense and scope of the Author : yet I be- 
lieve thou wilt find little in the English, virhich is not 
warranted by the original, or (which is more) by the 
truth. I invite none to it, but such as desire to be just 
valuers, and loyal observers of a good conscience. Now, 
if thou be not banished by the verdict of thine own breast, . 
thou art welcome ; otherwise read it, not as directed to 
thee, but meant of thee. This book is like a garment 
in a broker's shop, not designed to any one person, but 
made for any that it fits. 

My intent was, to represent to you in the general (not 
mentioning particulars) a cursed, a wicked, but yet a 
fortunate Politician : it was a good caution that Cassius 
gave the Senate, concerning Pompey.* It is foolish to 
laugh in the face of Dionysius, and dangerous to shrug 
before Andronicus : it is not good to tempt the displea- 
sures of tyrants upon idle scores; a thin shield will serve 
to keep out the st^le of a satirist ; nor can I conunend 
him that lost his bishoprick for a romance. 

Therefore I brand not persons, but things ; and if any 
man's guilt flashes in his face when he reads, let him 
mend the error, and he is unconcerned. It is to no pur- ' 

* Nos ilium deridemus, «sed timeo ne ille nos gladio ata- 


pose to tell that there is a second part, t^in and coeta- 
neous to this, that was once intended to run the same 
fortune ; but I have many reasons, besides my own 
weakness, to publish a valediction to the press, (especially 
as to discourses of this nature) ; and if ever, I would fain 
have it seen by a fairer light. 

The great God of Heaven pour into us such inward 
props and comforts, as may help us to stem and bear up 
against the rugged traverses of degenerous times. 

And let it beget in us milder opinions of adversity, 
when we consider that the winter of affliction does the 
better fit us to bear the eternal verdure of glory. 

The time will come, when all shadows and apparitions 
• shall vanish: glorious mom! when wilt thou dawn? 
Then these sullen clouds shall be scattered, right re- 
stored, worth prized, virtue honoured, vice degraded, 
and honesty rewarded. Farewell. 

The name of prince, which I often use, must be under- 
stood as convertible with any person or persons, whom 
God hath intrusted with a just supremacy ; all the dia- 
lects of government being concerned in the abuse; I have 
made the chief, and most familiar, to represent the rest. 
I am not ignorant, that the quotations may justly seem 
more numerous than method and the rule of art will 
conveniently allow. I have this to say, to vindicate me 
from affectedness; that I have been little studious of 
elegance and curiosity in the composure, esteeming 
nakedness to be the best dress of truth : and, if I mistake 
not, those attendants I have here procured her, may 
afford some material, though little ornamental advantage. 


It is far from the design of this Treatise, to 
derogate from the honour of the calling, or 
worth of the person of any sober Statesman. 
'Tis a knowledge that no man observes with 
more due respect than myself; because I know 
it in no mean degree essential to the peace and 
flourishing condition of a Kingdom, or Com- 
monwealth. Tis a jewel to be locked up in 
some few rare Cabinets ; and not to be made 
cheap, and exposed to irreverence, by being 
bared, and prostituted to every vulgar eye. 
The Pseudo-Policy here mentioned is contra- 
distinct to that science, which is ever built 
upon piety and prudence ; for upon these solid 
bases your wise architect delights to raise the 
glorious superstructure of government in a 
prince, and subjection in a people : so knitting 
the interests of both, with reciprocal mixture, 
that the welfare of the one may be involved in 
the good of the other : that majesty may be 
preserved in its just splendour, and yet the 


liberty of the subject remain inviolate. He is 
the Atlas of the falling state, cures it when sick, 
sets it when disjointed, meets it in its several 
pressures with suitable reliefs. Such was 
Philip de Commines, of whom one said, it was 
a measuring cast, whether Lewis were the wiser 
king, or Philip the wiser counsellor ; such was 
Burleigh to our late Queen Elizabeth, whose 
advice had very eminent influence into the 
prosperity of her reign, which was such as I 
believe few ages can parallel, and future times 
will render her happy annals, as written like 
Xenophon's Cyrus,* discovering not so much 
what was, as what should be : not intended for 
a true history, but for the effigies of a just em- 
pire. So that if we love peace, or plenty, or 
liberty, we are bound in way of acknowledg- 
^nt, to own that in Plutarch,t True Policy 
deserves to be put in the first file of virtues. 

But as the corruption of the best things 
makes them worst, so this noble knowledge 
hath been abused to loose and ambitious ends 
by some men, J who seem to have sucked the 
venom out of all politics, misapplying what was 
good, and creating new, according to the ur- 

* Non ad historiae fidem^ sed ad exemplum justi Imperii, 
f T9( m^>SU*fiq i^iiiit M^tnrovq h xreireu riXMoIi^f. Cato Maj. 
X Ophyogenes et Psylli. 


gency of their own occasions, like the laws that 
were made in Causinus's Babel, to be ruled 
by manners, and not manners by laws. They 
vex true policy by misinterpreting, and false 
glossing;* framing in their hearts, Dianas of 
hypocrisy and subtilty, and worshipping them 
in their actions. 

The rules following, there are few so silly as 
to believe, though too many so wicked as to 
practise ; and not only so, but by a bold im- 
posture to persuade, that such actions as are 
deduced from those principles are justifiable, 
and, if fortunate, commendable. 

That all may see these rocks, and shun them, 
and detest knavery, though never so specious, 
and nauseate sin, though robed in successes and 
triumphs, is my daily prayer. 

* Furialibus commentariis illustrant. 


The Politician must have the Shadoto of Religion, but the 

Substance hurts. 

There is no superstition in politics more 
odious, than to stand too much upon niceties 
and scruples : and therefore Machiavel cut the 
hair when he advised, not absolutely to disavow 
conscience, but to manage it with such a pru- 
dent neglect, as is scarce discernible from a 
tenderness : not permitting it to be techy and 
relucting, nor yet prostituting it, unless upon 
solemn and insuperable occasions. He notes it 
from Papirius in Livy, who slighted the PuUarii 
handsomely, and was rewarded ; whereas Ap- 
pius Pulcher did it grossly, and was pxmished. 

But because the politician is best able to 
tell his own documents, you may please to 
conceive you found these broken discourses in 
his study : to each of which I shall add an 

External holiness invites awful regards ; there 
is no mask that becomes rebellion and innova- 
tion so well as religion ; nothing that so much 
conceals deformity, and pretends beauty. Tis 

VOL. ri. R 


an excellent thing so to dissimulate piety, that 
when we act strongly against it, in that very 
article of wickedness the people saint us. 
Herod would fain worship, when he means to 

In th' act of sin do but religion cry. 
Says Tereus, you as holy are as I.* 

This is that which leads the world in a string, 
that hallows the most hellish enterprizes ; for 
the common people (which are the to roxu) never 
see behind the curtain ; a handsome gloss is 
with them as good as the text. I believe the 
great naturalist was in the right, when he called 
a, deity a jolly invention. Tis ridiculous to 
think, that God troubles himself about sublu- 
nary things, but 'tis not fit the world should 
know it.f Let me enjoy the temporal advan- 
tages of religion, and let others take the eternal ; 
let me use it for a cloak or a crutch, and let 
others expect from it a crown. 

The river in Athen8eus;j; is my emblem, whose 
upper waters were sweet and grateful, but to- 

* Ipso sceleris molimine Tereus 

Creditur esse pius. 

f Irridendum, agere curam rerum humanarum quicquid est 
summum, sed credi ex usu vita est. Plin. 1. 2. Cap. 6. 

X 43 Fens in Mileto, cujus profluens aqua dulcissima, qu» 
ytro in imo salsa. 



wards the bottom brackish. Let me be a su- 
perficial, let others be fundamental Christians. 
I like the humour of the Samseans in Epipha- 
nius, that were neither Jews, nor Gentiles, nor 
Christians, but preserving a commodious cor- 
respondence with all. Whatsoever I act in 
reference to heaven, is merely theatrical ; and 
done in subordination to some other interest. 
Lycurgus could never have ingratiated his laws 
so effectually, if he had not pretended a dialogue 
with his goddess. Tis to me indifferent, whe- 
ther the religion I personate be true or false, so 
it be but popular : and if the people I mean to 
juggle with, err fundamentally, I can by no 
means court them more, than by embracing 
their delusion. It buckles them very close to 
me in moral observance, to assist them in their 
spiritual fondness, and mix with their distem- 
per ; and therefore I commonly lead the van in 
the faction, and call it Jure Divino, though I 
never found it but in hell's black canons. 

How comfortably the pope and cardinals con- 
ferred notes. How profitable has the tale of 
Christ been to us ?* O the rich income and 
glorious result of hypocrisy ! This, this must 
be diligently studied and practised. 

* Quantum nobis lucri peperit ilia fabula de Christo ! 



If that my deeds of darkness may 
Be hid in clouds as black as they ; 
If being ugly I may paint. 
Why then I am a true new Saint.* 

Privacy for a sin, and cleanly conveyance for 
a cheat, make it to common eyes seem as white 
as innocency itself: the strictness of that thief 
was very notable, who always before he went 
about the work of his calling (for so he called 
stealing) went to prayers, that God would bless 
and prosper him. So, I say grace to the design, 
be it never so wicked ; and give thanks for the 
success, be it never so bloody. 

But further in subserviency to a loose in- 
terest, there must be no such puling thing as 
conscience. Hell, and Heaven, and Scripture, 
and what else the Christian esteems most sa- 
cred, must all truckle under the plot, but not 
be observed when they come to oppose it. Had 
Alexander boggled at invading other men s 
kingdoms, he had never wept for the scarcity 
of worlds. There is no greater obstacle to ge- 
nerous actions, than a coy and squeamish con- 
science. Tis pretty that some tell us, that it 
strikes surdo verbere, with a still and silent 

* Da justum sanctumque videri, 

Noctem peccatis^ et fraudibus objice nubem. 

Horace Epist. b. 1 . £p. 1 6. 


stroke ; and then how can it be heard in the 
noise and bustle of a clamorous world ? Had 
your mighty conquerors, and your valiant cap- 
tains, and your thriving popes, listened to this 
inward charmer, their names had never swelled, 
and looked big in the rolls of fame. 


But let all sober Christians know, that this 
shell of religion, though it may be of external 
conducement, yet there is nothing that God s 
pure and undeluded eye looks on with more 
abhorrency. We may possibly deceive men, 
but it is in vain to put ironies upon God. A 
counterfeit religion shall find a real hell ; and 
'tis pity that such a sacred thing should be 
violenced, and made subservient to rebellious 
irregular designs. 

As for such who have conspired with the 
wrath of God in the stupefaction of their con- 
iSciences, though they may for a time struggle 
with those inward checks, yet. there will be a 
day (if not in this life) when that witness, that 
judge, that jury, will not be bribed. God hath 
fixed it in the soul, as an internal register, as an 
impartial diary, as the censor of the affections, 
and pedagogue of the passions.* It does not 

* Origen. 



only illustrate divine justice in an Autocatacrisy, 
but was meant by God for a bridle and restric- 
tion. And he, that hath by an inveterate 
wickedness conquered the opposition which 
God seated in his heart to sin, may possibly 
consult well with his present advantage and 
greatness, but not at all with his future com- 
fort ; for besides the loss of that intimate plea- 
sure which waits upon innocency,* he feels 
sometimes those bosom quarrels that verberate 
and wound his soul ;— for 


The Politician must by all means make the most in-- 
sinuating Applications to the People that he can ; and 
lock up his own Design, in Pretence for Religion, Li- 
berty, Restitution of Laws, Reformation of Gabels, fyc. 

The prosperity of innovation depends, in a high 
measure, upon the right knack of kindling and 
fomenting jealousies and dislikes in the people ; 
and then wielding those grudges to the favour 
and advantage of private ends : for the people 

* Vimun in pectore. 


are to the politician^ like tools to the mechanic ; 
he can perform nothing without them ; they are 
his wings, his wheels, his implements, the pro- 
perties ^hat he acts with. 

That this may be done effectually there must 
be an excellency, in these following sleights. 

First. To assign such a cause of grievances* 
and such a course for redress, as may open a 
way to the alteration he aims at : as, if he means 
to alter the government, or to engross the supre- 
macy, he must artificially convince of a necessity 
to arm, 1. defensively, and if that succeeds, 2. 
offensively. This he may do by false alarms of 
danger, inventing horrid news, and plying the 
people with such fictitious perils, as may make 
them believe, religion, and liberty, and all is at 
stake, and that they are the geese that must 
save the capitol. 

Secondly. When he sees opportunity to re- 
veal his own design, he must do it gradually, 
and by piece-meal ;* for that which at one view 
would be a Mormo to fright them, give it them 
in small parts,% and they will digest it well 

Thirdly. He must compose his very garb and 
gesture. It is a great matter to tell a lie with a 
grace. As, if Religion be the mode, he must 



in his tales knock his breast, attest God, and 
invoke imprecations upon himself if he does not 
do that, which he never intends. 

Fourthly. He gives them good virords, and 
bad actions, like those the historian brands with 
a Crudelitatem damnatis, cnuklitatem initis, ra- 
vishes them with apprehensions of liberty, under 
the highest strain of oppression : for it is most 
certain, if you please them with the name, they 
will embrace it for name and thing. Some- 
thing like this had been imposed upon Rome, 
when the orator writ to his friend Atticus,* 
that they were cheated in names, for military 
licence was miscalled liberty. This is well de- 
scribed by Plautus in Truculento.t 

Pretence white as milk^ 

And as soft as silk 

Will do the feat : 
Your hearts, as sour as gall. 

Purpose our thrall. 

And thus ye cheat. 

Fifthly. He observes, that they receive pro- 
babilities wisely propounded, more greedily 

* Nomina rerum perdidimus, et licentia militaris libertas to- 
catur. Ingeniosi muscipulatores, 

t In melle sunt linguae sitae vestne, atque orationes, 
Lacteque : corda felle sunt sita^ atque acerbo aceto. 
E Unguis dicta dulda datis, at corde amar^ facitis. 


than naked truths: and therefore he is very 
studious to glaze and polish his impostures,* 
that so they may to a loose eye dissemble 
truths according to that of Pindar.t 

Glorious lies. 

Well marshard tales. 

Do still find favour : 
Truth all forlorn 
Intreats and wooes. 

But none will have her. 

But that of Menander : 

Let but the vulgar judge 

(The Poet knew) 
They'd take the probable 

And leave the true.j: 

Sixthly. When he hath, by the assistance of 
the people, got the sword into his own hands, he 
awes them with it, and frights them into future 
compliance. He that courted them before with 
all the adulatory terms that ambition could in- 
vent, or they receive ; as if he had been vowed 

f BpoTtf V ffiftt 


their martyr, and ready to sacrifice his dearest 
enjoyments upon the altar of public liberty and 
freedom ; as if his veins knew no other blood, 
but such as he would be proud to spend in their 
service ; having now served himself of them, he 
forgets the bosom that warmed him ; they hear 
from him now in a palinode ; he curls up his 
smooth compliments into short laconics, and 
exchanges his courtship for command. 


First, we may be assured, that there is no 
greater index of ambition, than an affectation 
of popularity : which appears in meek addresses 
to the people, wooing and familiar condescen- 
sions, bemoaning their sufferings, commending 
a more vigorous sense of them. That of the 
Comic is no bad rule :* 

'Tis not for nought, when those above 
Tender their service, and their love. 
These are but profitable arts. 
Their tongues are strangers to their hearts. 

Or that which Livy notes of a grandee : pride 

* Non temerarium est ubi dives bland^ appellat pauperem. 
Altera manu fert lapidem, panem osteotat altera : 
Nemini credo, qui longe blandu'st dives pauperi. 


never condescends without design.* The ex- 
treme kindness of fawning of great persons is 
always suspicious, because often fraudulent; 
remember the Sileni, that used to kill with hugs 
and embraces. 

Secondly. Know it is very usual for men to 
personate goodness, till they have accomplished 
their ends ; it is observed of Appius, when he 
had his wish^t ^^ 1^^^ wearing of another man's 
person. It is an old note.;}: 

Before the man 

Had got his end 
He was all Puritan : 

What he would have 

He thus obtained; 
And then resumed Knave. 

Athenaeus tells a pretty story of one Athe- 
nion, bom obscurely, who, as long as he was 
private and poor, excelled in a soft and tract- 
able disposition, but when by juggling he had 
obtained the Athenian government, there was 
none more odious for a cruel, covetous and 

* Credebant baud gratuitam in tantd superbid comitatemfore^ 
f Finem fecit gerends aliens persons. 
i Maxima pars morem hunc homines habent ; quod sibi volunC, 
Dum id impetrant, boni sunt^ sed id ubi jam penes seser 

Ex bonis pessimi, et fraudukntissimi sunt. 


barbaric tyranny ; as it is reported of Caligula, 
there was never a better servant, and a worse 

Thirdly. We know, that a good aim, much 
less a good pretence, cannot justify a bad action; 
and therefore we ought to be as solicitous about 
the lawfulness of the means, as about the good- 
ness of the end. It is a maxim in morality, 
that bonum oritur ex integris, and in Christianity, 
that we must not do evil, that good may come 
of it ; and we may possibly rescue ourselves 
from future cozenage, if we examine the law- 
fulness of every circumstance leading to the 
end propounded, before we are tickled and 
transported with the beauty of the pretence. 


If the Supremacy be invaded, the Lapses of the former 
Magistrate must be inculcated with the greater advan- 
tage, and what is wanting in reality, must be supplied 
in Calumny. 

It cannot easily be imagined of what singular 
importance the aspersing and blotting of a 
prince is, to boil up popular discontent to that 
height, which is requisite for a rebellion ; and 


here it must diligently be inquired, if there 
have not been indeed such lapses, as have 
galled the people; and though they be old 
sores and skinned, yet they must be searched 
and refreshed, and exasperated with all the 
urging circumstances that come within the in- 
vention of scandal. It must be remembered, if 
any persons of public note have suffered under 
the sword of justice, whose crimes can by art 
or eloquence be extenuated, whose hard mea- 
sure must be mentioned with tears, that so old 
traitors may be propounded for new martyrs. 
This hath been the ordinary method of ambition, 
as you may find it noted by a great scholar,, in 
these words: "It was ever the most compendious 
way of usurpation, to dissemble a strong affec- 
tion to our country ; lamenting the vices of the 
prince, and miseries of the people ; not with an 
intent to rescue them from servitude, but to get 
such a portion of favour, as may lift us up to 
the same pitch of honour on their shoulders ; 
which having obtained, we transcendantly 
abuse, changing the rods of royalty into the 
scorpions of anarchy, aristocracy, or a free 

* Fuit h»c omnibus sxculis, et adhuc est ad occupandam 
tyrannidem expeditissima via, dum summo se amore, ac pietate 
in patriam esse simulant, principum vitia, et populi miseriam, 
apud suos primitm, deinde palam querebundd voce lamentantur. 


Tis the fashion of fortunate rebels, to feed 
the people with shells and empty names, as if 
their bare assertion could demonstrate to us 
(against all experience^ that 'tis freedom to be 
slaves to quondam peasants, and slavery to be 
subjects to a true and natural prince. And 
therefore if the prince be severe, he gives them 
Nero's brand, a man kneaded up of dirt and 
blood : if he be of parts and contrivance, he 
calls it pernicious ingenuity : if he be mild and 
favourable to tender consciences, he declaims 
against his toleration. If he urge uniformity 
and decency in divine service, he rails at his 
superstition. And because there is no such 
equilibrious virtue, but has some flexure to one 
of the extremes, he is very careful to publish 
the extreme alone, and to silence the virtue. 

But if the prince hath by carriage of extraor- 
dinary innocence, vindicated himself from ob- 
loquy (which shall scarce be, if small faults be 
rightly improved), then Machiavel's advice must 
be followed, to calumniate stoutly, till the peo- 
ple have entertained something to his preju- 

non quo plebem^ cujus solius commodis inserviri videri volunt, 
ab illo servitutis jugo asserant in libertatem ; sed quo populari 
aurk subnixi, aditum sibi et januam ad earn ipsam dignitatem, 
nequiora aliquando ausuri patefaciant. Barcklay contra Mo- 
narch, 30. 


dice: Tis a figure in politics to make every 
infirmity a fault, and every fault a crime : and 
if the people be disposed to alteration, these 
must be first urged against a monarch to depose 
him, or, if need be, to murder him; which is 
commendable, if you can dress him up like a 
tyrant, as you may find it justified by an honest 
Scot,* who complains, that there are not some 
glorious rewards appointed for tyrannicides: 
and by the best of orators :-[ the Grecians gave 
divine honours to those that killed tyrants. 
And by the tragedian :X 

More grateful victim none to Jove can bring. 
Than is the blood of slaughter'd unjust king. 

And secondly, these personal faults must be 
artificially devolved upon monarchy itself. 

There remains to disperse the commendation 
of that government which is intended for a 
successor : if aristocracy, the long-lived pros- 
perity of Sparta and Venice, is a very plausible 
evidence of its goodness; if democracy, the 
happiness of the Romans under their tribunes, 

* Buchanan. 

t Gnpcos^ Deonim honores tribuisse iis^ qui Tyrannos neca- 
verunt, Cicero pro Milone, 

X Victuna baud ulla amplior potest, 
Magisve opima mactari Jovi, 
Quhm Rex iniquuB. Seneca Hercules furens. 

256 • APP£NDIX. 

i% very memorable ; to which may be added 
this out of Machiavel/ ' that they are the most 
suitable guardians of any thing, who are least 
desirous to usurp it : and without doubt, con- 
sidering the designs of the nobility and the 
people, we must confess, that the first are very 
ambitious of rule, the last desire only not to be 


I presume that person is very rare, that can 
boast of such an absolute saintship, whilst he is 
amongst mortals, but that there will now and 
then some actions fall from him, which confess 
humanity, and require candour; some leaves in 
the volume of the fairest life, are legenda cum 
venid. If this be a common frailty, why do we 
fix such rigid censures upon the miscarriages of 
princes ? Or why do we deny them the same 
mildness which we use, when we commiserate 
the infirmities of oth6r men ? Tis yet much 
more disingenuous to revive and pore upon a 
few bad actions, which, it may be, have been 
long ago expiated with many good. Take this 
fi"om no mean statist :t * 'Tis an unjust way of 

* Up. on Livy, p. 22. 

t Iniqua in onmi re accusanda^ pnetermissis bonis^ malomm 
enumeration vitiorumque selectio ; nam ne ullus quidem isto 
modo magistratus vituperabilis non erit. 


accusing^ to omit the good offices of a prince, 
and to select and publish only his bad ; for by 
this means, no magistrate shall be innocent. 

As greatness gives a gloss to the virtues of a 
prince, so it mitigates his vices ; for if we look 
upon him as circled with honour, and all out- 
ward enjoyments, we see withal, what variety 
of temptations he hath to struggle with above 
others, having no other guard, no other weapon, 
than his mere virtue ; sometimes, we are de- 
fended from a sin, by our very impotency ; it 
may be above our sphere, or out of our reach ; 
we do not, because we cannot ; how often are 
our wills offenders, when our hands are inno- 
cent ? We are checked from without, he com- 
monly from within, having nothing to dispute 
with his immoderate desires, but himself. This 
is that which enhances the goodness of a prince, 
as that excellent poet (Spencer,) leads his tem- 
perate knight through all the delicacies and 
charms of pleasure, and delivers him a con- 

But suppose a magistrate really tyrannical ; 
it is no contemptible question, whether the evils 
of the redress may not be equivalent to the 
mischief? I remember Livy's,* * We can nei- 
ther abide the disease, nor the remedy ;' and 

* Nee morbum ferrc possumus, nee remedium. 


Plutarch's,* * A civil war is worse than an irre- 
gular monarchy;' and Tacitus, t * The humours 
of kings are to be tolerated, nor is it useful to 
change them: whilst there are men, there will 
be vices. The miscarriages of a prince may be 
great, but the virtues of his successor may be 
greater:' and Seneca, J'He is unfortunately sick, 
that is more in danger of his physician, than of 
his disease.' Poise the miseries of a civil war, 
with the grievances of an unjust magistrate, and 
the politician must make many grains of allow- 
ance from fallacy to make the scales even. For 
though the fury of incensed tyranny may fall 
heavy upon many particulars, yet the bloody 
consequences of an intestine sword are more 
epidemical and more permanent. 

As to the charging the faults of a governor 
upon the government itself, I see nothing in it 
but delusion, nor can there be a more gross 
abuse, than to make the office guilty of the 
officer's abuse,§ 

t Fereuda R^gum ingenia^ neque usui esse crebras muta- 
tiones : vitia enint donee homines^ sed neque haec continua^ et 
melionim interventu pensantur. 

I Infsliciter sgrotat^ cui plus periculi k medico qudm h 



For king-killing, because I know it a techy 
subject, I shall wholly omit all discourse of it ; 
only I find it damned by an able English di- 
vine,* as Jesuitical ; and Tacitus commends to 
subjects rather scutum than gladium, the shield 
of patience and toleration, rather than the 


The Politician must nourish some mercenary Jesuits, or 
other Divines, to cry up his aims in their Churches, that 
so the poison may insinuate more generally into all the 

He that peruses history will find, that there 
hath been no innovation so gross, no rebellion 
so hideous, but hath had some ecclesiastical 
fomenters ; for such as want worth enough of 
their own to reach preferment in a regular way, 
are most apt to envy the just honours of better 
men; and despairing to obtain their end by 
learning and piety, they aspire to it by the 
crooked means of faction and schism. Nor are 
those despicable instruments to the politician, 

* Jo. Goodwin in his Anticavakis. 



for the sharpest sword in his army cannot vie 
services with a subtle quill. You may see his 
business in the comic writing^ disputing, that 
so his tongue is a shield to his patron's opinion, 
and a sword to his adversaries. 

The Jesuit reckons it in the number of his 
merits, if he may, by any sinister ways, ruffle 
and disorder heretical kingdoms (so he calls 
them), encourage weak and unstable minds to 
slight magistracy, irritate divisions, tumults, 
rebellions, absolve from oaths, and all sacred 
ties; so that it is hard to find any tragical 
scene, or bloody theatre, into which the Jesuit 
hath not intruded, and been as busy, as Davus 
in the comedy, contributing in a very high mea- 
sure to every fanatic insolence, justifying the 
old Lemma of Loyola's picture, Cavcte vobis 
principes. These are the fire-brands of Europe, 
the forge and bellows of sedition,'!' infernal 
emissaries, the pests of the age, men that live 
as if huge sins would merit heaven by an anti- 

2. Nor is any nation without some turbulent 
spirits of its own, the dishonour of the gown 
and pulpit, the shame, and sometimes the ruin, 

* r^a4^y, /3ifXi^«», xa» tii yKuriii 9oKiyLier«i9. — Aristophanes, 
t Classica canerc. 


of their country; you would think they had 
their text from a Gazette, because you hear so 
much of a curranto in the application ; that 
these may be fit implements for the politician, 
there are these requisite qualifications. 

I . There must be a principal gift of wresting 
the Scripture, vexing and urging the holy text, 
constraining it to patronize the design; the 
great Apostle expresses this in three very em- 
phatical terms : ^ 1 . Cogging the Die, making 
the Word speak what they list. t2. Crafty 
Applications, and Expositions of it. :{:3. All 
the Methods and Arts of Cozenage,^ gilding 
and varnishing rotten doctrines. And this 
must be done, 

1 . In public, vomiting out flames and sulphur 
from that Sacred Pegma, where he should de- 
liver none but mild and soft, that is. Evangelical 

||2. In private, at parlour sermons, and 
meeting houses, where he is listened to as an 
oracle ; and here commonly he is more Enthu-^ 
siast than Scripturist, and his auditors believe 
his dreams to be as canonical as the Revela- 

II 'OixofO^^i. Evangdiopthori. 



tion ; like those Melancthon speaks of. Their 
dreams are ail new lights ;* or those that the 
Father chides, when he tells them that every 
whimsey is not propheey-t 

3. He ought to be of some abilities in dis- 
puting ; and what he wants in logic, he must 
supply in garrulity : for whatsoever he affirms, 
the interest he hath in his seduced hearers, im- 
proves into a syllogism. You ask after his 
topics,^ he has his arguments from Gregory, 
but not the Saint. If, after his weapons,§ he 
carries the name of Christ in the van of rebel- 
lion and robbery ; and the wound he makes is 
faction ;|| those consciences which will not sur- 
render to his parley, his Master takes by storm : 
and thus he abuses Christ, by pretending his 
favour to unwarrantable actions : he abuses his 
prince, by alienating the affections and allegiance 
of his subjects; he abuses the church, by shat- 
tering it into rents and schisms, wounding it 
with a feather from its own wing, snatching a 
coal from the altar, to fire both Church and 

* Quicquid somniant^ volunt esse Spiritum Sanctiini. 

X Ex officina camificum argumeDta petit. — Popul. Taxmru-- 
6ia. — S. Hierom. 

§ Armat se ad latrocinium per Christi nomeiu 
II Strada. 


State ;^ And lastly, he abuses himself; for 
when the politician hath made his best use of 
his seditious spirit, he leaves him to his own 
wild distempers, having directed his own 
thoughts to another goal. 


Although we have caution enough against 
these in sad and frequent experiences, these 
latter ages groaning under the effects of an 
exorbitant clergy ; yet such is the easiness and 
credulity of the vulgar, such the subtlety and 
dissembled sanctity of the impostor, that he 
meets with as great a proneness in the people 
to be cozened, as he brings willingness to de- 
lude ; for it is a true observation, that these 
clancular Sermocinators bear as great sway in 
popular minds, and make as deep impression 
upon their consciences, as the loyalists do when 
they impose upon their blind laity. 

I dare only subjoin a few advices. 

First, I should suspect a clerical statist, I 
mean such a one as in the dispensation of sacred 
oracles, tampers with secular affairs, unless it 
be in case of high concernment to his auditors' 

* Ecclesis nomine ai'mauiinl^ et contra Ecdebiam dimlcatu. 




Secondly, I should bdieve him a juggler, that 
sprinkles his sermons with murmurs against the 
lawful magistrate, ecclesiastical or civil ; unless 
he hath some better ground for his dislike, than 
a thwarting his humour in things controversial 
and adiaphorous. 

Thirdly, I should more than doubt his kna- 
very, that should suborn Scripture, to attest, 
or incite to illegal actions, as of kin to that 
which Salvian calls^ religious wickedness. 

Fourthly, t All news in religion, whether in 
doctrine or discipline, is the common skreen of 
private design. Let Maecenas tell it, * All inno- 
vators in religion, let them be severely punished, 
for they are fomenters of sedition.'^ Which is 
noted by the great Casaubon in his Epistle be- 
fore his Baronian exercitations, thus : * Novelties 
in the church are never without these sad con- 
sequences ; they rend the seamless coat of our 
blessed Saviour ; they breed schisms, and then 
brood and multiply them ; they shake the fun- 
damentals of the Church and State,'§ &c. 

Tis sad to see Urania, divine Urania, inroUed 

* Religiosum scelus. f ICai»of «vmi. 

wo^^tff ya^ ufavu^o'tf ei^jJl^MfOfAtTw. — Apud Dion. Cass. 

§ Cupiditas novandi haec secum mala semper trahit ; Christi 
inconsutilem tmiicam lacerate sectas novas parity et statim mul- 
tiplicat^ Ecclesiam et populum concutit^ &c. 


in blood ; the stars and luminaries of the church, 
to shed such black and malignant influences ; in 
lieu of pious documents to hear none but furious 
incentives ; 

No matter for the church, or laws. 
You may confide in such a cause.* - 

f The cause they serve is the doctrine, and 
the use, the egg, the apple, the head and foot 
of all their discourses ; if you like to confer 
notes, you may find a piece of their sermon iii 
Barclay, to this effect ; * They extol Evangelical 
liberty, that no Christian minds should be yoked 
with Christ's government, that all should enjoy 
free consciences ; that the Gospel is soft and 
mild, nor does it seek to reduce any by violence : 
they beg the same enlargement and scope for 
themselves, which they gladly allow to others.'J 

* Ite alacres, tantasque, precor, coofidite causae. 

t Papirius. 

X Se Evangelii libertatem praedicare, nullam Christianis 
animb vim inferre^suam cuique conscientiam liberamrelinquere, 
▼erbo ducere^ non vi quemquam adigere ; earn esse Evangelii 
doctrinam^ ut omnes conscientise fmantor libertate : sibique ut 
id liceat^ votis omnibus postulare.-— Ck)n. Monarch, p. 32. 



If Success waits upon his Enterprises^ he urges it to 

authenticate his Cause. 

There is no argument more popular than suc- 
cess, . because the bulk of men is not able to 
distinguish the permission of God from his ap- 
probation : and although it be in itself fallacious 
and feeble, yet the misery of the conquered 
denies them the opportunity to dispute it ; for 
the opposition of the sword will never be con- 
futed by the bare fist of logic. Nor doth the 
victor commonly permit any ventilation of his 
dictates; for when the body is a slave, why 
should the reason be free ?* As the soldiers in 
Plutarch wondered any would be so importu- 
nate to preach laws, and moral reasons, to men 
with swords by their sides ;'\ as if arms knew 
not how to descend to rational inquiries, but 
were enough justified by an odd kind of neces- 
sity of their own creating; like those iaLivy,J 
that all laws are engraved on the hilt of a vic- 
torious sword, to whose mandamus all other 
statutes must submit. 

* AtfAof wifvtiaqf « {Airtari crot Xoytt. In Pompejo. 

t Iq armis jus feire, et omnia foitium vironim esse. 


I have often considered with myself, what 
should move tyrants to print justifications of 
themselves, and assertions of their proceedings, 
which, I suppose, never made an understanding 
man a convert, nor met with a cordial reception 
in any, unless the abuse of a few, poor shallow 
believers, be thought a triumph worth their 
pains. I have sometimes thought, they do by 
these papers please themselves in their abilities 
to delude, and so gratify their tyranny over the 
noblest part of man, by denying the liberty of 
the thought, and subduing the powers of the 
soul to an implicit coherence with their own 
magisterial opinions. 

But our politician, by quoting the success of 
his undertakings, besides the plausibleness and 
insinuating nature of the proposition itself, hath 
the advantage of power to make us believe him. 

Nor is this bait contemptible ; many of parts 
and prudence, yea and of religion, have been 
staggered by it. Some question whether Dio- 
nysius deserved the brand of atheism, consider- 
ing the wild conceits they then had of their 
gods ; or differed from the common creed, cry- 
ing out, O how the Gods favour sacrilege ! when 
he had a merry gale after a sacrilegious attempt. 
The best of the Roman historians calls the vic- 
tory, the just arbitress of the cause: 'The event 
of the war, like an impartial judge, shall knit 


victory and right together :'* so hard is it to 
persuade mere reason, that virtue may be un- 
fortunate, and vice happy. 

He was no small poet, that argued himself 
out of his Gods, by seeing wickedness honoured, 
and worth slighted : which he expresses thus if 

Licinus does in marble sleep, 
A common urn does Cato keep, 
Pompey's ashes may catch cold ; 
That there are Gods, let dotards hold. 

There may be some use made of that in 
Seneca,^ ' Prosperous mischiefs are cardinal 
virtues in the world's ethics ;' and therefore the 
tragedian repeats it.^ The unwarrantableness 
is hid and concealed in the glory of the success ; 
we often praise the Macedonian conquest, but 
seldom mention their boundless and unjust am- 

On the contrary, if an undertaking really 
good miscarry, we censure it : so that accord- 
ing to the vogue of the world, it is the event 
that gives the colour to the action, and deno- 

* Eventus belli, velut squns Judex, unde jus stat, ei victo- 
riam dabit. 

t Marmoreo Licinus tumulo jacet, at Cato parvo, 
Pompeius nullo -, quis putet esse Decs ? 
X Honesta qusdam scelera successus facit. 
§ Prosperum ac felix scelus virtus vocatur. Here. Ftir. 


minates it good or bad. ' We adore the fortu- 
nate, and despise the conquered/^ 


There is some of this leaven in the judgments 
of most, notwithstanding those brighter disco* 
veries, in the noon of Christianity Aye live under. 
A Bible, thoroughly observed, would expound 
to us much of the riddle, and dark passages of 
Providence : we are so short sighted, that we 
cannot see beyond time ; we value things, and 
men. by their temporal prosperities, and tran- 
sient glories ; whereas if we put eternity into 
the other scale, it would much out-poise that 
worldly lustre, that so much abuses our eye, 
and cozens our understandings. 

I find not in holy writ, that God hath inse- 
parably annexed goodness and greatness, juiftice 
and victory: he hath secured his servants of 
the felicities of a better life, but not of this. 
Christ's kingdom was not, our happiness is not, 
of this world. 

Nor doth my Bible shew me any warrant for 
appeal to Heaven for the decision of this, or 
that intricacy : by bestowing success upon this 
party, or that cause, according to its righteous- 


ness, and due merit. There h a vast difference 
betwixt irix^H'* smd iiUniAOif even in Scripture 

The great Turk may justly exult and prune 
himself in discourses of this nature, if they be 
once admitted, and owned by Christians : and 
I shall forbear any longer to think Mahomet an 
impostor, and must receive the Alcoran for 
Gospel) if I shall be convinced, that temporal 
happiness and triumph are a true index of di- 
vine favour. Our religion hath something more 
to invite our closure with it ; it proposes a con- 
veniency on earth, but the crowns and garlands 
are reserved for Heaven. 

The money-god in Aristophanes,* pretends a 
command from Jupiter, to distribute as great a 
largess to the wicked, as the good ; because if 
Virtue should once impropriate riches, that fair 
godHess would be more wooed for her dowry, 
than for her native beauty : so if Religion were 
attended with those outward allurements that 
most take the senses ; we should be apt to fol- 
low Christ for the loaves, and overlook the spi- 
ritual charms, and more noble ends of Christi- 

The heathen could say,t ' Happy piracy is a 

* In nxifry. 

t FceHx pnedo^ mundo exemplum inutile. 


thing of unhappy presidency;' fortunate sins 
may prove dangerous temptations ; but to say^ 
that God doth signally attest the actions of such 
a person, or the justice of such a cause, by per- 
mitting it to prosper, and taper up in the world, 
is such a deceit, as deserves our serious abhor- 
rency — I leave it with Ovid's wish :* 

Let him for ever in success be poor. 
That thinks it justifies hb cause the more. 


The Politician must change with the Times. 

That alterations and revolutions in kingdoms 
are the rods with which God scourges miscar- 
rying princes, is resolved by my lord of Argen- 
ton : to which may be added out of Aristotle, 
in the fifth of his Politiquest — * That the ruins 
of a kingdom are often derived from ftaud and 
subtleties.' I shall omit an inquiry into other 
causes, as foreign to my present purpose. 

The politician knows best how to improve 
these popular gusts, because he caused them : 

* — Careat successibus opto, 

Quisquis ab eventu facta notanda putat. 
t Per fraudem ct dolum regna evertuntur. 


such a storm is his seed-time. It is the boast 
of a Dutchman, that he can sail with all winds : 
the aspiring man observes the quarter wheAce 
the Surest gales of preferment blow, and spreads 
the sails of his ambition to entertain them ; nor 
can the compass breathe more varieties, than 
his dexterous soul has changes, and garbs, and 
suitable compliances. , 

What the orator calls his top and perfection, 
to make happy application to the several hu- 
mours and genius of all sorts of men, qualifying 
his address with what he knows will most 
charm the person he treats ; that the politician 
does not only with his lip, but life : you may 
find all those figures and tropes digested into 
his actions, and made practical, that are in the 
other only vocal. 

He remembers that of an English marquis 
(Pawlet of Winchester*) who having success- 
fully served four princes, and still in the same 
room of favour, unshaken with the vicissitudes 
he had run through ; being asked by one, by 
what means he preserved his fortune ? he re- 
plies that he was made f of the pliant willow, 
not stubborn oak, always of the prevailing re- 
ligion, and a zealous professor. This easiness 
and bending is of absolute necessity ; for if the 
same temper, which insinuated in violent times, 

* Nanton*s Regatia. f Ex salice, iion ex quercu. 


were retained in a composed and settled go- 
vernment^ it would be altogether distasteful ; 
and so, on the contrary. 

Therefore, if religion be fashionable, you can 
scarcely distinguish him from a ^saint : he does 
not only reverence the holy ministers, but, if 
need be^ he can preach himself: if cunctation 
prevails, he acts Fabius : if the buckler must be 
changed for a sword, he personates Marcellus : 
if mildness be useful, Soderini of Venice was not 
more a lamb than he : if severities are requisite, 
Nero's butcheries are sanctities, compared with 
hi»: as Alcibiades, in Plutarch, shifted disposi- 
tion as he altered place (being voluptuous and 
jovial in Ionia, frugal and retired in Lacedae- 
mon) so he proportions himself to time, place, 
person, religion, with such a plausibleness, as 
if he had been bom only to serve that opinion, 
which he harboured but as a guest, while it 
continued in sway : having a room in his heart, 
if occasion be, to lodge the contrary, and to cry 
it up with as much ardour, as he once used to 
extol the former. And thus, like a subtle Pro- 
teus, he assumes that shape that is most in 
grace, and of most profitable conducement to 
his ends. All his consultations turn upon the 

hinge of self-interest.* 


* Id eo stant consilia, quod sibi conducere putat. 


He abounds in that which Varro callsf a 
voluble wit, like the changeling derived by 
Plautus, as more turning than a potter's wheel. 

He hath this advantage of the camelion, that 
he can assume whiteness ; for I find him often 
wearing the vest of innocency, to conceal the 
ugliness and blackness of his attempts. 

Finally, he is the heliotrope to the sun of 
honour, and hath long since abjured his Grpd, 
religion, conscience, and all that shall interpose, 
and screen him firom tho^e beams, that may 
ripen his wishes and aims into enjoyments. 


But the true statesman is inviolably constant 
to his principles of virtue and religious pru- 
dence ; his ends are noble, and the means he 
uses, innocent: he hath a single eye on the 
public good ; and, if the ship of the state mis- 
carry, he had rather perish in the wreck, than 
preserve himself upon the plank of an inglorious 
subterfuge. His worth hath led him to the 
helm ; the rudder he uses is an honest and vi- 
gorous wisdom; the star he looks to for direc- 
tion is in Heaven ; and the port he aims at is the 
joint welfare of prince and people. 

This constancy is that solid rock upon which 

* Versatile iogenium -, rota figulari Tersatilion 



the wise Venetian hath built its long-lived 
republic : so that it is ' not improbable the 
maiden queen borrowed her motto of Semper 
eadem from this maiden commonwealth. 

It is true, something is to be conceded to the 
place, and time, and person ; and I grant that 
there are many innocent compliances. Virgil's 
Obliquare sinus, is observable, there may be a 
bending without a crookedness : we may cir- 
cumire, and yet not aberrare ; Paul became a 
Jew, that he might gain the Jews, but he did 
not become a sinner, that he might gain sin- 
ners ; he was made all things to all men, but he 
was not made sin to any : that is, his conde- 
scensions were such, as did well consist with 
his Christian integrity. 

Greatness, and honours, and riches, and 
sceptres, those glorious temptations that so 
much enamour the doting world, are too poor 
shrines for such a sacrifice as conscience, which 
the politician hath so much abused by an inve- 
terate neglect, that it is become menstruous, 




If the Politician find reason to impose Oaths, let them be 
of such ambiguity t as may furnish with a sense obliging 
to the design, and yet so soft, as the people may not feel 
the snare. 

It appears, by sad experience, that in pro- 
pounding of oaths, requiring promises, and 
other solemn ties, there have been multitudes 
induced to bind themselves upon some secret, 
loose, and mental reservation ; which they have 
framed to themselves as z.salvo in case of breach: 
so apt ¥re are, in affairs of greatest importance, 
to advise more v\rith corrupt wit, than sound 

In the catalogue of self-delusions, you may 
possibly find these : 

1 . We are ready to interpret the words too 
kindly, especially if they be ambiguous; and it 
is hard to find terms so positive, but that they 
may be eluded indeed, or seem to us to be so, 
if we be disposed. 

2. Some are invited to illicit promises, quia 
illicit, because they know them to be invalid. 

3. Some are frightened into these bonds, by 
threats, and losses, and temporal concernments, 
and then they please themselves that they swear 
by duress, and so are disengaged. 



4. Some are oath-proof; I mean, there are 
such sear-souled men, as will swear /?ro and con. 

5. Some have learned from the civilians, that 
though we swear to a thing not materially un- 
lawful, yet, if it impedes a greater moral good, 
it becomes void.* 

6. Some take liberty to swear, because they 
judge the person to whom they swear incapable 
of an oath : as Cicero defends the breach of 
oath to a thief, from perjury ; and Brutus, to a 
tyrant : as it is in Appian,t ' The Romans esteem 
it an honest perjury, to violate their faith with 

The first sort of these falls most properly 
under the notice and practice of our politician ; 
though he may also use the last, but at different 

It is not difficult for him to cast his desire 
into such soft glib expression, as will down with 
most : yea, with many that would absolutely 
disavow the same thing in rough language. If 
he be unskilled in this black art, I commend 
him to the pedagogy of the Delphic devil. 

Now it is most certain, there is no other tie 
of such security, and establishment, to a person 
that hath ravished greatness, and acquired it by 

* Grot, de jur. belli, 245. 



violence. Usurpation hath only these two pil- 
lars, its own arms and militia, and public oath 
and acknowledgment ; and it is scarce worth 
query, whether, when the gross of a nation is 
thus bound, the oath be not as valid, and the 
conscience as much concerned, as if it had been 
sworn to a lawful prince. It is reasonable, that 
an usurping power cannot, upon any prudent 
persuasion, have the same confidence in the love 
of the people that a just one hath : nor is the 
following government enticing, as Tacitus notes^ 
* Never any kingdom, badly acquired, was well 
administered.'* The same with Cuazzo, where 
one, objecting the vices of princes, receives 
this answer, ' Therefore they were not natural 
princes, but violent usurpers, and so more be- 
holding to the fear than love of their subjects.'! 
And therefore if the politician can, by the 
blessed means fore-mentioned, gain a superi- 
ority, there is no trusting to those ingenious 
guards, his own goodness, and the love of 
others : his best defence is awe, and fear, and 
scaffold, and gibbet, and the like. For he that 
hath no voluntary room in the hearts of his peo- 
ple, must use all means to gain a coercive. 

* Nee quisquam imperium mails artibus quxsitum ben^ ad- 

t Perch^ non erano principi per natura, ma per violenza ; 
ed erano piik temuti cbe amati. De crril. convers. 1. 2. p. 132. 


For his own promises, he puts them into the 
same bottomless bag, which, the poets say, 
Jupiter made for lovers' asseverations: his 
word is as good as his oath ; for they are both 
trifles, as it is in Plautus. 

A bargain shall no bargain be. 
If I can no advantage see ; 
A bargain shall a bargain be. 
If it with my designs agree.* 

It was he that first invented that useful dis- 
tinction of a lip-oath, and a heart-oath ; you 
may find him in Euripides. 

I with my tongue can swear. 
And with my heart forbear.f 

He makes good use of that in Plutarch, that 
children are to be cozened with rattles, and 
men with oaths. ;]: 

It is an huge advantage, that man hath in a 
credulous world, that can easily say and swear 
to any thing ; and yet, withal, so palliate his 
falsifications and perjuries, as to hide them from 
the cognizance of most ; the politician must be 
furnished witU handsome refuges, that may 

* Pactum noD pactum est^ non pactum pactum est, cum illis 
lubet. Aulular. 

t Jurats lingua est, mentc juravi nihil. 

S^MOK. Apopb. 

T 4 


seemingly heal miscarriages this way. He need 
not spend much time in inquiry after such 
helps; these declining ages will abundantly 
furnish his invention. 


An oath is, in itself, a religious affirmation, a 
promise with God's seal ; and therefore it con- 
cerns Christians to be cautelous before swear- 
ing, to swear liquidly, and to observe conscion- 
ably. It is a pity such slender evasions should 
satisfy us, as have been scorned by heathens. 
We are bound (says one of them) to the sense 
of the imposer, or else we do ^iviofxiTu ; we are 
bound to the performance of what we have thus 
sworn, or else we do iinofxiTv : it is much, that a 
moral conscience should more check them, than 
a clearer light can awe us : as if they more 
honoured the genius of k Caesar, than we re- 
verence the presence of a God: or else we 
should never engage in new protestations that 
do infer, yea, and sometimes positively quarrel 
with old. They had their Sm IwU^xm, their 
perjury-revenging Gods, to whose vindictive 
power they referred their offenders: they 
punished such as swore falsely by their prince 
with fustigation; but such as abused their 
Gods, were left to the dispose of their injured 
deities, as if they were at a loss how to find a 


punishment equal to their sin. Hear how so- 
berly Plato mentions (out of the noble com- 
mentator upon Philostratus), * It is wisely or- 
dained, that the names of the Gods should not 
be used upon trifling occasions, for fear of pol- 
luting them; for the majesty of the Grods should 
not be employed, but in holy and venerable 
purity.'* See what real honour they gave to 
their counterfeit Gods ; let us have a care, that 
we ascribe not counterfeit honour to the true 

Our God hates every false oath : it appears 
in his severity to Zedekiah, for breaking cove- 
nant with the Babylonian monarchy, though a 
tyrant of the first magnitude.! 

Were all subjects duly solicitous about the 
weight of this bond, we should be less prone to 
take, and more studious to observe it; I re- 
member the scholiast upon Aristophanes, de- 
rives S^xof, irufi TO nfyu, ro SuyxXfi», oSiy x«i ro 

S^xof^ Sri tigvu rov ifxifiki¥ov. * It hedges in, and 
shuts up a man, and ties his hands behind him.' 
I know not how some conquerors may cut this 
knot with the sword, or how some Sampsons 

* En toutes manieres c*est un fort belle ordinance et insti- 
tution, de n* user point du nom des Dieux legerement, de peur 
de les contaminer : car la pajest^ des Dieux ne se doit im- 
ployer, qu* en un saincte et venerable puret^. 

t Casaubon exercitat. 202. 


may shake off these cords, or what gaps the 
licentious may make in this hedge ; but such as 
value God, or heaven, or prince, or peace, can 
discover it no way better than in a sincere use 
of so divine an ordinance. 

There can be no certain rule given, when to 
believe, and when not, what such as are, or 
would be great, please to inculcate to us. I 
find more wrecks upon the rock of credulity : 
and it is no heresy to affirm, that many have 
been saved by their infidelity. I conmiend that 
of Epicharmus, 


Necessity of a State is a very competent Apology for the 

worst of actions. 

It has been observed, that in all innovations 
and rebellions (which ordinarily have their rise 
from pretences of religion, or reformation, or 
both,) the breach and neglect of laws have been 
authorized by that great patroness of illegal 
actions — necessity.* 

* £x^^ tfMiyftii Ssva necessitas. 


Now the politician is never without such an 
advocate as this ; for he cares not to distinguish^ 
whether the necessity be of his own creating or 
no, as for the most part it is, being indeed an 
appendix to the wrong he undertakes, and sig- 
nifies no more than that he is cpmpelled to 
cover wrong with wrong, as if the commission 
of a second sin were enough to justify the first. 

He changes that old charitable advice : Be- 
nefacta benefactis aliis pertegito ne perpluant ; into 
vitia vitiis aliis pertegito ne perpluant: that so, 
heaping one crime upon another, the latter may 
defend the former from the stroke of justice. 

He adores the maxim in Livy : * That war 
must needs be just that is necessary, and those 
arms pious that are all our livelihood.'* It were 
very incongruous to desire that man to leave his 
crutch, that cannot walk without ; it is no less 
unnatural to invite him to quit his sword, whose 
life and fortune lean entirely upon it. 

If he can insinuate the scope of the war to be 
legal, a little daubing will serve to legalize the 
circumstances : that of the civilians must be re- 
membered : ' Nothing is unlawfiil in war, that 
serves the end and design of it ff the oracles of 

* Justom est bellum cpiibus necessarium^ et pia anna quibus 
in armis spcs est. 

t Lioere in bello quae ad finem sunt necessaiia. Victor, de 
jurebeUi, n. 18. 39. 


the gown are too tender for swordmen ; and it 
may be, he had wit in his anger, who affirmed, 
that martial law was as great a solecism, as 
martial peace. 

If the people be once possessed that his aim 
and intention is fair, they will never expect that 
the media for attainment of his end should be 
retrenched by the strict boundaries of law : he 
manages that rule very practically : * I may in- 
vade any thing of any man's that threatens cer- 
tain danger to me, if I suffer him to enjoy it/* 
Now he can very plausibly make this periadum, 
cerium, or incertum, as shall best suit with his 

It is a broad liberty that Grotius concedes : 
' If I have no other way to assure my life, I may 
by any means repel any power that assaults it, 
though just: self-defence being a clear dictate 
of nature.'t When life, and liberty, and safety 
come in question, there ought no consideration 
to be had of just or unjust, pitiful or cruel, 
honourable or dishonourable. 

Now when the people have, according to his 

* Rem alienam, ex qa& certum mihi periculam eminet^ citra 
culpae alienae considerationem invadere possum. 

t Qaare si vitam aliter servare non possimi, licet mihi vi 
qualicunque arcere eum qui eam impetit, licet peccato vacet; et 
hoc ex jure^ quod mihi pro me natura concedit. S. de Jure 
Belli, p. 424. Mach. on Livy, 627. 


desire, got over the great obstacle, and digested 
the plot for pious, it is easy to set all future 
proceeding upon the score of liberty, safety, 
religion : and, if he be constrained to use means 
grossly unlawful, it is but to make them seem 
holy in the application, and all is well. For it 
is the humour and genius of the vulgar, when 
they have once rushed into a party implicitly, 
to prosecute it as desperately as if they were 
under demonstrative convictions of its justice. 
Finally, He must make a virtue of necessity, 
because there is no other virtue which will so 
easily be induced to serve his proceedings as 
this ; she may well smile upon licentiousness, 
who hath herself no law. 


Let that great rule be received, that no man 
can be necessitated to sin : our divines generally 
damn an officious lie ; and the equity binds from 
any officious sin. 

It would soon cut the nerves of the eighth 
commandment, if necessities and urgencies, 
though real, were pronounced a sufficient ex- 
cuse for stealing. But that which our politician 
calls necessity, is no more than necessity of 
convenience, nor so much, except we interpret 
that convenience, which may favour his own 
ends, and so is convenient for his design. He 


uses necessity as the old philosophers did an 
occult quality, though to a different purpose ; 
that was their refuge for ignorance, this is his 
sanctuary for sin. 

Those civilians* that are most charitable to 
necessity, make it no plea at all, except it be 
absolute and insuperable ; as, by the Platonic 
laws, only those persons are allowed to drink at 
their neighbour's well, that had in vain sought 
a spring, by digging fifty cubits deep in their 
own ground. We allow the disburdening of a 
ship, in imminent peril of wreck ; but this will 
not excuse those, who, upon a fond or feigned 
prseyision of a state-tempest, shall immediately 
cast law and conscience overboard; discard 
and quit rudder and steerage, and so assist the 
danger they pretend to fear. 

Pausaniast tells of a chapel in Acrocorinth, 
dedicated to Necessity and Violence; those 
tvidn-goddesses may be fit objects for the wor- 
ship of heathens ; but it is a pity they should 
be so much adored by Christians. 

If I mistake not, the fundamental deceit lies 
in a greedy entertaining those first pretences, 
and seemingly candid propositions, that are 
made to us, before they have passed those 

* Less. 1. ii. c. 12. dub. 12. un. 17. 
t C«l. Rhodig. 1025. 


scrutinies and severe inquiries they deserve ; or 
been examined by the test of God's word, and 
national laws : all the rest are but ugly conse- 
quences of that absurdity we first granted ; ac- 
cording to the ancient philosophic maxim, 'Eyot 


The Politician must wave all Relations, both sacred and 
civil, and swim to his design, though in a Sea of Blood. 

Such as study to be great by any means, must 
by all means forget to be good ; and they that 
will usurp dominion over others, must first be- 
come slaves to the worst of tyrants, a lust after 

Crescit interea Roma Alba minis, begins one 
of the Decads ; that the walls of Rome were 
cemented with blood, is known and commended 
by Machiavel;^ although the superstructure 
was brave, yet, if we search the foundation, we 
shall find it laid in the red ruins of her wasted 
neighbours; that the first founder became a 

* Upon Liv. 1. 2. c. 3. Thebe maritum^ Timoleon fratrem, 
Casiius filiom, hoc jure inteifecfire. 


fratricide upon reason of state, to guard his new 
conquest by freedom from a competitor, is not 
only vindicated from cruelty, but asserted to 
be a piece of meritorious policy. Nor did this 
happen to the city in its structure alone, but 
after, in its reparation ; when the sons of Brutus 
were sacrificed to the design of their father : so 
that Rome was not only nursed with blood, 
but after growth and ripeness, she sustained 
herself, lived and thrived upon Magna et san- 
guinoknta latrocinia; so that our politician can 
scarce want examples in the applauded actions 
of this city, to patronize the most crimson and 
scarlet sin, that ambition can prompt. 

He admires the generosity of Nero's mother, 
who is reported to have said of her son : ' Let 
my son be my murderer, so he may be a mo- 
narch.'* According to the advice of an high 
spirited fury, * an empire cannot be purchased 
too dear, though it cost the blood of millions.'! 

He is much taken with the gallantry of the 
Mamelukes, who abused the easiness of the 
Egyptian sultan, and wore the supremacy three 
hundred years, upon the length and keenness 
of an usurping sword. 

And rather than want a bongrace, he com- 

t Fro regno velim patriam, penates^ coDJugem flammig dare^ 
imperia pretio quolibet constant henh. 


mends the Ottoman wisdom; for the great 
Turk rivets himself to the imperial chair, with 
the bones of his murdered brethren. Aspiring 
desires are not only insatiate, but admit of any 
sin, that will promote their ends : see Bassianus 
murdering his brother Gota in his mother's 
arms ; Andronicus strangling his cousin Alexius, 
lest he should have a part in the empire that 
had right to all ; see Caesar slighting the oaths 
by which he had obliged his obedience to the 
Roman senate. 

Finally, Ambition knows no confinement, 
nothing so sacred but it violates. The Gods 
must bow and yield to it ; as TertuUian — * It is 
impossible to be ambitious without injury to 
the Gods ; temples themselves are not exempted 
from the fury of the war ; the sacrileges of the 
Romans were as numerous as their trophies, yet 
the Gods followed their triumphant chariots.'* 


The Italian politician seems to intimate a 
scruple, when he says : Si jus violatidum est, 
regnandi causa violandum est. His (if) dictates 
an uncertainty ; and if we appeal to the bar of 
nature, or divinity, (though possibly the entire 

* Id negotium sine Deorum injurid non est, eadem strages 
moenium et templorum ; tot sacrilegia Romanorum, quot tro- 
phaea $ tot de Diis quot de gentibus triumphi. 


assertion may have something of truth) yet we 
shall find that wicked (if) absolutely banished. 

It is true, we may more justly pity him that 
swallows a bait fair and glistering, than a per- 
son that tempts temptations to deceive him, or 
catches at flies, and trifling allurements ; be- 
cause in the first case a greater reluctancy is 
requisite, and the dart may possibly be so 
sharp, as to pierce through the armour of a 
sober resolution ; but all this will little succour 
him, who knows it to be a bait, and hath be- 
forehand designed its beauty and fairness, to 
apologize for the foulness of the sin : for here 
the greatness of the temptation will not at all 
extenuate the grossness of the crime : no more 
than he mitigates his robbery, who shall plead, 
that he stole nothing but gold and jewels. 

The world is much mistaken in the value of a 
sceptre or a crown ; we gaze upon its bright- 
ness, and forget its brittleness ; we look upon 
its glory, and forget its frailty ; we respect its 
colour, and take no notice of its weight. But 
if all those gay things which we fondly fiamcy to 
ourselves are really to be found in greatness, 
yet still he pays too dear, that pawns his heaven 
for it ; he that thus buys a short bliss, gives 
not twenty, or an hundred years purchase, but 
(if mercy prevent not) eternity. 

It will be little advantage here, to introduce 


the example of a Roman, or Turk, or Christian, 
if unlawful; such precedents may perchance 
baffle the vulgar (in whose creed you may insert 
what you please,) but vrill be very cold answers, 
when we appear before a severe tribunal : it 
concerns us rather to observe, how ambition 
claims kindred with every other vice, stoops 
and takes up every sin that lies in its way ; and, 
if upon inquiry we find it to be indeed such a 
complicated mischief, it will become us studi- 
ously to shun it ourselves, and seriously to de- 
test it in others. 


A general Innovatiofi contributes much to the Growth and 

Security of Usurpation. 

We may receive this as a tradition, handed to 
us from the great patriarchs of policy, attested 
by the practice of the subtilest times; I pre- 
sume it may be grounded upon these, or the 
like persuasions. 

1. Because such an innovation raises the 
dust, and begets a cloud for the main design ; 



for when the waters are troubled, it is hard to 
see the bait. 

2. Because the parenthesis betwixt an old 
and new government flatters the hopes of all 
parties, soothing those desires that are for a re- 
lapse into the old, and yet encouraging those 
that wish for the establishment of a new. 

3. Because, when all things are reduced into 
a chaos and rude heap, when all the lines and 
lineaments of the former government are blotted 
out, that which is new written will be more 
legible, and the old sooner forgotten : for sup- 
pose a kingdom made a lump, without shape 
and void, and it is, like materia primay prone to 
embrace any form ; when an instrument is dis- 
tuned, you may set it to what key you please ; 
and he that cannot sometimes loosen the strings, 
will never make good music upon Synesius's 

4. Because, by new moulding of jurisdic- 
tions, and offices of state, there may be a fair 
opportunity offered, of gratifyifag those that 
have served us ; and for others, it is very fami- 
liar to see some stubborn and rigid opiniators, 
who have continued long unshaken, either by 
threat or argument, at length to surrender their 
principles, and bow the knee before the dagon 
of honour and riches ; such is the flexanimous 


power of golden eloquence, as it is in the 

The two great pillars which the mind uphold. 
Not being mammon-proof, do bow to gold.* 

Besides, we can find no better way to breed 
an absolute dependence, and make others ad- 
here to our fortunes, than by winding the con- 
cernments of other men upon the same bottom 
with our interest ; we may observe this from 
the practice of great favourites, who always 
delight in these props, and are careful to set 
their whole tribes in the sunshine of favour. 

5. Because such a general deordination gives 
a taste and relish to the succeeding government, 
though in itself not so delectable ; for Aristotle 
notes, that democracy is better than anarchy .f 

There are many other advantages to be made 
by a due improvement of those turbid intervals ; 
as the occasion of subdividing, and parcelling 
out your great end ; for, by this means, they 
which refused to close with it in gross, will re- 
ceive it in retail : and having entertained some 
portions of it, the grudge they bore to the 
whole, will be by degrees quieted and ap- 

Besides, when all things are ruffled and con- 
fused, it is then the devil's holiday, and there- 

u 3 


fore our workday ; the noise is so loud, that it 
drowns the voice of the law ; and there may be 
some truth in his waggery, who said. That such 
as mean to commit rape upon the body politic, 
must put out the laws ; as others upon a like 
occasion use to put out the lights. 

Finally, if we ever hope to sin with impunity, 
to usurp prosperously, or to govern arbitrarily ; 
we must take out that lesson in Plautus : 

If my own affairs require, 
I can set the state on fire. 
Let the mined kingdom bleed. 
So my private ends may speed ; 
I can dance in such a storm, 
*Tis a new way to reform.* 


It is most certain, that sinister ends are pro- 
moted by innovations ; but it lies in our bosoms 
to promote or quench the innovations them- 
selves : which we can no way better do, than 
by a strict adherence to the laws ; for as long 
as we maintain them, they will maintain us : if 
we observe these, it will rescue us from the 
hands of state novelists ; for we are not fit for 
their turns, till we are cross biassed with &C' 

* Idem facere^ quod plurimi alii, quibus res timida aut tur- 
bida est 5 pergunt turbare usque^ ut ne quid possit oonquies- 



As a caution against changes in government, 
give me leave to repeat, what was long since 
told us by an ingenious lord :* That all great 
mutations are dangerous ; even where what is 
introduced by that mutation, is such as would 
have been very profitable upon a primary found- 
ation : and it is none of the least dangers of 
change, that all the perils and inconveniences 
which it brings cannot be foreseen ; and there- 
fore such as make title to wisdom, will not 
undergo great dangers, but for great necessities. 

But, further, let me appeal to general expe- 
rience; yea, let me ask thee, reader, if thou 
hast never before heard, or read of a nation, 
that was once the gaze and envy of its neigh- 
bours ; and yet being insensible of its happi- 
ness, or possessed with fond hopes of bettering 
its condition, has closed with pretended friends 
and real enemies, and gladly contributed to its 
own ruin. 

So apt are men to catch at the shadow, 
though they hazard the substance; we may 
guess at the moral of the frogs in the fable, who 
could find no satisfaction in a still prince, and 
were after forced to abide the severities of a 
tyrant they prayed for. 

But if there be such distempers in a state, as 
shall necessarily require amendment, let it be 

* Faulkland. 



done with the pruning-hook of the law, and not 
with the sword of violence ; for I never read, 
that illegal, or tumultuous, or rebellious, were 
fit epithets for reformation. And it is fit Chris- 
tians should forbear the use of such surly 
physic, till they have levied a fine in the court 
of heaven, and out of the intail of the seventh 

This may suffice to reveal, in some measure, 
arcanum ambitionis.* I could add much more, 
but that I judge it a fitter task for our nephews, 
when pens shall be enfranchised. 

And now, reader, let us mix our prayers, that 
God would for ever banish this cursed policy 
out of Europe, and the whole Christian world ; 
and damn it down to hell, from whence origi- 
nally it came: and let such as delight to 
abuse others, think of that self-cozenage, with 
which in the interim they abuse themselves; 
God permitting the devil to revenge the impos- 
tor. And whilst we are busy with politic stra- 
tagems, and tortuous arms to invade the rights 
of others ; let us all consider, that this is not 
the violence which takes heaven. 

Let it be a piece of our daily oraisons, that 

God would guard our pulpits from such boute- 

feusy as, like -3Etna and Vesuvius, belched out 

nothing but flames and fiery discourses, using 


the Scripture as preposterously and imperti- 
nently, as some pontificians, who, transported 
with the vehemence of Hildebrandian zeal, 
think the temporal monarchy of popes suflBci- 
ently Scriptural, from the saying of Christ to 
Peter.* Far be it from us to entitle the Spirit 
of God to exorbitant doctrine : it is easy to dis- 
tinguish the vulture from the dove. The mis- 
carriages of the clergy have a deeper stain from 
the sacredness of their function ; as probably he, 
that invenomed the Eucharist, has the more to 
answer for his triple crown. 

It is manifest, that we are fallen into the 
dregs of time ; we live in the rust of the iron 
age, and must accordingly expect to feelf the 
dotages of a decrepid world. What is become of 
truth, sincerity, charity, humility, those antiqui 
moresy whither are they gone ? Did they attend 
Astraea into heaven, and have left such degene- 
rate successors, as cruelty, pride, fraud, envy, 
oppression, &c. ; such qualities as abundantly 
justify the worst of heathens, and dishonour the 
name of Christians ? I think it may safely be 
affirmed, that if a new Europa speculum were 
sincerely written, it might be contracted into 
this short summary : 

I know the various humours of our times ; 
He that is wicked, now inflames his crimes 

* Pasce eves. t Ultima senescentis mundi deliria. 


By making proselytes to hell ; and he 

Joys in it, that he may have company 

In rapines, murders, thefts ; now none can have 

His own, except he be, like diem, a knave. 

The Church is stripp'd by sacrilegious hands. 

They that divided all, divide the lands.* 

Hiulca gens, &c. 

Wolves are of late tum'd shepherds, surely we. 
That have such guardians, are extremely free. 

That eternal Majesty, which raised so brave a 
fabric out of such indisposed materials ; that 
wields the world with his finger ever since it 
was made; that controuls the waves, and 
checks the tumult of the people ; that sits 
above, and laughs at the malignant counsels 
and devices of wicked men : let his mercy be 
implored for the speedy succour of his dis- 
tressed Church; that the rod of Aaron may 
blossom ; that the tabernacle of David may be 
raised ; that the subtle may be caught in their 
own snare ; and that the result of all afflictions 
may be the greatening of his glory, and exalt- 
ing of his sceptre. 

* NoyI ego hoc seculum quibus moribus sit ', nudus boouin 
malum esse vult, ut sit sui similis ; turbant, miscent mores mali ; 
rapax, avarus, invidus, sacrum prophanum, publicum privatum 
















John (Cosin), Lord Bishop of Durham ; 

William (Lucy), Lord Bishop of St. David's ; 

Benjamin (Laney), Lord Bishop of Peterborough ; 

Hugh (Lloyd), Lord Bishop of Landaff ; 

Richard (Stern), Lord Bishop of Carlisle ; 

Brian (Walton), Lord Bishop of Chester ; and 

John (Gauden), Lord Bishop of Exeter. 

































L. MQ. D. D. CQ. 



• Ne US quideni omiasu, quae, pne fiigm temporis, vira vox exequi non potuit. 


*THrtf x^' MtriXurop at If K^irii, ha ra Xtiwnra Iviho^'^iffn, xal 
xarariimi »alm iroXiy ^r^tapyri^Bft v^ lytt act hara^eifA'nw. 


Tor this Cause left I thee in CMe^ thai thou shouldest set in 
order the things that are xvanting^ and ordain Elders in every dty^ 
as I had appointed thee* — Titus i. 5. 

This epistie is one of the three, not unfitly styled 
the hierarchical epistles, de Hatu eccksiastico cam* 
posita, as TertuUian* speaks: being so many 
rescripts apostolical to Timothy and Titus, (thfe 
One desired by St. Paul to stay at Ephesus, Pri* 
mate of Asia; the other left in Crete, Metropo- 
litan of that,t and the neighbour islands;) direct-, 
ing them, J how they ought to behave themselves 
in the house of God, which is the church of the 
Hving God. True and genuine decretal epistles; 

* Adv. MarcioD. 1. 5. in fine. 

t Vide S. Hieron. in Catalog. Script. Eccles. 

X 1 Tim. iii. 15. 



not like that counterfeit ware, which Isidore Mer- 
cator,* under venerable names^ hath had the hardi- 
ness to obtrude upon the world ; but of the right 
stamp and alloy; and sudi,as St. Augustine saith^ 
t a bishop ought always to carry in his hand, and 
to have before his eyes. 

The verse I have read to you, following imme- 
diately upon the salutation, begins the body of 
the epistle itself; and, like an ingenious and well- 
contrived perspective, gives us, from the very 
front, a fair prospect into the contents of the 
whole. It is, as it were, a kind of magical glass; 
in which the man not blind with ignorance, nor 
bleared with passion, may see distinctly the face 
of the primitive church, in that golden age of the 
Apostles ; the platform of her government ; the 
beautiful order of her hierarchy; the original, 
and derivation of her chief officers,, and their 
subordination both to one another, and to Christ,, 
the great Bishop of our souls,;}; in the last resort; 
together with the manage and direction of the 
most important acts of the government, both in 
point of ordination and jurisdiction too. For here 
we havellfftf^uTfpitc )ca1« iroXi», elders,, that is,bishopSy 
(as shall be showed in due time) disposed of city 
}>y city, in every city one ; these bishops both 

* Vide D. BlondeUi Pseudo Isidor. 
f De Doct. Christian. 1. 4. c. 16. 
X 1 Pet. ii. 25. 


6rdained and ordered, constituted and corrected, 
created and governed by Titus alone ; and so he,, 
in right of the premises, no other than ♦metro- 
politan, or archbishop there; the angel, or the 
arch-angel rather, of the whole church of Crete. 
If you ask, who fixed him the intelligence of so 
large an orbe? it was Paul himself, (you have 
that too in the text,) For this cause left I thee in 
Crete. If yet higher, your curiosity will needs 
see the derivation of St. Paul's power too ; he 
opens his commission, verse 1 , and spreads it be- 
fore you, styling himself a servant of God, and 
an Apostle of Jesus Christ : one sent abroad inta 
the world by his commission, acted, and assisted 
by his Spirit, to plant, and to govern churches 
after this scheme, and model. So that my text, 
like Homer s fsymbolical chain, consists, you 
see, of many links ; but the highest is tied to the 
foot of Jupiter's throne : or rather, like Jacob's 
mysterious ladder, the foot of it stands below in 
Bethel, the house of God, :{;*H i\ xc^ax^ iU tov i^ayoy^ 
the head of it is in Heaven, and God himself 
stands at the top of it, and leans § upon it, and 
keeps it firm; angels ascending and descending 
upon it in the intermediate degrees ; the bishops 

* Vide Reverend. Armachan. de Oiig. Metropolis, p. 71> 72. 


X Gen. xviii. 12. Versic. Lxx. 

\ lb. T. 13. Vulg. £t Dominum innixum scalas. Lxx. 'Eirirv- 

f ixTo iir' «vni(. 



of the church, like those Messed ministermg^ 
spirits, incessantly bringing down the commands^ 
of God to the church in their doctrine, and carry- 
ing up the prayers of the church before God'» 
throne, in their holy offices and intercessions. 
So that, you see, this holy oil,* which without 
measure was shed upon the head of our great 
High Priest,! (all power being given to Him, both 
in heaven and earth,) runs down in full stream 
upon the beard, (for, JAs my Father sent me, 
saith he to his disciples, even so send I you ;) and 
90 by, and through them, to their successors, holy 
iHshops and presbyters, even down to the skirts 
of bis garment : for in this comely and exquisite 
order we find it in my text — For this came I 
(Paul, an Apostle of Jesus Christ,) left thee 
(Titus) in Crete, that thou shouldest set in order 
(or, correct,) the things that are wanting, and ordain 
elders in every city, as I had appointed thee. 

In which words we have these three parts : — 
First. The erection of a power in the person 
of Titus, a metropolitical power over the whole 
island of Crete j / left thee in Crete. 

Secondly. The end of this institution, of the 
use and exercise of this power, in a double in-^ 
stance, imiio^Viv, xai xoc^ifcivcn, to Order, and to or- 
dain; to correct and constitute; to make bishops,. 

* Psm. cxxxiii. 2. f Matt, xxviii. 18. 

t John, XX. 21. 


itnd govern them, ♦Kp«Vk xa* ;^fipoTowa, as the 
Greek Scholia have it : * For this cause — that thou 
shouldest set in order what was wanting, and 
ordain elders in every city.' 

Thirdly. The limitation of all to apostolical pre^ 
script and direction ; both ordination and juris- 
diction too, the whole office must be managed, *n^ 
iyu <ro» Juraga/Auv,' as I had appointed thee. These 
are the parts. 

Of which that 1 may so speak, and you so hear, 
and all of us so remember, and so practise, 
that God's holy Name may be glorified, and 
we all built up in the knowledge of that truth, 
which is according unto Godliness ; we beseech 
God the Father, in the Name of his Son Jesus 
Christ, to give us the assistance of his Holy 

And in these, and all other our supplications, 
let us always remember to pray for Christ's holy 
Catholic Church, i. e. for the whole congregation 
of Christian people, dispersed through the whole 
world ; that it would please Almighty God to 
purge out of it all schism, error and heresy, and to 
unite all Christians in one holy bond of faith and 
charity ; that so at length the happy day may 
draw upon us, in which all that do confess his 
Holy Name, may agree in the truth of his Holy 
word, and live in unity and Godly love. More 

* Theopbyl. in Hypoth. 



^especially let us pray for the churches of Eng- 
land, Scotland, and Ireland: that the God of 
Peace, who maketh men to be of one mind in a 
house, would make us all of one soul, and of one 
ispirit, that again we may meet together, and 
praise Him with one heart and mouth, and wor* 
«hip Him with one accord in the beauty of holi^ 
ness. To this end, I am to require you most 
especially to pray for the King's Most Excellent 
Majesty, our Sovereign Lord Charles, by the Grace 
of God, King of England, Scotland, France and 
Ireland, Defender of the Faith, and Supreme 
Governor of these his realms, and in all other bis 
dominions and countries, over all persons, in all 
<;auses, as well ecclesiastical as temporal : That 
God would establish his throne in righteousness, 
and his seed to all generations. Also for our 
gracious Lady Mary the Queen- Mother ; for the 
most illustrious Prince James, Duke of York; and 
for the whole Royal Family: that God would 
take them all into his care, and make them the 
instruments of his glory, and the good and wel- 
fare of these nations. Further, let us pray for the 
Ministers of God's Holy Word and Sacraments, 
as well Archbishops and Bishops, as other Pastors 
and Curates; for the Lords and others of his 
Majesty's most honourable Council ; and for all 
the Nobility and Magistrates of the realm : That 
all and every of these, in their several callings, 
may serve truly and painfully to the glory of Grod, 
and the edifying, and the well governing of his 


people, remembering the account that they^ must 
make. Let us also pray for the Universities of 
this land, Cambridge and Oxford : That God 
would water them with his grace, and still con- 
tinue them the nurseries of religion and learning 
to the whole land. Let us pray for the whole 
Commons of this realm: That remembering at 
last from whence they are fallen, they may re- 
pent, and dp the first works, living henceforth in 
faith and fear of God, in humble obedience to 
their King, and in brotherly charity one to ano- 
ther. Finally, let us praise God for all those that 
are already departed out of this life in the faith of 
.Christ, and pray unto God we may have grace to 
direct our lives after their good examples ; that, 
this life ended, we may be made partakers with 
them of the glorious resurrection in the life ever-, 
lasting. For which, and for all other needful 
blessings, let us say together the Prayer of our 
Lord, who hath taught us to say. Our Father, &c. 

For this Cause I left thee in Crete, &c. 

The erecting of the power, that is the first ; / 
kft thee in Crete. Where we have these parti- 
culars: The original of this power, in Ego; the 
subject of it, in 7e, Ego Te; the conveyance in 
Ego reliqui; and the extent, in Reliqui Cretce, 
or in Creta. 

h I left thee ; /, the Apostle of Jesus Christ, (ver. 
1.) left thee mine: There is the source, and the 
stream ; the original and the derivation of all; it 



was from our Lord^ by his Apostle : I did it, hia 

(1.) And therefore, first, not a suffiragan of St 
Peter, as some of the Romish partizans would 
fain have it ;* who, to serve the over-high pre- 
tences of that court, are not content to dogma* 
tise, that St. Peter was the prince, and sovereign 
of the Apostles, and his very successors superior 
to the Apostles that survived him ; and that, they 
being once all dead, there was never since any 
power in the church, but in succession to him, 
and by derivation from him; dare yet higher, 
and with strange confidence pronounce, that the 
Apostles themselves were all ordained by St, 
•Peter, and he alone by Christ : And that, when 
the Holy Ghost said,^ Separate me Barnabas and 
Saul, for the work whereunto 1 have called them; 
they were thereupon sent up to Jerusalem, to be 
ordained by St. Peter. Affirmations so very 
strange, that I know not what can be more ; un- 
less this be, that they should think them passable 
with us, upon the authority of JPetrus Comestor, 
the Scholastic historian, and those suspected § de- 
cretals of the false merchant I mentioned at the 
beginning. Whereas, for the imposition of hands 
upon Barnabas and Saul, (were it a blessing, or 

* Suar. adv. feet. Angl. 1. 3. c. 12. f. Bellarm. de R. Pont L 1. 
c. 1 1. f. e. 23. Magal. in I. Tim. Prpapm. seet. \h k 13,. 
t Aets, xiii. 2. 
I Hist. Aet. Ap. e. 70. 
§ Anacleti^ Felieis I. Inn. F. 



were it * an ordination) it is plainly inferred, ver: 
3, to have been performed upon the place by the 
persons mentioned, verse 1. And St. Paxil, for 
his particular, in the front of every epistle, enters 
his protestation against all this, as if he had fore- 
seen it ; still qualifying himself f an Apostle of 
Jesus Christ by the will of God ; J an Apostle; 
not of men, nor by man, but § by the command- 
ment of God our Saviour ; and accordingly you 
may see him contesting it to the height, both 
against Peter and the rest, Gal. i. and ii. through- 
out, — That the Gospel he preached was not of 
man, the Apostleship he exercised was not from 
man : but the one by immediate revelation, the 
other by assignation from Heaven itself. So 
that, having received his mission thence, and his 
instructions too, he thought it unnecessary to con- 
fer with flesh and blood, to apply himself to any 
mortal man, for the enhancing of either. He 
went up indeed to Jerusalem to visit Peter three 
years after his conversion, and yet once || again 
fourteen years after, he returned thither, and had 
conference with James, and Cephas, and John; 
but these pillars added nothing to him ; neither 
established his authority, nor advanced his know- 

* As our chuFch seems to have determined. See the Exhorta- 
.tion before the Litany in the Consecratioq of B. B. 
t2Tim.i. 1. 
t Gal. i. 1. 

§ 1 Tim. Chap, i. v. 1. 12. 15, 16. 18. ii. 7. 
II Gal. Chap. ii. Y. 1.6.9. 


ledge : and Titus himself was present at the in- 
terview, and so an eye-witness, that in nothing he 
came behind the very chiefest Apostles ; for they 
all gave him the right-hand of fellowship, far from 
exacting the right-hand of pre-eminence: and 
«o Paul an Apostle of Jesus Christ, not a deputy 
of the apostolical college, much less a suffragan 
of St. Peter, or his legate, a latere^ as was pre- 
tended. But, 

(2.) Not a disciple of Gamaliel. For there is 
a disputer of this world, who having laid it down 
for a principle with himself (indeed his w^irw 
HTiZioi) that all pretence of ecclesiastical power, 
as from Christ, is but an imposture, is thereupon 
obliged to give such an account of the appear- 
ances of it in the New Testament, as may suit 
with this Postulatum : And accordingly, for the 
particular of imposition of hands for ordination of 
elders* will have it only in pursuance of a Jewish 
custom, which St. Paul learned at the feet of his 
master Gramaliel, under whom he commenced 
elder, before he was Christian, and thereupon, 
after, thought good to create his own disciples to 
the same dignity (according to t the law of those 
schools,) and Titus among the rest, whom he left 
in Crete, to do the like, and to constitute his 
scholars elders too, in all the cities where he 
should preach. A discourse so loose and inco- 

* De Synod, lib. i. cap. 14. p. 569, &c. 
t Page 571. Unusquisque rit^ creatus potest Discipulos suos rit^ 

fiERMONS. 315 

herent, that it is not worth your while to stand 
by, and see it fall in pieces, which it would quickly 
do (were it not already done * to our hands) upon 
a gentle examination. I shall only remind you 
of what was said before upon the former particu- 
lar, and so leave it in compromise to any indif- 
ferent; whether St. Paul the Apostle of Jesus 
Christ, who so stoutly refuseth to releve of St. 
Peter himself, or the rest of the Apostles, as 
owing his whole commission to Heaven alone, 
would yet acknowledge to hold it of R. Gamaliel, 
the unconverted Jew, as usher of his school, or 
graduate in a Rabbinical academy. 

(3). (Yet further to vindicate ourselves) An 
Apostle of Jesus Christ, not a delegate of the 
civil magistrate. For f Suarez, the Spanish Je-r 
suit, that he may have something to confute in 
the English sect (as he will needs call us), saith 
confidently, that the power of order with us is 
nothing else but a deputation of certain persons 
by the temporal magistrate, to do those acts 
which he himself much more might do; made 
indeed with some kind of ceremonies, but those 
esteemed arbitrary, and unnecessary to the effect, 
which would follow as well without them, by the 
kings sole deputation. A calumny, which the 
whole business of this day most solemnly refutes : 
a kind of a second Nag's-head fable, a fil of the 

* See Dr, H. H. Letter of Resolat. &c. Quer. 5. 
t Advers. Sect. An^. lib. 3. cap. 8. num. 12, 


fiame race, both sire and dam, begotten by the 
father of lies upon a slanderous tongue, and so 
sent post about the world, to tell false tidings of 
the English ; as credible, as that our kingps excom- 
municate, or Queen Elizabeth preached. Would 
they have been just, or ingenuous, they should have 
laid the brat at the physician's door, who was the 
father of it : not the beloved Physician, though 
his name comes nigh; (Erastus,butnot'Ay««-iiro(;) 
no, his praise was not in the Gospel, but a phy- 
sician in Geneva, learned, and eminent enough. 
It is remarkable that, in the same place, and 
about the same time (so unlucky an ascendant 
hath error and mistake upon some persons!) 
should three conceits be hatched concemmg 
church-government, which, like three furies, have 
vexed the quiet of the church ever since. For the 
consistorial, and congregational pretences were 
twins of the same birth; though the younger 
served the elder, and, being much overpowered, 
sunk in the stream of time, till it appeared again 
in this unhappy age, amongst the ghosts of so 
many revived errors, that have escaped from their 
tombs to walk up and down and disturb the 
world. And, not long after, this physician too 
would needs step out of his own profession, to 
mistake in two other at once, policy and divinity, 
running a risk of setting ill-understanding be- 
twixt them, had not abler and wiser heads than 
he stepped in, and so evenly cut the thread, so 
exactly stated the controversy, and asserted the 


tery due oil either side, that there remaitis now no 
ground, either of jealousy among friends^ or, one 
would think, of slander from enemies. And yet 
even some of our own too, (which we have rea- 
son more deeply to resent,) would needs bear the 
world in hand, when time was, that the claim of 
episcopal power, as from Christ and his Apostles, 
was an assault upon the right of our kings, and 
tended to the disherison of the crown. As if 
the calling might not stand by Divine right, and 
yet the adjuncts and appendages of it by human 
bounty : as if the office itself might not be from 
Christ, and yet the exercise of it only by, and 
under, the permission of pious kings : or, as if 
the church might not owe the keys of the king* 
dom of Heaven, both that of order and that of 
jurisdiction too (purely spiritual, I mean, and 
without any temporal effect), to the donation of 
Christ ; and yet, at the same time, owe all their 
coactive power in the external regimen (which is 
one of the keys of the kingdoms of this world, 
for the enforcing of obedience by constraint) to 
the political sanction. These things thus clearly, 
distinguished, I cannot see why we may not with 
some consequence infer the apostolical, and, at 
least, in consequence thereupon, the divine right 
of our ecclesiastical hierarchy, how harsh soever 
it sounds, either at Rome or Geneva ; and though 
the hills about *Trent resounded loud with the 

* Vide Hist. Concil. Trid. lib. 7. 

318 APPEH&IX. 

echo of that noise, and stiff debate, which passed 
upon that argument within the walls of that 
council. However they like it on this side the 
hills or beyond, St. Paul stands firmly by bs, 
and voucheth the grand charter of his Apostolate 
for all : Me vie, adsum qui fecit — It was I, the 
Apostle of Jesus Christ, that left Titus to ordain 
Elders in Crete; and what Y.^fr^iytro¥ will be 
found for this argument ? It was the Holy Ghost 
that made you bishops, saith the same Apostle* 
to the elders at Miletus; so that these anre no 
Milesian fables, but f the words of truth and 
soberness, a part of the Holy and Divine n^a^a*^ 
roAov, the real acts and gests of the Apostles of 
Christ; nay, the act and deed of Christ himself 
by his Apostle, according to that rule of the He- 
brews,;}; Apostolus, cujiLsq. est, ut quisque. And 
so much for the original of the power. 

I go on (II) to the subject, and that is Titus r 
Ego te, I left thee. 

(1.) Thee first, mine host, and of the whole 
church. For, when the Jews at Corinth § contra^ 
dieted and blasphemed the doctrine delivered 
by St. Paul, he shook his raiment, and || departed 
into the house of one Justus, (so we read it after 
the Greek copies,) one that worshipped God, and 

* Acts, XX. 38. 

f Acts, xxvi. 25. 

t iniD3 D-TH bm in*^B^ Talm. in Kidduschin. fol. 41.2. 

§ Acts, xviii. 6. 

II V. 7. 


dwelt by the Synagogue ; and ♦there he abode 
eighteen months. But the Syriac version saith^ 
it was the house of Titus, (and so fSt. Chry- 
isostom seemeth, by his preface to this epistle, to 
have found it in some copies ;) and the Vulgar 
Latin and Arabic, reconciling both, the house of 
Titus Justus, or of Titus the son of Justus. If 
you give credit to this tradition, thus fairly de* 
rived, it will return to this lesson — that no man 
serves God in vain ; that none opens the doors of 
Grod s house, nor the doors of his own to receive 
God's church in, that loseth his reward. Oba- 
diah, that secured and fed an hundred prophets in 
persecution, received a prophet's reward, and.J 
(though but a proselyte) was himself made one 
of the twelve. The house of Obed-Edom, the 
Gittite, and all that pertained to him was blessed, 
for the Ark of God's sake, that occasionally turned 
in thither. And Titus, a Gentile, who received 
St. Paul into his house, not only gains thereby 
the lights of faith, and the incomparable advan- 
tages of religion; but is himself introduced into 
the church, which is the house of God, and set 
amongst the princes there ; being singled out to 
this special honour from amongst the many that 
attended St. Paul in his journeyings. IJear this, 
you noble and generous souls, who, in this time 

* Acts, xviii. 11. 

t oJfAm il avTH nai h riv Tifa^wi* iTvai ^ammip. Tax* "'^ Kopif 
9m( «» il [An TIC iri^ ofAi^rv/AO^ avriS. 
X Vide Munst. VatabL et alios in Obad. 


of calamity, have spread your wings over the peiS 
3ecuted prophets of God, and had a church ia 
your house when they made a stable of the 
church. Believe it, God and his church pay their 
quarters wherever they come^ and there i» not 
one of you shall miss of his reward. 

2. TheCf who wert so exceedingly dear, so 
highly useful to me, * Titus my brother, fmine 
own son after the common faith ; two very en- 
dearing titles : and then, so necessary to me, that 
J when I came to Troas, to preach Christ's Gospel^ 
and a door was opened unto me of the Lord, I had 
no rest in my spirit, because I found not Titus 
my brother ; but taking my leave, went thence 
into Macedonia. Upon whiqh place, with some 
others, § St. Jerome || hath founded his conjecture, 
that Titus was St. Paul's interpreter to the Gre- 
cians. For, though the Apostle understood the 
Greek language, and wrote it too elegantly enough, 
yet % there might be something of uncouth and 
barbarous in his pronunciation, which rendered it 
not so smooth and passable to a common Greek 
ear (which Josephus also, though ** a spruce 

* 2 Cor. ii. 12. t Tit. i. 2. 

t 2 Cor. ii. 12, 13. § 2 Cor. vii, 6. 

II Epist. 150. ad Hedib. qu. 11. 

% Divinorum sensuum Majestatem digno non poterat Graeci 
eloquii explicare sermone. S. Hieron. ibid, vide et Baron, torn. i. 
ann. 45, n. 32, '&c. 


Greek writer, * complains of, as both his own, 
and the general infelicity of his nation). But,, 
though Titus was so needful to St. Paul in this, 
or some such respect, and so dear and precious in 
many others^ yet the Apostle most resolvedly 
leaves him behind in Crete; as he, who knew 
most cheerfully to sacrifice all his own advantages, 
and the tenderest and inmost of his affections to 
the benefit of Christ's church, and the interest of 
religion. Let us go, and do likewise. 

3. But thirdly and principally ; Thee, a single 
person; not a Consistory of Presbyters, or a 
Bench of Elders. But this observation, together 
with the next particular, (IIL) the extent of this 
power, as it reacheth the whole island of Crete, I 
shall have occasion to resume by and by ; and so 
pass on at present. 

There is nothing behind of the first part of the 
text, but (IV.) the conveyance of the power 
couched, or supposed, in Ego reliqui. I left thee. 
A close conveyance, by a word, in which there 
may be much more understood than expressed ; 
viz. A derivation, or transmission of power from 
St. Paul to Titus, enabling him for the discharge 
of that work he was intrusted with. Reliquit vice 
sud ; as Haymot well. As if St. Paul had said, 
I left thee in Crete, my deputy, and vicegerent 
there, to water what I had planted ; to build up 

* Antiq. 1. 20. c. ult. Tv ^i »i^» rip m^^^at tU^ifi§tat vaT^«« 

t In locum. 


what I had founded ; to perfect what I had begun. 
I left thee to reside in Crete, (as I besought Ti- 
mothy to abide at Ephesus, vfov/AtTirai,^ to be resi- 
dent there, as fixed and ordinary governor of that 
church, while I went on still to preach the Gro^pel 
in other regions, where the name of Christ had 
not been heard. In fine, for this cause was he 
left, that he should perform such special acts, 
(ordain elders and reform what was amiss,) and 
therefore certainly left commissioned, and autho- 
rized after the Apostolical guise, to do those acts, 
viz. by imposition of hands and episcopal ordina- 
tion : which is a true gloss, though of a pseudo 
Ambrose,* Titum Apostolus cansecravit Episcopum: 
and backed by Theophylact, and others amongst 

the Grecians, ^EttI^xottq^ ri Kf^ruf 3tc;^M^OT&iniro. 

But it will best appear what the power was in 
the conveyance, (and consequently what the con- 
veyance itself,) by taking notice, what it was to 
be in the exercise of it : and so I go on to the 
second part of my text, in which we find it de- 
signed to a double act, — to order and to ordain ; 

1 . In the first there will be some variety. For 
•E»i^iof6Sv, being properly to 1[ correct, or maki 
straight that which is crooked; (not that which is 
wanting, to which it seems not to have so just a 
tapport ;) and ri xuirovrot, being, in the next notion, 
those things which are. wanting (and, therefore, 

♦ In Titum. f Vide Sulteti Obw. in Tit. 1. c. 2. 

8£RM0NS. 323 

not BO aptly said to be corrected, as supplied or 
added): For the according of the terms, I cannot 
see why the participle may not have as powerfiil 
influence upon the verb, (to qualify that,) as that 
upon the participle; and shall, therefore, make, 
this advantage of the doubt, to take in the consi- 
deration of both senses, and suppose that Titus is 
here commissioned, both to supply >vhat was 
wanting, and to correct what was amiss. 

First, To supply what was wanting. And then 
the nerve and emphasis of the verb will lie in the 
preposition ; *EviiiogK¥j to do something addition- 
ally, and by way of supplement to what was 
done before, but was not sufficient. Ti cxxiiireirr* 
a»«vXii(al«-ai, as St. Chrysostom,* to Jill up the va- 
cuities and defects that were left, which probably 
were not a few in Crete, especially a church so 
lately founded, (but f the year before,) and in 
which St. Paul stayed so short a time, in which 
long works could not be brought about. Neither 
let any church, though of longer continuance, 
flatter and sooth up itself, with Laodicea,;}: as if it 
needed nothing. The ship of the church is never 
so perfectly rigged but something may be added. 
*Tis seldom, or never, but some pin or other is lack- 
ing, even in God's Tabernacle, while it sojourns 
here below, just as in the material church; 'tis 
scarce known, but either the roof is open, or the 

* Hcmiil. 1. t Vide Baron. Ami) 58. 

X Apoc 3. 17. 



pavement uneven, the windows broken, or some 
part or other of the wall mouldering, and dropping 
away : so in the spiritual, either the light is not 
good, or the walking is not answerable ; 'tis well 
if the foundation stands firm and sinks not ; but 
the superstructions, most commonly, want some* 
thing that must be supplied. And therefore,, 
methinks, the inference is strong. There is need 
of a bishop in every church, that must * learn lus 
office in his name, and look about him, be "'Ox^c 
ip^aXfAoi, (as Isidore Peleusiote appositely) ; and, 
like a wise master builder, have a careful eye, 
ever awake, upon all parts, to see what is want- 
ing, and to supply it. That is the first. 

But secondly. To correct what is amiss; things 
that are faulty and defective, and want something, 
(sc. of their due rectitude and conformity to the 
rule;) for so perhaps the T« x«Vovt« may signify 
T« iXXiiri), and Hesychiust shall warrant me that 
gloss. Or else Ti xmrorotxlivTot, things that leave 
their rank, and start out of their place ; and so to 
be reduced and set in order again. And of this 
sort also there was but too much in Crete. For, 
to say nothing of the evil beasts with the nimble 
tongues, and :{:slow bellies, we find also in this 
chapter Jewish leaven to be purged out, and as 

* Isid. Pelus. lib. i. £p. 149. '£710^0915 avrow xipif <>y S'^r, 

t Uesych. AmwU rl lAXiiWc %u Lege UTwWf et tPJUfrtf^. 

} Tit. I. 10. 

8ERM0XS. ' 325 

some* have thought, gnostic impurity to be re- 
sisted, t unruly, and vain talkers, and deceivers, J 
subverters of whole houses ; teachers of things 
they ought not, for filthy lucre's sake ;§ men that 
profess to know God, but in works deny him, 
being abominable, disobedient, and to every good 
work reprobate. So that, for aught we see, they 
might well enough deserve the black character 
the Proverb brands them with, amongst the Tgia 
Kimsra xaxir^, the three II very infamous nations 
that began with C, for such a superfluity of 
naughtiness. St. Paul here designs a propor- 
tionate corrective, and sends Titus and his elders 
amongst them, to bring them into better order, 
by a three-fold instrument. Vita, Doctrina, Cen- 
sura ; all in this epistle, and in this chapter. 

1. Vita first, by the example of his holy life. 
^ In all things showing thyself Tuirov xaXwv t^ym, a 
pattern of good works. For, as St. Ambrose** 
excellently. In Episcopo vitafomiatur omnium; the 
life of the prelate is, as it were, a form, or mould, 
in which the conversation of others is shaped and 
modelled: or, as -j"}- Isidore Pelusiot conceits it, 
like a seal well cut, which stamps the common 
Christians under his care, as wax, with the like 
impressions. And therefore St. Paul, who well 

* Dr. H. Hammond in c. 1. 9. 16. f V. 10. J V. U. 
§ V. 16. II Kawaloxif, Kfirt^y K»^»xlf. % Ch. ii. 7. 

♦* Lib. 10. Epist. 82. ad Eccles. Verccl. 
ft Lib. 1. Epist. 319. £i rvwcq ii^ivf rS vei^vlv, mti*i[m%^ xtSk 


326 APP£KPIX. 

understood this, twice within two veraes of my 
text, requires it a qualification in a bishop, that 
he be blameless, * ipiyxXnT^i, one that cannot be 
accused, which yet innocence itself, you know, 
may be ; nay, but a bishop must be void of sus- 
picion too, as well as crime. Aye, that's the way 
to set all right indeed : for so fair a copy, placed 
in so good a light, teacheth itself; and every one 
that runs by will read it, and strive to write after 

2. But secondly, Z>oc/riiia; by speaking the thingi 
that become sound doctrine, f For a bishop must be 
able both :{:to exhort and to convince the gain- 
sayers : ^ In doctrine showing uncomiptness, 
gravity, sincerity, sound speech that cannot be 
condemned, that he, that is of the contrary part, 
may be ashamed, &c. 

3. Censura, That must not be forgotten, as being 
chief in the eyes of the text. No ; the garden of 
Grod must be weeded sometimes, or, like the 
sluggard's vineyard, || it will soon be overgrown 
with nettles and thorns. Even Christ's vine 
must be pruned too, or it will run out, and spend 
itself in fruitless luxury. The Lamps of the Tem- 
ple will bum faint and dim, if they be not trim- 
med, and dressed, and snuffed now and then. 
And, therefore, though the Tables of the Law, and 
the Pot of Manna be in the Ark, yet it is not a 

* Inaccusabilis : Cajetan. f Ch..ii. I. 

t Ch. L 9. § Ch. ii. 7, 8. 

II Prov. xxiv. 30, 31. 


perfect emblem of the Church, unless the Rod of 
Aaron be there too: and, without jurisdiction and 
discipline, we shall quickly find the Word and 
Sacraments will not have so powerful an influence 
upon a loose and a debauched world. Epiphanius* 
observes, that Moses was sent into Egypt, fafitu 
fAo^. Some while after, he instituted the Pass- 
over, and received the Law, and consecrated 
Aaron and his sons to the priesthood; but he 
carried the Rod of God with him in his hand. 
No bringing up the Israel of God out of Egypt 
without it. And it is that Rod, therefore, which 
St. Paul here puts into Titus's hand, when he bids 
him correct what is amiss in the text, and rebuke 
evil doers f sharply and severely, v. 11 ; and stop 
the mouths of such as teach what they ought not, 
v. 13. Nay, and rebuke them ;{: with all authority, 
not suffering his monitions to be slighted by any : 
Let no man contemn thee, Ch. 11. v. 15. 

Nay, if corrigas will not serve the turn, be a 
word too low ; St. Jerome, upon the place, apd, 
after him. Cardinal Cajetan, have added a cubit 
to its stature, and advanced it into super-corrigas, 
which yet perhaps arrives not the full altitude of 
the Greek. For iwitiofih is a decompound, and, 
if ifiiw be to make straight, or right, ti^fiiv is 
thoroughly to do it, and miiofiiy to do it, not only 
exactly, but over and over again. St. Chrysostom 
and St. Jerome ^ both take notice of this emphasis, 

* Contra Hsres. lib. L c. 1 . Contra Aerian. 

t 'Awto/a^c. X MiT* mii^m i«nTa>iK. § In locum. 



and state it thus ; ' That whereas St. Paul had 
corrected some things, and so far ; Titus should 
go on where he left, and complete what he had 
begun; bringing them yet to another test, till 
they came forth, like gold, more than once tried 
in the furnace.' 

An hint which will perhaps be too greedily 
catched at by those to whose advantage it was 
never intended. A sort of men, that are all for 
super-corrigas, but it is still on the wrong side, 
and of that which is not amiss. The reformers of 
the world, and syndios of all Christendom ; men 
but of yesterday, yet wiser and better than all the 
fathers, that over-correct, and over-reform every 
thing : correct Magnificat itself, before they be 
out of danger of the rest of the Proverb : correct, 
not the Cretans and their amisses, but Titus and 
his Elders, serving all antiquity, and patterns of 
primitive government, as * Procrustes did his 
guests, who still reduced them to the scantling of 
his beds. So these, either cutting them short, or 
forcing them out longer, till they apply to the just 
model they have fancied to themselves, and would 
impose upon others. Thus Titus must be screwed 
up into an extraordinary, and so a temporary 
officer, an Evangelist, or a secondary Apostle, (as 
Walo Messalinus, and others,) not a fixed and or- 
dinary governor of the Church of Crete, lest that 
come cross to their designs : and on the other 

* 'AHiynaam^ ovrSrf um%aw ro^ «A*rni^. Plat, in Thesev. 


side, the Elders of the Text must be degraded 
into common Presbyters, lest we should have 
bishops here of St. Paul's and Titus's own crea- 
tion : with how little reason in either, we go on 
to consider in 

11. The second act, to which this power is here 
designed, and that is Ka^^foim^, to ordain Elders in 
every city. 

Concerning which Elders, whether of the first 
or second rank, I know well what variety of 
opinion hath past, even amongst my own mother's 
sons. Nor shall I be nice to acknowledge it ; as 
counting it our advantage, that we have more 
than a single hypothesis to salve the phenomena, 
and some choice of answers, each of them suffici- 
ently securing us from the contradiction of the 
gainsay ers; to whose pretentions these Elders will 
be for ever useless, whether understood Bishops, 
or common Presbyters, always ordained, and 
governed, either by the Apostles themselves, or 
by bishops of their appointment, as they drew off. 
But, not to leave it wholly in the clouds, I will 
not doubt to profess mine own sense too, with 
due submission ; that the Elders in the Text were 
very Bishops, appointed one for every city, and 
the suburbicarian region thereof. 
^ 1. For this is most agreeable, not only to the 
exposition of the Ancient Church, (the best com- 
ment, when all is done, upon doubtful places of 

2. But to the context, also, which expressly 


cajls them Bishops in the seventh verse. Were it 
not for this, and what follows in the next parti- 
cular, we were, perhaps, at liberty to leave the 
world at large in its general acception, as it takes 
in both orders, both useful in every city, and so 
both to be supplied by Titus, in which * Oecu- 
menius hath gone before us, affirming, that Titos 
was left in Crete, to ordain clerks in every dtf. 
But we are determined : for, though at present I 
demand not, that n^fo^vri^ o^, wherever it occuis 
in the New Testament, should signify a Bishop ; 
yet, that ^Ewivxwuq doth so, I shall not doubt to 
affirm, till I see the text produced that attributes 
it to some person, otherwise evinced to have been 
no more than a single Presbyter. 

And thirdly, and lastly, most agreeable also 
to the text itself, and the distribution of these 
Presbyters by cities, the peculiar seat of Bishops, 
according to the scheme of the Ancient Church, 
and the method the blessed Apostles thought 
good to use in the plantmg and modelling of it. 
For, that they preached the Grospel not only in 
cities,! but in the countries adjoining ; yet planted 
churches in cities still, and settled single persons 
their successors there, to govern both the cities 
and the regions round about, (from whence a city 
and a church come to be equipollent terms, even 
in the Apostolical Writings, and n^fo-jSurff oc warm 

* Argum. in Tit. "ira tLarariain itala «oXm( xn^ixvc. 

t *H x*^i ^^ ^ ^^^ Xf^* ^'^^' ^i"' ^^- "^^ ^* ^9 ^- 


ixnXncUv in the Acts* the same with Uft^irtct 
xari voXiy in the tcxt ;) and yet further, that they 
left the churches of inferior cities and jtheir 
Bishops in dependance upon the metropolis, 
which were the chief according to the civil divi- 
sion, (and that the only true ground of the supe- 
riority of one church above another,) hath been 
rendered as manifest as any thing almost in the 
ecclesiastical antiquity, against all adversaries, 
(both those of the hills and those of the lake too,) 
by the learned and well placed labours of those 
excellent persons in both pages of the diptychs, 
whom I shall not need to name, since their own 
works praise them in the gate. Now, I would 
ask the question. If these be common Presbyters, 
why appropriated to cities? Were there to be 
none of this sort in the villages, or in the country 
about? Or, since limited to cities, why should 
we not pronounce them Bishops ? the city being 
the Bishop's proper seat, and he the star of that 
orb, the angel and the intelligence of that sphere. 
A truth so visible, that Calvin, and Beza, and 
many others after them, (so far may persons 
otherwise of great learning be transported » ry 
inxium uVo^iVm,) to avoid the inconvenience, were 
concerned to translate Kara voXiv here oppidatim, 
(Elders in every Town :) not, as some others, less 
interested persons, may perhaps be thought to 
have done, to gain the advantage of that distribu- 

* Act. xiv. 24. and xvi. 4, 5. 


tive termination, which no adverb from Civitas, 
or Urbsy could afford them; but,* I fear, for 
some other design perhaps, to make the inter- 
pretation of the text (a practice too usual with 
them and other) to lacquay it to the espoused 
opinions, and to serve the w^ia H^a, and so to 
whip theology with grammar's rods; but so 
loosely bound up, that at the first stroke they fly 
in the air and prove ineffectual; every Alpha- 
betarian knowing well, that the Latin of it is Urbs, 
or Civitas : and Oppidum, in the precise propriety 
of language (which ought in such cases to be 
kept), KafAOTsroXig at the most, in middle state be- 
twixt a city and a drop; and in the ancient 
glosses -f no more than nex/;p^irieir, civitatula at the 

And now, I shall not take upon me as some 
have done, to number the cities under Titus's ju- 
risdiction. It is true, in Homer's time Crete was 
*£xaTOjtAToA»c, X famous for its hundred cities : but 
in Ptolemy's age they arose not to half the num- 
ber ; and Pliny, having named about forty, saith 
plainly, that of the other sixty memoria extat^ no- 
thing remained but the memory. In the times of 
the Greek empire, there were about twenty suffra- 
gan bishops, under four archbishops, as M agnius§ 
reckons them up; but, at this day, under the 
Venetian, not half so many of either sort. So 

* See Mr. Hooker's Preface. t Glos. Pliilox et CirillL 

X Centum urbiuni clara fama. Plin. lib. 4. cap. 12. 
§ In Gregor. pag. 183. b. 


variable are these proportions, according to the 
fate of cities, and the daily change of the civil 
partition ; who would look now for the throne of 
a primate in Caer-Leon upon Uske? or rake in 
the ruins of Carthage for St. Cyprian's mitre ? 
He that should undertake a pilgrimage to Crete, 
to visit Titus's metropolis, would in vain inquire 
for the once famous Gortyna, and not find so 
much of its dust together, as would suffice to 
write its name in. That renowned Septenary of 
Asia, of old not only episcopal, * but metropoliti- 
cal churches, where are they? Cities may fail, 
and bishops' sees with them : Stars have their 
vicissitudes ; may rise, and set again : Candle- 
sticks are moveable utensils, and may be carried 
from room to room ; but KarawiXiv is the standing 
rule, and fails not ; a city and a bishop, generally 
adequate to one another. For as on the one side, 
an universal bishop, with the whole world for his 
jurisdiction, is a proud pretence, and too vast for 
humanity to grasp ; so on the other side, rural 
bishops too is a poor and a mean design, and not 
only retrieves the Italian Episcopelli, so scorned 
at Trent, but worse. As he divided the stream 
into so many rills, that it lost its name and being; 
so these, by a too minute division, would cantonize 
the dignity, and degrade it into nothing at the 
last ; as the Roitelets, and petty kings of Ivedot, 
do but diminish majesty, and take it down into 

* Sec the learned Primate's excellent Discourses of the Original 
of Metrop. and the Proconsular Asia. 


contempt.* OU iu h rxT^ xm/xaio Ov it7 fir ra7^ x^^c. 

Non in vicis, aut vilUsy aut'\ modica civitate: No 
bishops there, J lest they grow contemptible ; so 
run the canons of the ancient church, both Greek 
and Latin. And therefore the twelfth Council of 
Toledo § unmitred one Convildus, formerly an ab- 
bot in a little village, and dissolved the bishopric, 
which JBamba, the Gothic king, had violently 
procured to be erected there ; and that by autho- 
rity of this rule of the church, and the very Harm 
wiXif of my text,^ which they actually plead in 
the front of their decree, to justify their proceed- 

Amongst these so many cities in Crete, Gortyna 
was then the civil metropolis, as Solinus,^* who 
lived in that iage, informs us, and in the next age, 
we are sure, the ecclesiastical metropolis too; 
there being still extant,tt ^^ the Church Story, 
the inscription of an epistle that plainly infers it 
For Dionysius, that renowned bishop of Corinth, 
who flourished about the middle of the second 
century, and stands so highly commended in 
Eusebius for his Catholic Epistles (seven of ihem 
being there mentioned) to several churches and 

* Concil. Liaodic. Sardic. Tolet. 12. f q. d. Non in oppido. 

\ Ne yilescat nomcn Episcopi. § Ann. 716. (| Or Veamba. 

% Impiimis ex Epistola Pauli Tito Discipvlo^ nt Episo^ot per 
civitates constituere debeat^ pnecepit^ &c. CoociL Merlin, ton. i. 
p. 135. b. 

** Cap. 17. Centum constipati Uibibus qoarum prindpatus est 
penes Gorty. 

ft Euseb. I 4. cap. ny. 


their bishops^ or, as St. Jerome * hath it more dis- 
tinctly, Ad aliarum Urbium, et Provinciarum Epis- 
copos, (some of them being written to inferior 
cities and bishops, others to mother-cities, and 
their metropolitans, and so to whole provinces,) 
amongst the rest sent two into Crete, the one 
of the former sort to Pinytu^ Gnossia urbis Epis- . 
copus, as St. Jerome, or as Eusebius,! to the 
Gnossians, and Pinytus, bishop of that diocese 
only : the other, of the latter sort, and in a dif-^ 
ferent style,;]: to the Church about (or belonging 
ipto) Gortyna, together with the rest of the dioceses 
in Crete, and in it acknowledgeth Philip their 
bishop, that is, not only of that church of Gor- 
tyna, but of all those dioceses, (^Evlnow9¥ aJrafy, not 
aurifc,) whom therefore St. Jerome significantly 
qualifies EpUcopum Cretensem, hoc est urbis Gor- 
tyna, Bishop of Gortyna, et eo nomine of all Crete 
too. Enough to make evidence, that Gortyna 
was the metropolis of Crete, even in the Christian 
account, v^ry early, and long before the Council 
of Nice, (whatever hath been pretended to the 
contrary,) and probably in the epoch of the text 
itself; since even then it was certainly such in 
the civil style, most confessedly the ground of 
the Christian establishment (for sure it was not 
chance, or lottery, that produced a perpetual 

§ In Catalogo Script. Eccles. 


coincidence) both there, and elsewhere the world 

And now, let me lead you up to the top of Mount 
Ida, the proudest height in Crete ; from whence 
Geographers tell us, we may descry both seas, 
and see all the cities, like a crown, in circle about 
it. There let us make a stand a while, and look 
about us, and consider holy Titus, with those nu- 
merous plantations, and nurseries of primitive 
Christianity, distributed, as it were* areolatim, 
like so many distinct beds, and knots in the Eden 
of God, planted and watered, and drest by Apos- ^ 
tolical hands, all under his care and custody. 
Consider him (by way of recollection) under the 
variety of circumstance, wherein the text hath 
hitherto presented him to our meditations, con- 
sider him a single person ; no colleagues, no com- 
peers, no co-ordinates. For, as our Lord promised 
the keys,(and doubtless so gave as he had promised 
them,) not to a college, but to single persons,! 
Tibi dabo — et quodcunque (tu) ligaveris : So the 
Apostles, at the next remove; St. Paul here, I am 
sure, for one, intrusts all, not to communities and 
consistories, but to individuals ; for so runs the 
style, Ego Te-ut Tu sicut ego Tibi, all personal, 
and particular. Consider him determined to a 
fixed and constant residence, left, and settled in 
Crete, the ordinary and perpetual governor of 
that church. For we ought to have more regard 
to reason and the true nature of things, than to 

•SERMONS. 337 

pronounce him an extraordinary officer ; who, for 
aught appears, is impowered to none, but acts of 
ordinary, and continual importance to the church : 
and more reverence for the blessed Apostle, than 
to think he would issue a commission, full fraught 
with rules of perpetual use, to a temporary dele- 
gate, who was perhaps next day to be exauc- 
torated, and never to have any exercise of them. 
Consider him yet further invested with a pleni- 
tude and sufficiency of power (not only to preach, 
and baptise, and so to beget sons to God and the 
church, which is the Presbyter's, and, for aught 
I know, the whole of the Evangelist's office; but 
also) both to ordain Elders in all the cities under 
him, and so to beget spiritual fathers too, as Epi- 
phanius * distinguisheth ; and then, (as in the old 
paternal dominion, they ruled whom they had 
begotten,) to govern and regulate whom he had 
thus ordained, even all the bishops of those nu- 
merous cities. Whence the question of our reve- 
rend and learned -f Jewel most naturally pro- 
ceedeth, ' Having the government of so many 
Bishops, what may we call him but an Arch- 
bishop V (And I add) of so many cities, what but 
a Metropolitan ? I say, consider all this soberly 
and maturely, and you will not disavow me if I 
say, that whosoever shall drive us out of this 
Crete, thus strongly garrisoned by St. Paul and 
his Disciples, and slight and dismantle so many 

* CoDtra Hseres. lib. 3. contr. Aerium. 
t Apud Rev. Usseriom. 
VOL. II. z 



strengths and fortresses of the episcopal cause as 
there were cities in that island, and extort out of 
our hands this great instance of so many bishops, 
ordained and governed by their own metropo- 
litan, so high in the first age ; will be a very Pyr- 
gopolinices indeed/ qui legumes Spiritu difflat, and 
deserve the surname of Creticus, better than 
Metellus the Roman, that subdued the island. 

For our parts, we are not ashamed of our con- 
formity to so primitive a pattern ; nay, we glory 
in so handsome and innocent a syncretism : for 
we are not better than our fathers; nor wiser 
than the Apostles of Christ himself. And, had 
we been of their counsel, who not long since pre- 
tended to reform us according to the best exam- 
ples, we might have bespoke them, as once St 
Paul did those over hasty and unruly mariners 
(who would needs put to sea when sailing was 
dangerous, and thrive accordingly, being quickly 
forced to abandon the helm, and to let the ship f 
drive, being not able to bear up against the wind;};) 

Ein fxlify S iyifify fjkn Moiyi^^M dm rife KpitnK, ' Sirs, 

you should not have parted from Crete (in the 
text), and so have gained ^ harm and disgrace/ If 
really you be in quest of the best examples of 
modelling a church, you may certainly find here 
as fair and as pure ideas, and as well worth 
your imitation, as the more modem platform can 

• Plant, in Milite. f Act. xxyii. 15. 

% Ver. 21. § Ibid, tuf SjSpif nmi rif {Vl«». 


afford you, which* I have reason to believe the 
famous author of it intended not ai first a pattern 
to other churches, but an expedient to serve the 
present exigency of his own, in a juncture scarce 
capable of any thing better, and which, I am per- 
suaded, the leamedest, and wisest, and most pious 
of his followers would gladly relinquish for some- 
thing more perfect and primitive ; would the ne- 
cessities of their present condition (which have 
no law, but much of excuse for those that really 
lie under them) permit them the happiness of so 
blessed an exchange, which God in mercy send 

And so much of the second act, to which the 
power is here designed, and that is the ordaining 
of Elders, together with the distribution of them 
Kara voX^¥y In every city one. 

I have but three words to add of the first part 
of my text, and that was the limitation of these 
acts to the Apostle's prescription ; all must be so 
done, even as he had appointed. So, in regard of 
the variety of the offices themselves, and their 
several subordinations ; so in regard of the choice 
of the persons, and their requisite qualifications ; 
and so, also, in regard of the rites, and ceremo- 
nies, and manner' of ordaining them: still, *Ac lyJ 
iiira^cifAn¥. All, as I had appointed thee. 

And now, if any demand, where these Aurdj^Hf, 
these constitutions Apostolical, are to be found ; 

* Sec Mr. Hooker's Prcfocc. 



I shall not send them to Clemens's book, that 
bears that name, but to the Universal Practice of 
the Ancient Church, in which they are still in 
great part visible; and thence handed over to 
posterity by tradition and conformity of practice, 
and by degrees inserted into the canons of the 
old councils, as occasion was offered, and into the 
ordinals of several churches. Or, if a readier 
and more present answer be required, I know not 
where to design it you nearer at hand, or more 
full to your satisfaction, than by dismissing you, 
to attend the great action that is to follow. In 
which you will see all so grave and solemn, so 
pious and devout, so primitive and apostolical, 
and so exactly up to the level of the text, and the 
'llf iyi iitra^diAfty of St, Paul here, that I know 
not where to point you out so pregnant and full a 
comment upon my text, nor what better amends 
to make you for my own failings upon it. 

And yet, having thus hastily run it over, with 
all its parts and branches, (some few sands stiU 
remaining of that heap, the bounty of your pa- 
tience allows me,) I will crave leave briefly to 
take a second view of it in the auditory itself, 
and read it over again in the face of the assembly. 
For the better part of it, your own thoughts have 
already prevented me ; and every eye hath singled 
out our most Reverend Titus, yvuVtov ratyo^, a genuine 
son and successor of the Apostles, upon the very 
act of constituting Ylpia-^urifH^ noli Waiv, more than 
a whole province of Elders at once : Men able to 


abide> and pass with honour the dreadful test that 
follows upon my text, as being both for life 
blameless, sober, just, holy, temperate ; and in 
doctrine sound, holding fast the faithful word, as 
they have been taught; notwithstanding all the 
discouragements they have met with, from the 
sad condition of our common mother. 

But then for the rest; I wish it were not so easy 
a task, to find Crete in England, with all its wants 
and all its amisses. For, to say nothing of those 
more innocent, and less important resemblances, 
in which we symbolize ; (both islands lying in a 
kind of * trigon betwixt three points, or promon- 
tories ; both styled the Happy Islands by ancient 
writers, MaxapoVno-oc, f and Insula Fortunata.^ for 
the temper of the air, and fertility of the soil ; 
both denominated from those white and ^chalky 
cliffs, which bound them on one side,|| Candia h 
CandidiSy as Albion ab albis rupibus^ both famous 
for their just laws, and ours no less to be valued, 
than those of Rhadamanthus and Minos, (had we 
but the wisdom to comport ourselves to the obe- 
dience of them as we ought:) I say, to let all 
this pass, I wish we had not too much of Crete 
amongst us, whether morally considered, in re- 
gard of their vices, or historically, in regard of 
their imperfect condition. 

* Magin. pag. 182. 38. t Solin. cap. 17. 

{ Camd. Brit. pag. 3. ex Lycoph. Cassand. 

§ Crete, ab Insula Crete, ubi melior est. Isidor. lib. 16. cap. 1. 

II Magin. pag. 182. 38. 



I would not be mistaken, as one that delights 
to libel a whole nation at once (especially mine 
own); but St. Chrysostom hath dressed an apo- 
logy for St. Paul in this particular, by distin- 
guishing, * OJ;^ ujSpinx! riro f(0«f, dxxi iftilixi. He 

did it not to injure any, but out of kindness and 
pure love to reform them: just as our blessed 
Lord fAvpla ixoiiopurof saith the same Father, a 
thousand times reproached the Scribes and Pha- 
risees ; not because they had wronged him, but 
lest they should harm and destroy others. And 
so St. Paul, with the same affections about him, 
cries, -f O insensati Galatct! to one church : Are 
you such fools? And hare. 

That poet was, I think, a prophet indeed, 
(otherwise than St. Paul meant him,) and sang of 
us too : and in that verse the present age may see 
its face, and blush. I appeal to your better ob- 
servation, if we have not outvied the very Cretans 
themselves in the first particular ; and in a worse 
kind too lied for God's sake, and ^ talked deceit- 
fully for him. What pious frauds and holy cheats ? 
What slandering the footsteps of Grod's anointed, 
when the interest was to blacken him? What 
false accusing of our brethren, aye, and of our 
fathers too? That we might devour the man 

* In Tit. Horn. 1 . f Gal. iii. 1 . 

t Vcr. 12. § Job.xiii.7. 

S£RMONS. 343 

more righteous than ourselves ? Pliny* hath ob- 
served it. Nullum animal maleficum in Cretd ; and 
Solinust adds. Nee ulla serpens : but they should 
have excepted the inhabitants ; for they were x*- 
%oi !^f\(la, (and X this witness, I am sure, is true ;) 
not only evil beasts, as we translate it, but venom- 
ous too : and I wish there were no other island 
could show vipers too many, that have eat out the 
bowels of their common mother, and flown in the 
face of their political father, without whose be- 
nigner influence their chill and benummed for- 
tunes had not warmth enough to raise them to so 
bold an attempt. It is unwillingly that I go on 
to the rest of that character ; but your own expe- 
rience shall justify me, if I say that the yanfif 
<i(ya\ that remains hath been since exemplified in 
some other sense ; and our idleness, and fulness 
of bread, those sins of Sodom, have, I fear, long 
since, proclaimed it to our faces. And now I 
cannot wonder, if it be observed from the records 
of history, (as ^ Grotius assures us, who knew 
them well,) that the Cretans were (and I wish 
there were no other snich) a mutinous and a sedi- 
tious people ; and had but too much need to be 
put in mind by Titus, to be subject to principali- 
ties and powers, and to obey magistrates : For || 
the men of Shechem eat and drink, and (then most 
naturally go on to) curse Abimelech ; (aye, and 

* Lib. 8. cap. 58. t Cap. 17. 

t Ver. 13. § InTit.iii. 1. 

II Jud. ix. 27. 



David, they would have done, had they lived in 
his time, and the flagon held out) for when our 
bellies and our heads are full, then wo be to our 
governors; and wealth, and ease, and having 
nothing to do, make us ripe for any thmg that is 
eviL There were, amongst the new converts of 
Crete, some false brethren * of the circumcision ; 
for the stopping of whose mouths, as some have 
thought, and St. Chrysostom amongst the rest, St. 
Paul in chief designed this epistle. And I should 
be glad to be assured, that there are not some 
amongst us, who, though they love not to bleed, 
yet, I am afraid, are too prone to Judaize in some 
other instance, and to retrieve some other part of 
the Mosaical Paedagogue, which, perhaps, suits no 
better with that f liberty, to which Christ our 
Lord hath called us, and in which we ought to 
stand fast. It is with much reluctance (could I 
baulk it so full in my way) that I show you the 
Cretan labyrinth, that not long since, I am sure, 
was amongst us (God grant it be not still), that 
inextricable and endless maze of errors and here* 
sies, that every day opened itself into new paths 
and alleys : dividing, and subdividing into never 
ending mistakes, till they had abased, and almost 
destroyed religion with abominable heterogeneous 
mixtures, and left the little semblance of Christi- 
anity was left amongst them, an hideous monster, 
or Minotaur, SemibovSmque virum, Semvirumque 

* Jud. ix. V. 10. t Gal. V. 1. 


bovem: — ^Jerusalem and Rome, party per pale; 
with Geneva and Cracovia, if you will have it 
quarterly; aye, and Mecca too, I fear, in chief, to 
embellish the scutcheon. 

But, is there no Theseus, no generous Hero, to 
attack this monster ? No courteous and charitable 
Ariadne that will lend a clue, and help us to disen- 
tangle the ruffled scain, and to evade these perplex- 
ed wanderings ? Hath our Crete no Dictamnus in 
it to expel the arrow which so long hath galled our 
sides ? No counter-poison for so many mischiefs ? 
Or rather, in the prophetical scheme, * Is there no 
balm in Gilead ? Is there no physician there ? Yes, 
there is ; and, therefore, let us hope well of the 
healing of the wounds of the daughter of our 
people, since they are under the cure of those 
very hands, upon which God hath entailed a mira- 
culous gift of healing, as if it were on purpose to 
raise up our hopes into some confidence that we 
shall owe one day to those sacred hands, next 
under God, the healing of the Church's and the 
people's evils, as well as of the king's. Blessed 
for ever be that God who hath restored us such a 
gracious sovereign, to be the t repairer of the 
breach, and the nursing father of his church : and 
hath put it into the king's heart to appoint Titus, 
as this day, to ordain Elders for every city, to 
supply all that is wanting, and to correct what- 
ever is amiss. Blessed are our eyes, for they see 

* Jer. viu. 22. t Isa. Iviu. 12. 


that which many a righteous man (more righteous 
than we) desired so much to see, and hath not 
seen it. And blessed be this day,* (let God re- 
gard it from above, and a more than common 
light shine upon it 1) in which we see the PhcBnix 
arising from her funeral pile, and taking wing 
again ; our Holy Mother, the Church, standing 
up from the dust and ruins in which she sate so 
long, taking f beauty again for ashes, and the 
garments of praise for the spirit of heaviness ; re- 
mounting the episcopal throne, bearing the keys 
of the kingdom of Heaven with her, and armed 
(we hope) with the rod of discipline ; her hands 
spread abroad, to bless, and to ordain, to confim 
the weak, and to reconcile the penitent; her 
breasts flowing with the sincere milk of the word; 
and girt with a golden girdle under the paps, 
tying up all by a meet limitation and restriction 
to primitive patterns, and prescripts Apostoli- 
cal. A sight so venerable and august, that, me- 
thinks, it should at once strike love and fear into 
every beholder, and an awful veneration. I may 
confidently say it. It was never well with us, 
since we strayed from the due reverence we ought 
to Heaven and her ; and it is strange we should 
no sooner observe it, but run a maddening after 
other lovers, that ruined us, till God ^ hedged in 
our way with thorns, that we could no longer find 
them, and then we said, I will go, and return to 

* Job. iii. 4. t Isa. Ixi. 3. J Hos. ii. 6, 7. 


my former husband ; for then wa^ it better with 
me than now. 

Well ; blest be the mercies of God, we are at 
last returned, and Titus is come back into Crete ; 
and there are Elders ordaining for every city. 
But, hie Rhodus, hie Saltus. Reverend father, this 
is your Crete, adorn it as you can. The province 
is hard, and the task weighty and formidable, even 
to an angeFs shoulders. That we mistake not, 
Titus was not left behind in Crete to take his 
ease, or to sleep out the storm which soon after 
overtook St. Paul at sea ; he might well expect a 
worse at land (naufragium terrestre) and a more 
tempestuous Euroclydon. Believe it, a bishop s 
robe is * Tunica molesta (as the t martyr's pitched 
coat was called of old), and sits, perhaps, more 
uneasy upon the shoulders. The mitre is not 
"Ofxn 7«Xf«, to render invisible or invulnerable; 
but rather exposeth to enemies. The rotchet and 
the surplice, emblems of innocence indeed, but 
marks of envy too : and it is in those whites, that 
malice sticks all her darts. And, therefore, St. 
Paul was fain to intreat Timothy into this dig- 
i^ty ; \ For this cause besought I thee^ to abide at 
Ephesus: for there were beasts to be fought with 
there; and the Apostle had tried them, ^both 
tooth and paw. So that I cannot wonder if our 
Bishops say, nolo episcopari, in good earnest ; and 

* Tunicd punire molestd^ Juvenal. Sat. 8. 

t Vide Baron. Tom. 1 . Ann. 66» n. 4. 

J 1 Tim. i. 3. § 1 Cor. xv. 32. 


if any of our * Zarahs thrust forth a hasty hand, 
and be laid hold on, and the scarlet thread cast 
about his finger, it is not strange if he draw back 
his hand, and refuse the primogeniture ; choosing 
rather to lye hid in obscurity, qu^ vinctus jmr- 
purd progredi, as the great Cardinal f wittily al- 
ludes. As in Crete new founded, so in England 
new restored, there must needs be many things 
wanting, and much amiss, not so easily to be sup- 
plied or amended. 

When the Lord turned again the captivity of 
Sion, they made their thankful acknowledgments, 
and said in the Psalm, % The Lord hath done 
great things for us already, whereof we will be 
glad. But then it follows immediately in the 
next verse, § Turn again our captivity, O Lord, as 
the rivers in the south. It seems their captivity 
(I am sure ours) is still to turn again, even after 
it is returned. For there are relics of it still be- 
hind, and the sad effects remain, (an age will 
hardly be able to efface them ;) and, which is the 
saddest of all, we are still, I fear, in captivity to 
the same sins that occasioned that ; and they are 
able to bring upon us ten thousand captivities, 
worse than the former. Plainly, there are riddles 
in our condition, (and whose heifer shall we plow 
with II to unfold them ?) Returned and not re- 
turned : Restored, and yet not so fully restored : 

* Genes, xxxviii. 28, 29. 

t Baron. Epist. ad Papam Clem. viii. T. 7. 

I Psal. cxxvi. 3. § Ver. 4. || Judg. xiv. J 8. 


— in fine, with them in the Psalm, * We are like 
to them that dream. With St. Peter, t the good 
Angel hath roused us, indeed, and our chains are 
fallen off; we have bound on our sandals, and 
begin to find our legs again ; and we are past the 
first and the second ward; but, methinks, the 
iron gate that leads to the city is not over apt to 
open to us of its own accord, so that we wist not 
well, if it be true and real, that is done by the 
Angel ; still apt to think we see a vision ; still like 
to them that dream. We have Jerusalem (it is 
true) and the Hill of Sion in our eyes : yet many 
look back to Babel, and multitudes sit captives 
still by those waters, increasing them with their 
tears. If any have taken down their harps from 
those willows, they are not strung, nor well in 
tune ; and we scarce find how to sing the Lord's 
songs, even in our own land. 

And, therefore, let me advise you now, in the 
close of all ; give not over, but ply your devotions 
still ; and whenever you sing in corwertendo Domi- 
nus, in the midst of those doxologies, forget not 
to insert one versicle of petition, Converte, Domme, 
converte: turn again what remains of our capti- 
vity, and perfect our faint beginnings. Aye, that's 
the way, if we would succeed ; Vota dabunt, qme 
bella negdrunt. For God will hear the prayers of 
his church, especially for his church ; as he did 
those of David, Psal. cxxxii. ^Let thy priests be 

* PsaL cxxvi. 1. t Act. xii. 7, &c. J Vcr. 9. 


clothed with righteousness, that is the petition : 
and what saith the answer of Grod a fev^ verses 
after. * (I myself) will clothe her priests — (with 
righteousness ? Aye, and) with salvation (too)— 
Let the saints shout for joy, saith the Psalmist : 
her saints, saith God, shall shout aloud for joy : 
so that there is more granted in both parts than 
was asked. St. Paul knew well that this was the 
method ; and, therefore, before he took forth his 
son Titus, the great lesson of my text, he first im- 
parts his Apostolical benediction, f ' To Titus, 
mine own son, grace, and mercy, and peace from 
God the father, and the Lord Jesus Christ, our 
Saviour.' St. Chrysostom and Theophylact have 
observed it to my hand, that he bestows upon so 
great a bishop the same common blessing that be 
is wont to give to all, (Toir voxxorr, xa) tomt Ihurmt,) 
grace, and mercy, and peace : aye, and no man, 
as they go on, hath more need of it than he. Not 
of grace ; for who hath more burthens to bear ? 
more difficulties to go through with? Not of 
mercy; for who in greater danger of offending 
either God or man? Not of peace; having so 
many enemies on all sides, and so many troubles 
of every sort. Only J St. Jerome adds, that here 
is no muUipliciter, as in other § apprecations. 
Common Christians may have their peace multi- 
plied. Peace within, and peace without ; peace 
with God, and peace with men, too ; but Titus's 

* Act. xii. V. 16. t Ver. 4. 

t In locum. § 1 Pet. i. 2. 2 Pet. i. 2. 


peace is sine multiplicatiane. The bishops, and 
governors of the church must look for none, but 
peace with Heaven and their own consciences; 
(and for that single pearl, * like wise merchants, 
they sell all that they have;) as for the rest, 
"'Ej^uAiif fAcixjen, t that is their lot, and that is their 
motto too : they must look for fightings without. 
St. Paul, in that divine valedictory to the bishops 
of the province of Ephesus, (Act. xx.) though, as 
he saith, for the space of three years together he 
had not ceased to warn every one of them, night 
and day, with tears, (as knowing well both the 
burthen and the dangej they stood under ;) yet (a 
tender affection having never said enough) he re- 
sumes the argument, (verse 8.) * Take heed to 
yourselves, and to all the flock ; for I know, that, 
after my departing, shall grievous wolves enter in 
amongst you (Ajxoi |S«ffrr, he had almost said 
AuxairO^Mroi, \ mankind wolves,) that will neither 
spare the flock nor you ; but, by a witty and com- 
pendious malice, attack the shepherd first, that 
the sheep may be scattered, and so gleaned up at 
leisure. And, therefore, take heed to yourselves 
in the first place, in whose welfare that of the 
flock is so closely bound up.' And yet, after all 
these caveats, and very seasonable advertisements, 
he canpot yet believe them safe, unless he leaves 
them under a better guard than his or their own : 
and, therefore, in fine, he kneels down and prays 

* Matt. xiii. 46. t 2 Cor. vii. 5. 

t Wcd-Wolvcs, Loops-garons. 


with them, and for them all, recommending them 
to Grod and to the word of his grace. And I know 
not where better to leave you, than in the prac- 
tice and actual exercise of a duty so fairly recom- 
mended ; and .shall, therefore, desire you to turn 
your wearied eyes from me and lift them up to 
Heaven, (from whence every good and perfect 
gift descends,) to seek from thence the smoothing 
of all difficulties, the solving of all doubts, the 
calming of all animosities, and the uniting of all 
affections : and to beg of that Father of Mercies, 
and God of all Consolations, that he will (every 
day more and more) turn again our captivity, like 
the rivers in the south ; that they who sow in 
tears may reap in joy : that he would send forth 
his good spirit to move upon the waters of our 
Massah and Meribah, to digest that chaos and 
confusion, and strife of opinions into one beautiful 
and harmonious composure ; and, finally, that he, 
who, by the hand of his holy Apostle, founded 
this Church of Crete in Titus and his Elders, in a 
meet and decent imparity and subordination, 
would maintain his own ordinance amongst us 
also, and justify his institutions to the utmost 
against all gainsayers ; that the Rod of Aaron may 
again bud and blossom, and bring forth fruit 
amongst us ; that his Urim and his Thummin may 
be with his holy ones ; that he would bless their 
substance, and accept the work of their hands, 
and smite through the loins of them that hate 
them, that they rise not again : that so there may 


never want a fiuccession of holy bishops and 
priests to shine as lights in the world, holding 
forth the word of life; till we all come in the 
unity of the faith, and of the knowledge of the Son 
of God, unto that perfection and fulness of the 
everlasting kingdom : to the which, God in mercy 
bring us all, through the merits of his dear Son. 
To which most blessed Father and Son, with 
God the Holy Ghost, be ascribed by all the 
creatures in Heaven and Earth, blessing, honour, 
glory, and power, both now and for evermore. 








When thy Judgments are in the Earth, the Inhabitants of the 

World xoill learn Bighteoutness, — Isaiah xxvi. ver. 9. 

This chapter with the two next before, and that 
which follows, are all four parts of the same pro- 
phetic sermon, (as appears by those words so 
often repeated in them, In that day, fixing and 
determining all to the same epoch and period of 
time,) belong all to the same subject matter, sc. 
the destruction of Judah and Jerusalem, whether 
by the Babylonians, or Romans, or both. So 
that the earth (or as we may rather translate, the 
land, or the country) wasted, and utterly spoiled 
and turned upside down, Chap. xxiv. ver. 1 and 3, 
is doubtless the land of Jewry: and the world 
that languisheth, and fadeth away, ver. 4. of that 
chapter, not much wider ; that, and the neigh- 
bouring regions, with whom the Jews had com- 

A A 2 


merce and intercourse of peace and war, Moab, 
and Egypt and Babylon, in a word, the Jewish 
world;* (for so both the Hebrew and Greek 
words usually translated the Earth and the 
World, are often in Scripture-language contracted 
and limited by the matter in hand) : and, conse- 
quently, the City of Confusion, which is broken 
down, a city turned chaos agam, as the Hebrew 
imports. Chap. xxiv. 10; — the city turned into a 
heap, or a ruin ; nay, in tumulum, as the vulgar 
Latin, or iU x^P^' ^ LXX. translate it, into one 
great sepulchre to itself, buried in its own rub- 
bish. Chap. XXV. 2; — the lofty city laid low, even 
to the ground, and abased in the very dust. Chap, 
xxvi. 5 ; — the city desolate and forsaken, and left 
wilderness and desert all over. Chap, xxvii. 10. 
are but so many variations of the phrase, and sig- 
nify all the same thing, the burning of Jerusalem 
by Nebuchadnezzar, or Titus, or (as some will 
have it) by both. 

This sad devastation the Prophet first beholds 
in speculo praphetico, sees it from far in his pro- 
phetic telescope, as clearly and distinctly as if it 
were before his eyes, and describes it here and 
there the whole sermon throughout, but chiefly, 
Chap. xxiv. in so lofty a language, that many 
have mistaken it for the end of the world, and 
the consummation of all things. But then, to 
sweeten so sad a theme, he assures them, it shall 


not be a na^wXiOf la, God will not make a final end 
now : no, * a remnant shall be left, as the shaking 
of an olive-tree, and as the gleaning grapes, when 
the vintage is done;' Chap. xxiv. 13. Nor shall 
they be only preserved, but restored too : * The 
Lord God will in time wipe away every tear from 
off all faces, and at last swallow up this death too 
in victory ;' Chap. xxv. 8. He will turn their cap- 
tivities, and rebuild their city and their temple 
too ; and all this shall be as it were * Life from 
the dead, as the Apostle calls it, so miraculous a 
re-establishment, at a juncture so improbable, 
when they are destroyed out of all ken of reco- 
very, that it shall be a kind of resurrection ; and 
so like the great one, that it is described t in the 
very proper phrases of that, both by the other 
prophets and by ours too a little below the text, J 
' Thy dead shall live again ; my dead bodies shall 
arise : Awake and sing, ye that dwell in the dust, 
&c.' And then (which is of nearest concern to 
us, and to our present business) the Prophet 
directs the remnant that should escape how to 
behave themselves under so great a desolation ; 
and he contrives his directions into a threefold 
song (that they may be the better remarked and 
remembered) tuned and fitted to the three great 
moments of the event. 

The first, to the time of the ruin itself. Chap, 
xxiv. where, having set before their eyes the sad 

* Rom. xi. 17. t Ezek. xxxvii. Dan. xii. 

X Vcr. 19. 

A A 3 


prospect of the holy city, and house of God in 
flames ; When thus it shall be in the midst of the 
land, saith he, there shall be a remnant, and they 
shall lift up their voice, and sing for the Majesty 
of the Lord, saying. Glorify ye the Lord in the 
fires, (verse 15.) And this is n^nn "W a song of 

The second, is ^^^ ^^ a song of degrees or 
ascensions, fitted to the time of their return, when 
all shall be restored and rebuilt again ; and that 
we have. Chap, xxvii. 2. ' In that day sing ye 
unto her ; A vineyard of red wine : I the Lord 
do keep it; I will water it every moment; lest 
any hurt it, I will keep it night and day.' 

The third, (of which my text is a principal 
strain,) belongs to the whole middle interval be- 
tween the ruin and the restoration, in this tweny- 
sixth Chapter. * In that day shall this Song be 
sung in the land of Judah : We have a strong city; 
Salvation will God appoint for walls and bul- 
warks, &c.' As if he had said, though our city 
be ruined, yet God is still our dwelling place ; 
our fortresses dismantled, &nd thrown down, but 
salvation will he appoint us for walls and bul- 
warks ; our temples in the dust, but God will be 
to us himself *as a little sanctuary. And this 
is ^yoD IW a song to give instruction, teaching 
them, and in them us, how to demean ourselves 
while the calamity lies upon us ; sc. to make God 
our Refuge, ver. 4 ; to wait for him in the way of his 

* Ezek. xi. 16. 


Judgments, yen 8. — and in this, ver. 9. earnestly 
to desire him from the very soul in the night (in 
the darkest and blackest of the affliction,) to seek 
him early, when it begins to dawn towards a 
better condition ; and, in the mean time, as it is 
in the text, to improve all this severe discipline, 
as he intends it, for the advancing us in the know- 
ledge of Him, and of ourselves, and of our whole 
duty; For when thy Judgments are in the Earth, 
the Inhabitants of the World will learn Righteous- 

A text, you see, that supposeth judgments in 
the earth, or upon a land, (as its occasions) and 
so suitable to our sad condition : a text, too, that 
proposeth our learning as its end and design, and 
so suitable (one would think) to our inclination 
too. The character and genius of the age we live 
in is learned : the pretence at this day so high, 
and so universal, that he is nobody now, who 
hath not a new system of the world, a new hy- 
pothesis in nature, a new model of government, a 
new scheme of Grod's decrees, and the greatest 
depths in theology. We are many of us acute 
philosophers (that must not be disputed us); most 
of us grand politics and statesmen too ; all of us 

(without exception) deep divines: will needs 

be wiser than our neighbours, but however wiser 
than our teachers and governors, if not wiser than 
God himself. A kind of moral rickets, that 
swells and puffs up the head, while the whole 
inner man of the heart wastes and dwindles. For 

A A 4 



like the * silly women, disciples to the old Gnos- 
tics, while we are thus ever learning, (pretending 
to great heights and proficiencies) we come never 
to the knowledge of the truth (the Truth which 
is according unto Godliness) : in fine, amongst so 
many learners, they are but few that learn righte- 
ousness: — And, therefore, (jod himself here opens 
us a school ; erects a severe discipline in the text; 
brings forth his feridas when nothing else will serve 
the turn. For he hath indeed four schools, or 
rather four distinct forms and classes in the same 
great school of righteousness ; the last only (that 
of his judgments) expressed in the text, but the 
rest too supposed at least, or covertly implied. 

For whether we look upon the latter clause of 
the proposition, The Inhabitants of the World will 
learn,— we find ourselves there under a double 
formality; as learners, and as inhabiters. As 
learners first, and so endued with faculties of rea- 
son ; powers of a soul capable of learning what is 
to be learned ; stamped and possessed with first 
principles, and conunon notions, which, deeply 
searched and duly improved and cultivated, might 
teach us much of righteousness : and this is Schola 
Cordis in domo interioriy the school of the heart, 
God s first school in the little world within us. 
Secondly, as inhabitants of the great world, which 
is God's school too, as well as his temple, full of 
doctrines and instructions ; Schola Orbis, in which 
He takes us forth continual lessons of righteous- 

♦ 2 TiDi. iii. 6, 7. 


ness. — Seque ipsum inculcate et offert, ut bene cog- 
nosci possit ; and that both from the natural world * 
and from the political, whether Schola Regni, or 
Schola Ecclesia. Or, if we return to the former 
branch of the text. When thy Judgments are in the 
Earth. This wheji they are, suppose th another 
time, when they are not in the earth, and * that 
time is the time of love (as the Prophet speaks), 
the season of mercy. So that, thirdly, here is 
Schola Misericordiarum, the school of God's tender 
mercies inviting us, gently leading, and t drawing 
us with the cords of a man, with the bands of 
love. And lastly, when nothing else will serve, 
here is Schola Judiciorum, the school of God's 
severe Judgments, driving us to repentance, and 
compelling us to come in and learn righteousness. 
A provision (you see) every way sufficient, and 
abundant for our learning, .were not we wanting 
to ourselves. 

But alas! we may run by the text, and easily 
read in it these three things, as so many very na- 
tural deductions and emanations from it. First, 
our own ignorance and stupidity; J Born like a 
wild asss colt, as Zophar speaks; and then to 
our natural, we add affected ignorance too : so 
that we are much to seek, and to learn righteous- 
ness it must be taught us. Secondly, God's infi- 
nite and inexpressible grace and mercy to us; 
that when we had blurred the original, defaced 
the first traces of righteousness upon our souls, 

* Ezck. xvi. 8. t Hos. xi. 4. J Job. xi. I. 


He was pleased to provide expedients to teadi it 
us again the second time, that we might be ^le- 
newed unto knowledge after the image of Him 
that created us in righteousness, as the Apostle 
speaks. And thirdly, our indocible and unteach- 
able humour, our foul and shameful noDrprofi- 
ciency under so plentiful a grace. For though the 
text speaks of our learning righteousness, when 
Grod's judgments are upon us; yet (if the appear- 
ances of the world abroad su^ested nothing to 
the contrary) it is introduced here in the text too, 
as the effect of the last form in God^s school, in 
exclusion of all the former as ineffectual; his 
utmost method not to be used but at a pindi, 
when all the rest are baffled, and prove im- 
prosperous upon us. And then it is expressed io 
the original, and learned versions, with so many 
limitations and abatements (as we shall see by 
and by), that we may well give it up as the sum 
and upshot of all, that our All-merciful Grod omits 
no means or methods of our improvement ; hot 
we (supinely negligent, and prodigiously stubborn 
as we are) render them all ineffectual. 

That we may do so no longer, but rather make 
good the profession, with which we have dared to 
appear this day before God, of humbling our- 
selves under his Almighty Hand ; let us, before 
we pass on any further, lift up our hands and 
our hearts to Him in the Heavens, beseeching 
him by the power of his mighty Grace so to sanc- 

♦ Col. iii. 10. Ephcs. iv. 24. 


tify to us all, both the sense of his present judg- 
ment, and all our meditations and discourses 
thereupon, that by all we may be promoted in 
learning righteousness. 

The Inhabitants of the World will learn Righte- 
ousness or Justice: What is that? Is there such a 
thing in the world? Or is it a name only, and a 
glorious pretence ? Is it not only another word for 
interest or utility, and so nothing just but what is 
profitable; ^Cameades's infamous assertion re- 
trieved and owned with open face by Christians ? 
Is it not the taking of a party, or the espousing 
of a faction, and appearing for it with heat and 
animosity; and a savage condemning and destroy- 
ing all that are not of it? Is it not the profession 
to believe such a system of opinions, what life so- 
ever is consequent thereupon? An airy invisible 
righteousness, that never embodies or appears in 
our actions, but hovers in the clouds, in specula- 
tions and fancies, where no man can find it? 

The truth is, there is no piece of unrighteous- 
ness more common in the world than .thus to 
weigh justice itself in an unjust balance ; while 
every one contrives his hypothesis, so as to salve 
the phoenomena, so declares his notion, as may best 
suit and comport with his own unrighteous prac- 
tices. But the righteousness we are td learn in 
God'fl school, must not be a self-chosen righteous- 
ness : we must not pay God our Sovereign the 
tribute of our obedience in coin of our own stamp- 

* V. Lactant. lib. v. 


ing ; it must be such as will abide the touchstone 
of his Word, and the balance of his Sanctuary. 
To make short, righteousness or justice, though 
elsewhere a single virtue, yet here it is virtually 
all: — SuXAi)j3^y iffoifF i^iTTi n, and, said the Prophet, 
and the philosopher after him, 'Ou i^i^oq dpi-nig, oxx* 
oAii dpirv cnv^ not a part, but all virtue : and so 
often, both in Scripture and the Fathers, compre- 
hensively all religion, the whole duty of man,* il 
tSv iuloXuv cxxs'AiifttO'K, saith St. Chrysostom : Omnes 
Virtutum species uno Justitus nomine, saith St. 
Jerome. Not a particular star, nor a single con- 
stellation, but a whole heaven of virtues, an en- 
tire globe of moral and Christian perfections ; an 
universal rectitude of the will, conforming us in 
all points to God's righteous law, the t rule of our 
righteousness, or if you will in two words, it is 
Suum cuique, to give every one his due ; Suum Deo 
first, and then Suum proximo; give God his due, 
and your neighbour too : these are the integral 
parts of it. So that righteousness, as the great 
rule of it, hath two tables, or, if you will, two 
hemispheres, the upper and the nether : both so 
vast, that we cannot measure them in a span (the 
span of time allotted me ;) I shall therefore con- 
tract them to the occasion, and give you only some 
of those particular lessons of righteousness, which 
this present judgment of God upon our land seems 
most clearly to take us forth, both into relation 
to God himself, and to our neighbours; and then 

* Theogn. Ethic v. f Horn. 12. in St. Matth. 


call you and myself to a serious scrutiny, how 
well we have learned them, and so an end. 

And first, we begin (as we ought) in giving God 
his due ; in rendering to God the things that are 
God's. To limit this wide universality too, and 
render it more proper and peculiar, we may re- 
duce all to that first of Isaiah's three Songs men- 
tioned at the beginning, '^Glorify ye the Lord in 
the Fires; giving him upon this sad occasion the 
glory of that great Trinity of his Attributes the 
Glory of his Power and Majesty ; the Glory of his 
Justice and Equity; the Glory of his Goodness and 

Give him the Glory of his Power and Greatness ; 
which the Prophet calls ^ Singing for the Majesty 
of the Lord,' Chap. xxiv. 15. or * Beholding the 
Majesty of the Lord, when his hand is lifted up,' 
in the verse after my text. How great and glori- 
ous our God is, who is in himself incomprehensi- 
ble, appears best by the glorious greatness of his 
works. If he builds, it is a world, heaven and 
earth, and the fulness of both. If he gives, it is 
his only Son out of his bosom, the brightness of 
his glory, and the express image of his person. 
If he rewards, it is a crown, it is a whole heaven 
of glories. If he be angry, he sends a deluge ; 
opens the cataracts of heaven above, and breaks 
up the fountains of the great deep below, and 
pours forth whole floods of vengeance : f Or else 
he rains down hell out of heaven, and in a mo- 

* Chap. xxiv. )5. t Salvian. 


ment turns a land like a garden of God into a 
dead sea, and a lake of brimstone. If he dis- 
cover himself by any overt expression of his 
power, though the intention be mere mercy and 
loving kindness^ mortality shrinks from it, and 
cannot bear it. When his glory descends on 
Mount Sinai, the people remove, and stand afar 
off, and — ** Let not God speak with us (say they) 
lest we die': and -j* * Depart from me, O Lord,'saith 
St. Peter, amazed at that miraculous draught of 
fishes. How much more should the inhabitants of 
the world tremble before him, when his great and 
sore judgments are in the earth : JTremble,- thou 
earth, at the presence of God (saith the Psalmist) 
even when he improves the hard rock into a 
springing well : much more when ^a fruitful land 
he turns into barrenness, or a stately city into 
ashes, for the wickedness of them that dwell 
therein. || I am horribly afraid, saith David, for 
the ungodly that forsake thy law; and ^ I ex- 
ceedingly fear and quake, said Moses, at the 
giving of it: but when our Lord shall come 
again to require it, ** The powers of Heaven shall 
be shaken too; the Angels themselves, (as St. 
Chrysostom interprets) though pure and innocent 
creatures, shall tremble (9f »2»«'0 tt to see the se- 
verity of that judgment. How much rather ought 
we, wretched creatures that we are, conscious to 


* Ex. XX. 18, 19. t Luc. V. ii. J Psm. cxiv. 7, 8. 

§ Psm. cvii. 34. || Psm. cxix. 53. ^ Hebr. xii. 21. 

** Matt. xxiT. 29. ft Horn. 77. in Matth. 

S£RMONS. 367 

ourselves of dust and sin, to tremble and quake 
at the wrath of this dread Lord of the universe ; 
at whose voice alone, the great emperor Caligula* 
runs under the bed; and the mighty Belshazzar st 
loins are loosed, and his knees knock one against 
another, when God but writes bitter things against 
him on the wall. 

It were a vain affectation, to attempt a descrip- 
tion of the greatness of our late horrible devasta- 
tion. This were to be Ambitiosus in malU, to 
chew over all our wormwood and our gall again : 
this were Rogitm ascipolire, which the xii tables 
forbad, to carve and paint the wood of our fune- 
ral pile. I shall only call back your thoughts to 
stand with me upon the prospect of that horrid 
theatre of the Divine judgments, and say, :|:Come 
hither, and behold the Works of the Lord, what 
desolation he hath made in the earth ; — and then 
who will not join with me to say, upon so coa- 
vincing an occasion. We humble ourselves under 
the Almighty Hand of God, the Lord of all the 
world ; we adore his Power and Majesty in lowly 
prostrations ; before whom all the nations of the 
world are as a §drop of the bucket; the globe of 
the earth, as the small dust of the balance ; and 
who taketh up the isles (even our Great Britain's 
too, as we call them) as a very little thing. 
II Great and marvellous are thy Works, O Lord 
God Almighty! Who would not fear thee, and 

* Sueton. 1. V. n. 51. t Dan. v. 6. X ^^oi, xlvi. 8. 

k Isa. xl. 15. II Apoc. XV. 3^ 4. 


glorify thy name, when thy judgments are thus 
manifest? Thou hast brought them down that 
dwell on high, and laid the lofty city low, even 
to the ground; the joyous city of our solem- 
nities, the royal chamber, the emporium of the 
world, the mart of nations, the very top-gallant of 
all our glory, in the dust. *Even so. Holy Fa- 
ther, for so it seemed good in thy sight. We 
say not to our God, What doest thou ? Wherefore 
hath the Lord done thus to this great city? We 
reply not, — we answer not again : The Lord hath 
spoken ; let all the earth keep silence before him. 
We acknowledge thy Hand in it, O our Grod ; we 
submit to thy good pleasure in it ; we wait for 
thy comfort, and thy salvation in it. We meekly 
kiss the rod that strikes us : f with dying Jacob 
we desire to worship iv\ ro axpoy rife fciC^B, with 
perfect resignation, as we are able, leaning and 
reposing upon the top of this thy severe rod. 
For J shall we receive good at the hand of our 
God, and shall we not receive evil? It is the same 
blessed hand that distributes and strikes; and 
with equal reverence and affection we adore it, 
whether he opens it wide in bounty, or contracts 
it close in severity : the one the Divine rhetoric 
to persuade us to learn righteousness, the other 
his more irrefragable logic, to convince and con- 
strain us. And, therefore, we charge not our 
Maker foolishly ; but meekly accept the punish- 
ment of our iniquity. And having thus adored 

* Matt. xi. 26. t Heb. xi. 21 . t Job, ii. 10. 

3EUMONS4 36d 

his Power (which was the first) we go on in the 
next place to acknowledge his Justice too ; say- 
ing, with Holy David, *Righteous art thou, O 
Lord, and just are thy Judgments : — ^The second 
part of God's due. 

Give him the glory of his Justice, also ; and, if 
you learn no other righteousness in his school, at 
least learn this, and frankly confess it too. For 
though God's judgments may be secret, yet they 
cannot be unjust: fLike the great deep, indeed, 
an abyss unfathomable : but, though we have no 
plumb-line of reason that can reach it> our faith 
assures us, there is justice at the bottom. ^ Clouds 
and darkness are round about him, saith the 
Psalmist ; but, as it follows. Righteousness and 
Judgment are the habitation of his throne: so 
much we may easily discern through all the veils 
and curtains that envelop him, that justice stands 
always fast by his judgment seat. And, therefore, 
though it be a nice and a delicate point to assign 
the particular sins, for which God hath thus sorely 
afflicted us; yet must we declare (as we are war- 
ranted by sacred authority) § That God hath laid 
his heavy Judgment upon us all, as an evidence 
of his displeasure for our sins in general. 

Not to engage in that common theme; we may 
clear it a little by the light of our own fires (the par- 
ticular instrument of our calamity) in two or three 
reflections upon that. God spake his righteous 

♦ Psm.cxix. 137. t Psm.xxxvi. 6. 

X Ftm, xcvii* 2. § The King's Dedaration. 



law at first out of the midst of the fire» Exod. 
xix. 18. And * He shall appear from Heaven 
again in flaming fire, taking vengeance on them 
that obey it not, saith the Apostle. Now, as 
the Prophet Amos argues, from another cir- 
cumstance of terror wherewith the Law was 
given, the sound of the trumpet, the first trumpet 
certainly we ever read of in any record in the 
world, as the last trumpet (the Apostle tells us) 
t shall be that of the Arch-angel to summon us to 
account for it, % ' Shall a trumpet be blown (and 
so, say I, shall a fire be kindled) in the city (nay, 
a whole city become but one great fire) and the 
people not be afraid ; we not reflect upon our 
own guiltiness before God, who came at first with 
a ^ fiery Law in his right hand to teach us our 
duty, and shall come again at last with || fiery 
Indignation at his left, to devour all those that 
perform it not.' Again, fire and water are the 
two great instruments of God's double vengeance 
upon the world of the ungodly: the one long 
since past recorded for our instruction ; the other 
yet to come, the matter (it ought to be, I am sure,) 
of our continual terror. % The world that then 
was, perished by water, (saith St. Peter,) and the 
world that is now, is reserved unto fire : in the 
mean time, fire and water, things of commonest 
use with us, are also the standing metaphors 
almost in every verse of Scripture, to exprea^ 

* 2 Thess, i. 8. t 1 Cor. xv. 52. J Amos iii. 6. 

§ Dcut. jofaiu. 2, || Hcb. x. 27. % 2 Pet. iii. 6, 7. 


God's judgments of all sorts. Is it not on purpose 
to remind us, whenever we hear the sound, or 
make use of the things, or feel the smart of either, 
to reflect upon the heavy wrath of God against 
sin in his so solemn expressions of it? Once more, 
fire is the tyrant in nature, the king of the ele- 
ments, the mighty Nimrod in the material world. 
God hath given us this active creature for our 
servant, and we degrade him to the meanest 
offices, to the drudgery of the kitchen, and the 
labour of the furnace. But God can infranchize 
him when he pleases, and let him loose upon us ; 
and for our sins, of an useful servant, make him 
to us a rigorous and a tyrannical master. You 
saw him the other day, when he escaped from 
all your restraints, mocked all your resistance, 
scorned the limits you would have set him: — 
winged with our guilt, he flew triumphant over 
our proudest heights, waving his curled head, 
seeming to repeat us that lesson which holy St. 
Austin taught us long since. That the inferior 
creatures serve us men, only that we may serve 
Him, who made both us and them too. If we 
rebel against Heaven, SuvexToXfjuyiVei o Koo-jt^of, saith 
the wise man, *The world shall rise in arms upon 
us, and fight with him against the unwise. Even 
the holy fires of the Altar too, though kindled 
from Heaven on purpose to propitiate an angry 
Deity, proved often, through men'^ provocations, 
the instruments of his fury : the Mercy-seat be- 

* Wiad. V. 20. 
B B 2 


came the arsenal of vengeance, and from the 
presence of God himself went forth those flames 
that devoured his adversaries ? And all to teach 
us this lesson. That it is sin puts the thunder into 
God's hand, and turns flames of love into a con- 
suming fire. 

And therefore dream no longer of grenadoes or 
fire-balls, or the rest of those witty mischiefs; 
search no more for boutejieus or incendiaries, Dutch 
or French: the Dutch intemperance, and the 
French pride and vanity, and the rest of their 
sins we are so fond of, are infinitely more dan- 
gerous to us than the enmity of either nation ; for 
these make God our enemy too. Or, if you will 
needs find out the incendiary, look not abroad : 
Intiis hostis, intus periculum, saith St. Jerome. 
Turn your eyes inward into your own bosoms; 
there lurks the great make-bate, the grand bautC" 
Jieu between Heaven and us. Trouble not your- 
selves with planetary aspects, or great conjunc- 
tions ; but for your own oppositions, direct and 
diametrical to God and his holy law. Fear not 
the signs of Heaven, but the sins on earth, which 
hath made a separation between you and your 
God. It is injurious to the sweet influences of 
the stars, to charge them with such dire effects, as 
wars, and pestilences, and conflagrations : Divina 
Justitia opera haCy sunt (saith the Father) et hu- 
mame injustitia. These are the products of God's 
righteousness upon our unrighteousness. Where- 
fore glorify we God in these our fires, saying with 

* Dan. ix. 7. 


the Prophet, *Righteousness belongeth to thee, Q 
Lord, but unto us confusion of faces, as it is this 
day, because of our manifold trespasses that we 
have trespassed against thee. 

If yet it be expected I should be more parti- 
cular, in assigning the very sins that have occa* 
sioned this heavy judgment, it is a slippery place, 
and hard to keep firm footing in it. The myste- 
rious text of God's holy Providence (as I said 
before) is dark and obscure; and so much the 
more, because there are so many interpreters, (for 
though there be no infallible judge of the sense 
of it, yet all fingers itch to be doing;) their 
conjecture so various and full of contradiction, so 
tine ted and debauched with private prejudice, 
that they do but rpcjSABy, wrest it unskilfully, as 
they do the other holy text, convertunt in nientem 
stiam* (as the Ethiopic turns that place in St, 
Peter), torture, and torment it, till it confess their 
own sense. As for the many spiteful and un- 
righteous glosses upon the sad text of our pre- 
sent calamity (on which every faction amongst 
us hath a revelation, hath an interpretation;) I 
will not mention, much less imitate them. '[Justus 
accusator suh saith the wise man. It is a righte- 
ous thing for every man to suspect himself, to 
look first into the plague of his own heart, and to 
be ready to say with the Disciples, Master, is it 
not I ? We are all over-apt to charge one another 
foolishly enough; to take St. Peter's counsel;^ 

^ 2 Petv, ui. 1 6. t ?«>▼• xviii. 1 7. 

B B 3 


7Af»f 0-01, to be kind and favourable to ourselves in 
our interpretations and censures ; but God, me- 
thinksy at present seems to accuse us all. 

When a judgment is particular and reacheth 
but a few, we have a salvage promptness in con- 
demning the sufferers, with. This is God's just 
judgment for such a thing, which we, it seems, 
like not, though perhaps God himself doth. So 
long as the thunderbolt flies over our own heads, 
we hug ourselves, and all is well ; it is our dear 
pastime, and a high voluptuousness to sit and 
censure others, and flatter ourselves that we are 
more righteous than they. To meet with this 
ill-humour, God hath reached us now an universal 
stroke that comes home to every man : so that it 
is as our Prophet states it, in the beginning of this 
sermon, *As with the Prince and the Priest, (for 
IW is both) so with the People; as with the 
Master and the Mistress, so with the Servant ; as 
with the Buyer, and the Borrower, so with the 
Seller and the Lender. In fine, he is no Englishman 
that feels not this blow: and, therefore, as the 
judgment is universal, let us give glory to God, 
and confess, that the sin is so too ; saying with the 
good Nehemiah, fThou art just, O God, in all 
that is brought upon us; on our King, and on our 
Princes ; on our Priests, and on our Prophets ; on 
our Fathers, and on all thy people ; for thou hast 
done right, but we have all done wickedly. Grod 
give us grace to take every one the shame that 

* Chap. xxiv. 2. t Chap. ix. 32, 33. 


belongs properly to himself, and to join heartily 
together in a full chorus at the last, repeating that 
excellent exomologesis of holy David, with which 
I began this point, and shall now conclude it, — 
' Righteous art thou, O Lord, and just are thy 
judgments/ But there is another yet behind — 

Lastly, give God the Glory of his Mercy too ;* 
that must in nowise be forgotten. It is the privilege 
and prerogative of Mercy, that it mixeth itself in 
all God's Works ; even in justice itself too. t He 
sendeth forth lightnings with the rain, (saith the 
Psalmist,) he bringeth the winds out of his trea- 
suries. Strange furniture, one would think, for a 
treasury, storms and tempest ! But there is so 
very much of mercy even in God's judgments 
too, that they also deserve a place amongst his 
treasures, aye, and amongst ours too. For he 
licenseth not a wind, or a storm, lets not fly a flash 
of lightning, or a ball of fire, but a mercy goes- 
along with it; comes flying to us (if we miss it 
not by our negligence or inadvertency) upon the 
wings of that wind ; and discovers itself to us 
even by the light of those fires. And therefore 
turn not away your eyes in horror, but study the 
late conflagration : and even in the dust and ashes 
of our city, if we sift and examine them well, we 
may find rich treasures of mercy hidden. 

1 . Mercy, first, that God spared us and preserved 

* S. Ambrose^ suo jure omnibus Dei operibus superingrcditur 
et supematat. 

t Psm. cxxjLv. 7. 

B B 4 


US SO long. For without his diviue manutenency, 
our strongest fabrics had fallen immediately upon 
their very builders; he that made all things at 
first, by preserving makes them still; now makes 
them every moment ; and for his will's sake alone 
they were and are created. He carries nature 
always in his bosom, fostering and cherishing her; 
and that not only as she came out of his own hand, 
and bears the impresses of his infinite wisdom and 
power ; but as we have transformed and disguised 
her by our petty skill; as she is, fettered and 
shackled by our silly artifices : even the world of 
fancy too, the poor attempts and bunglings of art, 
our houses of dirt and clay (which we call palaces 
and so please ourselves in) would quickly fall 
ftsunder, and moulder all into the dust they consist 
of, did not an Almighty hand uphold them. K 
He keep not the house and the city, in vain the 
builder builds, and the watchman wakes, and the 
sentinel stands perdu. And, therefore, give we 
him the glory of his mercy, saying, ♦ Thanks be 
to the Lord, who so long showed us marvellous 
great kindness, I say not, with the Psalm, in a 
strong city (though the strongest without him is 
weakness) but in ^ very weak one : a city in the 
meapness of the materials, the oldness of the build- 
ings, the straightness of some streets, the ill situ^ 
ation of others, and many like inconveniences, so 
exposed to this dismal accident, that it must 

* Psm. xxxL21. 


needs have been long since in ashes, had not his 
miraculous mercy ](ireserved it, who, so long as 
he pleaseth, (and that is just so long as we please 
him,) continues the fire to us useful and safe, ser^ 
viceable and yet innocent, with as much ease as 
be lays it asleep and quiet in the bosom of a flint. 

2. Mercy again, that he afflicts us at all ; that 
we are yet in his school ;* that he hath not quite 
given us over, and turned us out as unteachable 
and incorrigible, t F^^i^ ctii Deus dignatur irasci, 
saith Tertullian; in David's language. Blessed is 
the man whom thou chastenest, O Lord, and 
teachest him in thy law ; sendest him thy judg* 
ments, and leamest him thy righteousness. But 
to sin, and not be punished, is the sorest punish- 
ment of all, saith St. Chrysostom. J Dimisit eos 
secundum desideria cordis, he suffered them to walk 
after their own heart's lusts — that is a dreadful 
portion : let them alone, § why should they be 
stricken any more? That is the prosperity of 
fools that destroys them, as Solomon ; or as David 
phraseth it. This is for God to rain snares upon the 
ungodly : a horrible tempest indeed ! as he there 
calls it, and worse than the fire and brimstone in 
the same verse. 

3. Mercy too, that he afflicts us himself, keeps 
us still under his own discipline, and hath not yet 
given us over unto the will of our adversaries. 

* Psm. xciv. 12. 

I Psm. Ixxxi. 13. § Isa. L 5. Prov. i. 32* Psm. xi, 6, 


* The hand of an enemy poisons the wound : his 
malice or his insolence doubles and trebles the 
vexation. The malignity of the instrument may 
envenom a scratch into a gangrene. But the 
blessed hand of God, even when it strikes, drops 
balsam. His very rods are bound up in silk and 
softness, and dipt before-hand in balm : he wounds 
that he may heal, cpd in wounding heals : Una 
eademqtie menus vulnm^ opemque — and, therefore, 
may we never be beaten by the hand of a cruel 
and insulting slave ; but let our righteous Lord 
himself t smite us, and it shall be a kindness ; 
let him correct us, and it shall be an excellent oil. 
:j;0 let us still fall into the hands of God (for 
great are his mercies) but let us not fall into the 
hands of men. 

4. Mercy, lastly, in the degree of the affliction ; 
that he hath punished us less than our iniquities 
deserve ; afflicted us in measure ; corrected us in 
judgment, not in his fury, for then we had been 
utterly brought to nothing : that we have had our 
lives for a prey, and are as so many fire-brands 
plucked out of the burning. And, therefore, why 
should a living man complain ? Say we rather as 
Abraham did in the case of Sodom, when he had 
that horrible scene of vengeance now in his eye, 
\ we are but dust and ashes. Not only dust in 
the course of ordinary frailty, but ashes too in the 
merit of a far sharper doom ; deserve that God 

♦ Psm. xxvii. 14. f Psm. cxli. 5. 

X 2 Sam. xxiv. 14. § Gen. xviii. 27. 


should bring us to dust, nay, even turn us to ashes 
too, as our houses. * It is of the Lord's mercies 
that we ourselves also are not consumed, because 
his compassions fail not ; that any part of our city 
is still remaining ; that God hath left us yet a holy 
place to assemble in, solemnly to acknowledge 
(as we do this day) his most miraculous mercy : 
that when all our wit was puzzled, and all our in- 
dustry tired out, when the wind was at the high- 
est, and the fire at the hottest, and all our hopes 
were now giving up the ghost, then He, whose 
season is our greatest extremity ; He, who stayeth 
his rough wind in the day of the east wind,t as it 
is in the next chapter ; He, who alone sets bounds 
to the rage of the waters, restrained also on the 
sudden, the fury of this other merciless and unruly 
element, by the interposition of his Almighty 
Hucusque^ hitherto shalt thou go and no further. 
Aye, this deserves, indeed, to be the matter of a 
song : joy in the Lord upon so great an occasion, 
upon so noble an experience, sits not unhandsome 
on the brow of so sad a day as this is. :l;It shall be 
said in that day, (saith our Prophet, and let us all 
say it ; say it with triumph, and jubilee too,) Lo, 
this is our God, we have waited for him, and he 
hath saved us ; this is the Lord, we will be glad, 
and rejoice in his salvation : — ^The third and last 
part (we shall mention) of God's due, the glory of 
his mercy. 

♦ Lam. iii. 22. f Ch. xxvii. 8. J Ch. xxv. 9. 


And now having thus cleared and secured the 
fountain of righteousness, in the discharge of 
some part of our duty to God (where regularly it 
must begin ;) it remains, Ut ducatur rivus JustUia 
de fonte pietatis, as St. Gregory speaks : it must 
not be a fountain sealed or shut up within itself; 
(religion is not> as some would have it, a super- 
sedeas to common honesty ; the performing our 
duty towards God, no discharge of our duty to 
man:) in the next place it should run down like 
a river,* in mighty streams of righteousness to all 
our neighbours round about us ; the other great 
btanch, the second table, or (if you will) the other 
hemisphere in this great globe of righteousness. 
And here, Ecce novas Hyadas, aliumque Oriatia — 
So many new asterisms and constellations of vir- 
tues appear, that the time will not give leave to 
number them, or call them all by their names : I 
can only touch lightly the greater circles, some 
of the more comprehensive lines and measures of 
them, in these few generals, and so pass on. 

1 . It is righteousness indefinitely, first, and so 
universally. So that it will not be sufficient to 
take forth some part of it in God's school, a line 
or two, it may be, of our great lesson, and neglect 
the rest ; to study some one page or paragraph, 
and tear all the book besides ; to break the tables 
(to far worse effect than Moses did) and content 
ourselves with some sorry fragment : no, whatever 

* Amos. V. 24. 


goes under the common style of universal justice; 
whatever falls within the large bosom of that com- 
prehensive epitome, into which our Lord himself 
abridged the Law and the Prophets, * All things 
whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, 
do even so to them; whatever comes within 
compass of that Nopo; Bfto-tAixo^, as St. James calls 
it, the Royal Law.^f (the latter part of the holy in- 
stitutes, the other tome of the Christian pandects, 
the second great commandment like the first, as 
our Saviour styles it) JThou shalt love thy neigh- 
bour as thyself; even all the offices and instances 
of duty between man and man ; (reverence and 
obedience to our superiors ; courtesy and humanity 
to our equals ; kindness and condescension to our 
inferiors ; gratitude and thankfulness to our bene- 
factors ; justice and upright dealing towards all ; 
truth in our words, and faithfulness in our trusts, 
and constancy to our promises, and candour, and 
sincerity and honesty in all our actions : and yet 
further and higher, for it is a righteousness im- 
proved and heightened, or at least interpreted by 
our Lord into love, and so obligeth us beyond the 
strict measures of common justice, and not only 
renders what is legally due, but gives and forgives 
beyond it ;) equity and moderation to those that 
are any ways obnoxious to us ; mildness and gen- 
tleness to those that have any way offended us ; 
sympathy and compassion towards them that suf* 

* Matth. vii. 12. f Jam. ii. 8. % Matth. xxii. 38^ 39. 


fer; mercy and bounty to them that need ; good- 
ness and peaceablenessy and charity to all the 
world : these are all parts of this great lesson, and 
whatever else may help to denominate us the 
righteous nation that keepeth the truth, (as it is 
in the second verse of this chapter,) or the city in 
which dwells righteousness. 

2. But then as it is righteousness indefinitely, 
the * Commandment exceeding broad, as David 
speaks, wide in the extension; so it is also as 
deep in the intention, it is righteousness internally 
and spiritually too; as being a righteousness 
taught us by God's, and not by man s, judgments 
only, and consequently must have an eflFect pro- 
portionable : it is When thy jtulgmaits are in the 
Earthy Men will learn. — As the Jews, while their 
fear towards God was taught them by the pre- 
cepts of men, drew near to him, and honoured 
him with their mouth only, but removed their 
hearts far away from him, Isai. xxix. 13. Upon 
the same ground, our righteousness will never 
exceed the righteousness of Scribed, and Pharisees, 
hypocrites ; must needs prove noise and appear- 
ance only, a mere and vain semblance, if we learn 
it in no higher school than man's : take it forth 
from the Twelve Tables only, not from the Two, 
and have no other tutor in it than Solon, or Ly- 
curgus, or Justinian. For the derivation can re- 
turn no higher than the fountain-head ; and what 

* Ps. cxix. 96. 


is taught us only by the statutes of Omri, or at 
Caesar's judgment-seat, will never come up to 
what the perfect law of God requires. While we 
are under this lower and external discipline only, 
if we can but skulk and shift, and play least in 
sight, and seem to be righteous, though we are 
not so ; recti in curia, though not upright in heart: 
or if we be discovered and impleaded too, if we 
can, whether by power or artifice, break through 
the venerable cobweb, and run under the miserable 
shelter of a temporal indemnity at these lower 
bars ; why, all is well : with * Solomon's wanton 
we wipe our mouths, and are suddenly very vir- 
gins again, not only safe, but innocent too. But, 
though human laws exact only outward compli- 
ances, assume not to themselves to judge the 
heart, because they cannot discern it, nor take 
cognizgaice of secret thoughts and purposes, fur- 
ther than they are declared by overt acts : yet 
God is a spirit, and a discemer of the inmost 
thoughts and intentions; and his law spiritual 
too, and given to the spirit ; and the righteousness 
taught in his school is not a carcass, nor an out- 
side only, but a living soul, and a spirit of righte- 
ousness : and by consequence it stays not in the 
outward act, (the proper object of human laws 
and provisions ;) restrains not only open violences 
(such as the judgment-seat of man condemns, and 
the scaffold or the gibbet take notice of;) not only 

* Prov. XXX. 20. 

384 At»PENDIX. 

smoothes and polishes the outward garb, to reii- 
der that plausible in the eyes of the world : but 
goes yet further and deeper, even to the heart; 
composeth the whole inner man too, and labours 
to approve that to the righteous judge, who sees 
not as man sees ; and, in fine, calls us up to that 
glorious height of the primitive Christians in Justin 
Martyr, who obeyed indeed the municipal laws 
of their country, but out-lived them too, and sur- 
mounted them far. Tot; ^mg Hmq yiwavrtg rsg ifOfjungj aS 

he speaks; they contented not themselves with 
so scant measures, but flew a higher and a nobler 
pitch, aiming at a more refined and perfect righte- 
ousness, the worthy effect of God's judgments, 
and not of man s only ; taught in his school alone, 
and not at our tribunals. And, then. 

Lastly, It is righteousness positively, and aflir- 
matively too. For though the decalogue is almost 
all over negative in the style and form of it ; yet, 
our Lord, by reducing all the precepts of it to one 
aflBrmative (love,) and also by his affirmative 
glosses or additions to it in his sermon on the 
Mount, seems to have authorized the rule of their 
exposition, received generally by Christian di- 
vines, that the negative still infers the affirmative, 
and that there are many yeas concealed in the 
bosom of every such no. So that, however it is 
indeed a part of our duty, not to murder, and not 
to slander, and not to covet, and the like, (an 
obligation consequent upon God's prohibition; 
and he takes it well, when, for his sake,, we ab- 


stain from the evil we are inclined or strongly 
solicited to, and so accepts graciously our very 
nothing, as I may call it, our not doing amiss ; 
thus giving us leave to inclose, as it were, a part 
of our waste, and to raise some revenue upon it :) 
yet this is so much short of the height of the les- 
son we are to learn in God's school, that it is only 
the unlearning something that might obstruct it ; 
so far from making us truly righteous, that it can 
only style us innocent, and set us extra vitia rather 
than intra virtutem. We must not then content 
ourselves with a negative righteousness ; nor con- 
fine and limit it within the sorry boimds of the 
Pharisaical boast, * that we are not, as other men 
are, extortioners or unjust : in some cases, he is 
unjust too, that gives not his own, as well as he 
that takes away what is another's :t in the Sacred 
Dialect, alms-deeds are justice too ; even acts of 
mercy and bounty to those that need them, stricti 
juris, a part of our righteousness sometimes so in- 
dispensable as not to be omitted without sin. 
And therefore glorify thyself no longer, that thou 
doest harm to no man : 

^ Cum dicis stultum, qui donat amico. 

Qui paupertatem levat, attollitque propinqui, 
Et spoliare doces % 

could the heathen poet say : he robs his neigh- 
bour that relieves him not : he spoils his friend, 

* Luk. xviii. 11. \ V%. cxii. 9. Isai. Iviii. 7, 8. 

X Juvenal. Sat. xiv. 



that Id some cases doth not supply him. And 
though it is well (a good decree) if we can say 
with St. Paul, *I have wronged no man ; yet he 
only is perfectly blameless in this kind. Qui ne in 
€0 quidem ulli noceat, quod prodesse desistat,'\' as St. 
Jerome excellently; who doth not this evil to 
his neighbour, that he omits to do him all the 
good he can. Thou didst not bum thy neigh- 
bour's house (a strange piece of uncouth righte- 
ousness!) but dost thou receive him into thy own, 
now he is harboutless ? Thou hast not oppressed 
or impoverished thy brother ; it is well : but is thy 
abundance the supply of his want in this present 
exigence ? thy superfluity the ransom and redemp- 
tion of his extreme necessities ? If not, remember 
that :{) Dives is in torments, not for robbing Laza- 
rus, but for not relieving him : and the dreadful 
decretory sentence proceeds, at the last day, not 
for oppressing the poor, but for not feeding, not 
clothing, not visiting them: a reflection very 
conmion, indeed, yet never more proper or sea- 
sonable than at this time when God presents us 
an object of charity, the greatest, I think, and the 
most considerable that was ever offered to this 
nation, and when Heaven and earth expect, that 
something extraordinary should be done. 

I have now opened the book, and laid it before 
you, and given you a short draught of this very 
important lesson: a lesson so considerable, that 

* 2 Cor. vii. 2. f Lib. 1. Epist. 14. ad Cdaatkm. 

t Matth. xxxY. 



our wise and good God thinks it worth his while 
to rout armies, and sink navies, to burn up cities, 
and turn kingdoms upside down ; to send wars, 
and plagues, and conflagrations amongst us ; to set 
open all his schools, and ply all his severest me- 
thods to teach it us the more effectually. Think, 
now, that He looks down this day from Heaven, 
to take notice of our proficiency ; to see how far 
we are advanced by these his judgments in learn- 
ing righteousness. And is it possible we should 
stand out any longer? Can we still resist so 
powerful a Grace ? Are not the parts of the text 
by this time happily met together ; and the truth 
of it accomplished and exemplified in us to the 
full ? God s judgments on us, and his righteous- 
ness in us? Who would not think and hope so? 
But as St. Jerome complains of his age (which 
was indeed very calamitous) Orbis Romanus ruit, 
et tamen cervix nostra non Jiectitur: the world 
sinks and cracks about our ears, and yet our neck 
as stiff*, and the crest of our pride as lofty and 
as erect as ever. How few are they that repent in 
dust and ashes, even now, that God hath laid our 
city in dust, and our houses in ashes ! Look we 
first upon the text, and then upon ourselves, and 
we must ingenuously acknowledge, that, what- 
ever abatements or diminutions to the height of the 
designed event of God's judgments upon us the 
text, or any version of it note, or imply, our 
wretched evil lives do but too plainly express 
and justify. For — 

c c 2 


1. Wfeo are they that are said here to learn 
righteousness in the text? Not always the af- 
flicted themselves, it seems ; but some others that 
stand by and look on. For it is not to be omitted, 
that the phrase manifestly varies in the parts 
of the proposition: Judgments in the Earthy or 
upon the land, some particular country ; and the 
World at large, or some few in it, learn Righteous- 
ness. Thus *Tyrus shall be devoured with fire, 
saith the Prophet : Ashkelon shall see it, and fear; 
Gaza and Ekron shall be very sorrowful : but not 
a word how Tyrus herself is affected. God for- 
bid it should be so with us ! May it never be 
said, that any of our neighbours make better use 
of our calamities, than we ourselves ! Have we any 
so hard hearted amongst us, that can look upon so 
sad a spectacle, as if they sate all the while in the 
theatre, or walked in a gallery of pictures ; little 
more concerned, than at the siege of Rhodes, or 
the ruins of Troy ? Shall any neighbour-city say 
wisely — Mea res agitur, jam proaimus ardet Ucale- 

gon ? Shall our enemies themselves (the 

sober and the wise amongst them, at the least) 
tremble at the relation, and we continue stupid 
and senseless? Shall Constantinople and Alex- 
andria resent it, and we not regard it as we ought? 
Nay, shall China and Peru, (it may be) Surat and 
Mexico, both the Indies hear, and be affected with 
it, and we ourselves insensible ? Shall the inhabi- 

* Zacb. ix. 4, 5. 


tants of the world abroad warm themselves at 
our fires, with kindly and holy heats ; while, in 
the mean time, our repentings are not kindled, 
nor our charity inflamed, and our devotion as cold 
and frozen as ever? Shall our mountain (which 
we said, in our jolly pride, should never be re- 
moved) be fulminated, and thunder-struck, but ' 
the blessed shower that follows, the instruction 
that descends after, like the rain, slide off to the 
vallies, to others that are round about us? Our 
Lord *wept over Jerusalem, because she knew 
not then (at forty years distance) the time of her 
visitation ; for the days will come, saith He, when 
there shall not be left one stone upon another : 
but, wo is me ! our day is come already, and our 
visitation now actually upon us ; and yet, I fear, 
we will not know it, as we ought. For — 

2. Reflect a little upon the tense of the verb, 
how that varies too in the parts of the propo- 
sition: The Judgments are in the earth, and 

the Inhabitants will learn (so the vulgar Latin 

and the English,) it is still per verba de futuro. 
For we list not to handfast ourselves to God 
Almighty, to make ourselves over to him by 
present deed of gift ; but would fain, forsooth, be- 
queath ourselves to him, a legacy, in our last will 
and testament. Aye, but in necessitatibus nemo 
liberalis: it is not a free or a noble donation, 
which we bestow, when we can keep it no longer 

♦ Luk. xix. 41. 

c c 3 


to ourselves : for such a bequest, we may thank 
death, rather than the testator, saith St. Chrysos- 
tom. But we are all Clinicks* in this point ; would 
fain have a baptism in reserve, a wash for all our 
^ins, when we cannot possibly commit them any 
more. Like Felix, the unjust governor, when 
St. Paul treasons of righteousness, our heads be- 
gin to ache, and presently we adjourn, w^ith. Go 
thy way for this time, Kaipov ti fAtraXctSivrH, (as he 
pretended) when we have time and opportunity, 
and convenient leisure, (which we read not that 
he ever found); in plain English, when we have no- 
thing else to do, or can do nothing else, then we 
will take forth this lesson; — learn righteousness, 
as Cato did Greek, jam SeptuagenariuSy just when 
we are a dying ; — begin, then, to con our part, 
when we are ready to be hissed oflF the stage, and 
death is now pulling off our properties. But take 
we heed in time : he may prove a false prophet, 
that promiseth himself to die the death of the 
righteous, when he hath loved and pursued the 
ways and wages of unrighteousness all his life 
long : who thinks, if he can but shape the last 
faint breath he draws into a formal pretence of 
forgiving all the world, and a sly desire of being 
forgiven ; upon these two hangs the whole stress 
of his righteousness ; he goes out of God's school 
upon fair terms, and thinks to render a plausible 

t Acts^ xxiv. 25. 


account of himself. No, no ; the great lesson of 
the text is harder and deeper than so : it is that we 
must sweat for, it is that we may bleed for : it is all 
that Adam lost, and all that Christ came to recover: 
it is the business of our whole life, and it is des- 
perate folly and madness to defer to learn it till- 
death, when God now calls us to account for it. 
Though the verb in some versions be future (as I 
said) yet still it is discent habitatores, we must learn it 
while we dwell here in the world, and who can 
secure us that beyond the next moment ? When 
once we remove hence, there is no school beyond : 
the Platonic Eruditorum in Origen (a place under 
ground, I know not where, in which separated 
souls are supposed to learn what they missed of 
or neglected here) as very a fable as the Platonic 
Purgatory. *As there is no work, nor labour ; so 
no device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom in the 
grave. The schools are all in this world : all be- 
yond is prison, and dungeon, and place of tor- 
ment, for such as learn not their duty here ; fire 
without light, and utter darkness. 

3. Again, They did learn (so the Syriac, and the 
interlineary Latin) when thy judgments were in the 
earth : for there ;s an ellipsis in the original of the 
former clause, and the verb substantive may be 
supplied either way, when thy judgments are or 
were in the earth: and the conjunction may seem to 
stand fair for the latter "^l?^? in quantum^ or jtucta 

* Eccles. ix. 10. 

c c 4 


quod; IB— ^ (as R. David glosseth it) qua men- 
sura, aut modo; and so the Syriac, Qualia Judicia, 
talem Justitiam didicerurU ; so much judgment, so 
much justice; righteousness they did learn, just 
while God's rod was over them, and no longer. 
Thus, while God's plagues lay heavy upon Pharaohs 
even that stiff neck bowed, and that hard heart 
was softened ; as iron in a quick fire relents and 
melts, but take it out of the furnace and it grows 
hard again, nay, worse, churlish, and unmalleable : 
and so he, when he saw that there was respite, saith 
the text, or a breathing time, he hardened his 
heart. Exod. viii. 15. And do not we all the 
same ? Like teeming women, while the pangs are 
upon us, *we have sorrow; when some great 
affliction give us a smart visit, strikes home and 
deep, we seem to be a little sensible : aye, but the 
throes once over, (ax hi fjt,imfAovivny saith our Lord) 
the woman remembers them no more ; and so we. 
If but for a little space grace be showed us, if 
God gives us but a little respite in our bondage, 
like Israel newly returned from Babel, we straight 
forget his commandments; which made the good 
Ezra ashamed, and blushed to lift up his face to 
Heaven: Ezra, chap. ix. ver. 8. 10. 

Happy we, if, as Pliny f adviseth his friend 
M aximus. Tales esse sani per sever emus ^ qiiales fu- 
turos prqfitemur infirmi; if we continue such in 
health as we promise to be upon our sick beds. 
But, alas! XConvaluit ; mansit, ut ante. How few 

* John, xvi. 21. t Lib. 7. Ep. 27. % Psm. Ixvi. 14. 


with David pay the vows which they speak with 
their mouths^ when they were in trouble ? Do not 
the engagements on the sick bed vanish, like the 
dreams of the sick, forgotten, as if they had never 
been? I appeal to your own bosoms; though af- 
fected at first with this late dismal accident, doth 
it not prove to you a nine-days' wonder, and your 
thoughts, though much startled at first, by de- 
grees reconcile to it ? Do not your devotions be- 
gin to grow cold with the fires ; raked up, like 
those dying sparks in dead ashes, and buried in 
the dust; — Ignes suppositi cineri dolosol Just as 
our Prophet states it here, WliiU thy Judgments 
were upon them, they learned; but, as it follows im- 
mediately, *Fiat gratia impio, Let favour be 
showed to the wicked, the least intermission or 
kind interval, and he will not learn righteousness, 
saith the text expressly ; he soon lays by his 
book, and gives over. But, 

4. Lastly, what is it that we learn? Or, to 
what good end or purpose ? The Chaldee Para- 
phrast interposeth here a very material and ope- 
rative word, Discent operariy they will learn 
T^iyp^ to do, or to work righteousness. And this 
addition shows us another of our defects ; cuts 
oflF, I fear, above half the roll of our learners at 
once. We live (as I said) in a learned age : but in 
all this crowd and throng of learners, how few put 
themselves in good earnest into God's school ? And 

* Verse 10. 


of them that do, how much fewer yet take forth 
their lesson aright ? — Learn any thing else they 
will, but not righteousness; and, if that, any thing, 
but to do it ? But this is not 'Op^olofJuTv, rightly to 
divide; this is to mangle the text, and to saw 
Isaiah asunder again. Would learning, or talk- 
ing, or pretending serve the turn, we might find 
righteousness enough in the world : we can define 
it, and distinguish it, criticise upon the word, and 
dispute of the thing without end : we stuff our 
heads with the notion, and tip our tongues with 
the language, and fill the world with our pretences 
to it : but * Little children, saith St. John, (O ye 
world of learners) be not deceived, (let no man 
seduce you into this piece of gnosticism, as 
if to learn, or to know, were sufficient; no,) 
'O troiwv, he that doth righteousness, he is righte- 
ous. Non fortia loquimur, sed vivimus, saith St 
Cyprian: the life of religion is doing. What 
we know, we must practise too: t Whereto 
we have already attained, we must walk in it, 
saith the Apostle. They that followed Christ, 
were first indeed called :|;Disciples, that is learners, 
(for there we must begin ;) but they soon after 
commenced Christians at Antioch, anointed to 
action, as the word implies ; and this name sticks 
by them still, as the more essential. Their oil 
must not be spent all in the lamp, in schald sa- 
pientuB, that they may shine by knowledge ; they 

♦ 1 John, iii. 7. t Phil. iii. 16. J Acts, xi. 26. 


must do their exercises, too, in gymnasio Justitia, 
be anointed to the Agon, and to the combat (as 
the champions of old ;) and, if they expect the 
crown of righteousness, must not only learn 
righteousness, but learn to do it. 

And therefore (to shut up all, and to enforce it 
a little upon such topics as the text^ and the sad 
face of things amongst us suggest;) let us no 
longer trifle with God Almighty, now we find to 
our cost, that He is in good earnest with us. Be 
not deceived ; God, I am sure, is not mocked. 
It is not our fasting and looking demure a little, 
and hanging down the head, like a buUrush, for a 
day; it is not a few grimaces of sorrow, a sad 
word or two, or a weeping eye, will serve the 
turn : — our hearts must bleed, too, our souls must 
be afflicted, and mourn for our old unrighteous- 
nesses, and forsake them, too, and renounce them 
all for ever ; and yet, further, take forth new les- 
sons of righteousness * in all holy conversations 
and godlinesses, as St. Peter speaks, even in all 
the instances of piety, and justice, and charity, 
ye heard of even now, or all this holy discipline 
of God is lost and spent in vain upon us. For, 
f this is all the fruit, saithour Prophet, to take 
away sin : if that remain still in us, adversity is a 
bitter cup, indeed. To keep our sins, and hold 
them fast, even when God's judgments are upon 
us for them — this is with Copronymus, to pollute 

*2Pet. iu. 11. t Cap.xxvii. 9. 


the fountain that should wash us, to defile the 
salutary waters of aMction, to prophane the holy 
fires of God's furnace, and to pass through the 
fire to Moloch^ to some reigning and domineering 
sin, some tyrant lust, or mistress-passion. Cor- 
rection without instruction, this is the scourge of 
asses, not the discipline of men, nor the rod of 
the sons of men. To suffer much, and not to be 
at all the better for it, it is certainly one of the 
saddest portions that can befal us in this world; 
if not the foreboding and prognostic of a far sadder 
yet to come, the very beginnings of hell here, the 
foretastes of that cup of bitterness, of which the 
damned suck out the dregs. 

And wilt thou, after all this, hide the sweet 
morsel under thy tongue, when thou sensibly per- 
ceivest it already turning into the gall of asps?— 
Still long for the delicious portion consecrated, 
and snatch it greedily from God's altars, though 
thou seest thy fingers bum, and thy nest on fire 
with it? — Still retain the old complasence in thy 
sparkling cup, though thou feelest it already biting 
like a serpent, and stinging like an adder ? — Say 
still, * Stolen waters are sweet, though like those 
bitter ones of jealousy, thou perceivest them carry 
a curse along with them into thy very bowels? 
t Dare we thus provoke the Lord to jealousy? Are 
we stronger than He? J Gird up now thy loins 
like a Man, thou stoutest and gallantest of the sons 

* Prov. ix. 17. t 1 Cor. x. 22. X Job, xxviii. a. 


of earth. *Hast thou an arm like God ? Or canst 
thou thunder with a voice like Him ? Wilt thou 
set the briars and thorns of the wilderness against 
Him in battle array ? Or canst thou f dwell with 
everlasting burnings? Or despisest thou the 
Riches of his Goodness and Forbearance; not 
knowing (refusing to know) ^ that the Long-suf- 
fering of our Lord is Salvation, and that his 
Goodness leadeth thee to Repentance ? If not, 
know assuredly, that thy hardness and impenitent 
heart do but treasure up for thee yet a fiercer and 
more insupportable wrath. 

And, therefore, let us not flatter ourselves, nor 
think that God hath now emptied his quiver, and 
spent all his artillery upon us ; let us not come 
forth delicately with the foolish Agag, saying, 
§ Surely the bitterness of death is past: no, the 
dregs of the cup of fury are still behind ; God 
grant we be not forced at last to drink them, 
and suck them up. Great Plagues remain for the 
ungodly, saith the Psalmist. || Va unum abiit; ecce 
dtco veniunt. One Woe is past, but behold there 
come two Woes more ; for the rest of men that 
were not killed by the former plagues repented 
not. Apoc. ix. 12. 20. When God's rods and- his 
ferulas (the discipline of children) are contemned, 
he hath a lash of scorpions to scourge the obsti- 
nate. When the ten dreadful plagues are spent all 

* Isa. xxxiii, 14. f Rom. ii. 4. % 2 Pet. iii. 15. 

i 1 Sam. XV. 32. || Psm. xxxii. 11. 


upon a stubborn Egypt without effect, there is a 
Red Sea yet in reserve, that at last swallows all : 
and, if our present afflictions reform us not, that 
we sin no more, take we heed, lest yet a worse 
thing befal us. Remember, that when the touch 
of God's little finger did not terrify us, he soon 
made us feel the stroke of his heavy hand. If the 
more benign and benedict medicines will not work, 
nor stir us at all, he can prepare us a rougher re- 
ceipt, or a stronger dose ; retrieve and bring back 
his former judgments in a sharper degree, or 
else send upon us new ones, which we never 
dreamt of. 

The Devil of Rebellion and Disobedience, which 
not long since possessed the nation, rent and tore 
it till it foamed again, and pined away in lingering 
consumptions ; that cast it oft-times into the fire, 
and oft-times into the water (calamities of all 
sorts) to destroy it ; is now, through God s mercies, 
cast out, and we seem to sit quiet and sober at 
the feet of our deliverer, clothed, and in our right 
minds again. But yet this ill spirit, this restless 
fury (this unquiet and dreadful Alastor, the eldest 
son of Nemesis, and heir apparent to all the ter- 
rors and mischiefs of his mother) walks about 
day and night, seeking rest, and finds none ; and 
he saith, in his heart, I will return some time or 
other to my house from whence I came out. 
let us take heed of provoking that God, who 
alone chains up his fiiry, lest for our sins he per- 
mit him to return once more with seven other 


spirits more wicked than himself, and so our last 
estate prove worse than the former. 

The sword of the Angel of Death, which the last 
year cut down almost a hundred thousand of us, 
may seem to have been glutted with our blood, 
and to have put up itself into the scabbard. 
^Quiesce et sile, as the Prophet speaks: God grant 
it may rest here, and be still. But, as it follows 
there. How can it be quiet, if the Lord give it a 
new commission against us? Methinks I see the 
hand still upon the guard, and, unless we pre- 
vent it by our speedy repentance, it may quickly 
be drawn again more terrible than ever, new 
furbished, and whetted with the keener edge 
and point our wretched ingratitude must needs 
have given it. The Sun of Righteousness was 
ready to rise upon us, with healing in his wings, 
to clear our heaven again, and to scatter the 
cloud of the last year's unhealthiness. But yet, 
methinks, this slow moving cloud hangs over our 
heads, hovers yet in view, with God knows how 
many plagues and deaths in the bosom of it : and, 
without our serious amendment, we have no rain- 
bow to assure us, that we shall not again be 
drenched in that horrible tempest. Though the 
best Naturalists say, f * that great public fires are 
a proper remedy for the plague,' yet God, if he be 
angry, can send a ruffling wind into the very ashes 
of our city, blow them into the air, and turn them, 

♦ Jer. xlvii. 6. f Diamerbr. de pcstc Noviomag. 


as those of the Egyptian furnace^ into a blain, and 
a botch, * and a plague sore upon us. 

Nay, even out of those dead ashes can He raise 
yet a fiercer flame, to consume what still remains. 
As the lightning cometh out of the East, saith our 
Lord, and shineth even unto the West, so shall my 
coming be, (sc. to destroy Jerusalem,) and wherever 
the carcase is, will the eagles be gathered together. 
TVIatth. xxiv. Fire is the eagle in nature ; nothing 
in the elementary world mounts so high to its place, 
and stoops so low to its prey : the two properties 
God himself ascribes to that bird. Job, xxxix. 
27. 30. And, if we still refuse obstinately to be 
gathered like chickens under our Lord's wing, he 
can again let loose this bird of prey, this eagle of 
Heaven upon us ; and, from the East, where it be- 
gan before, fly it home like lightning, tus ^uer/uwv, 
even to the utmost West, to seize and to devour 
wherever there is the least quarry remaining. 

Or, if this move us not, let us remember that 
we have another city upon the waters, a floating 
town of moveable forts and castles, the walls and 
bulwarks of the nation ; stronger than those of 
brass the fable speaks of. As we desire that God 
would ever ' fill their sails with prosperous gales, 
and still bring them home with honour and victory 
and good success ; let us take heed that we fight 
not against them too. Our sin, like a talent of 
lead, may sink them to the bottom ; our lusts, 

♦ Exod. ix. 8, 9. 


and passions^ and animosities may fire them ; our 
drunkenness, and deep excesses may drown them ; 
our voUies of oaths and blasphemies may pierce 
them ; nay, our seditious murmurings, and privy 
whisperings may blow them over. For God is 
Piorum rupes, reorum scopulus; a rock to found 
the just upon, but a shelf to shipwreck, and con- 
found the unrighteous. 

And yet all these are but the common roads 
and ordinary instances of God's displeasures: but 
he hath also, besides, and beyond all these, un- 
known treasures of wrath, vast stores of hidden 
judgments (for *who knows the power, or the 
extent of his anger?) laid up in those secret ma- 
gazines where his judgments are, when they are 
not in the earth, reserved as his dreadful artil- 
lery against the time of trouble, against the day of 
battle and war, as he speaks himself. Job, xxxviii. 
23. Oh let us take heed of t treasuring up to our- 
selves wrath against that day of wrath, and the 
revelation of his righteous judgments. 

And now what shall I say more, if all that hath 
been said hitherto, prove ineffectual ? The text 
affords yet one expedient, as the Chaldee Para- 
phrast may seem to have understood it : Because 
thy Judgment, saith he, (not, I0?t^ as in the He- 
brew, but ^y^, or >*J1 wn as the Jews call it, and 
St. Jude from them, JThe Judgment of the great 
Day,) because that judgment, though not as yet in 

* Psm. xc. 2. t Rom. i. 5. ♦ Jude 6. 



the earth, is yet fixed, and appointed, and prepared 
for all the earth (T^^ in the Hebrew itself, too, 
for rather than in the earth), therefore most cer- 
tainly, if at all, or for any thing, the inhabitants 
of the world will learn righteousness. 

But, if they put far from them this evil day too, 
as if they had made a covenant with death and 
with hell ; if they finally refuse to come under 
God's discipline, and to take forth to themselves 
lessons of righteousness here, they shall then be 
made themselves great lessons and dreadful ex- 
amples of God's righteousness to all the world^ 
If they will not glorify God in these fires, as they 
ought, nor walk in the light of them ; let them 
remember that there are fires without light, where 
none glorify him, but by suffering the eternal 
vengeance of their sins. There must they learn 
by saddest experience, who obstinately refuse the 
more gainful method, on ^o^ipov ifAnartTp^ that it is 
a fearful thing to fall into the hands of a lining 
God. For our enemies here must die, and our 
storms at last blow over, and our fires, you see, 
though never so great, in time go out and vanish: 
but God lives ; hath a worm, too, that dies not (for 
those that live not as they ought) and a fire that 
is not quenched : the Babylonian furnace, seven 
times hotter than usual, a cool walk to that ; all 
our Vulcans and £tnas, our Heclas and Andes 
faint types and shadows of it; the great confla- 
gration we so lately trembled at, and still bewail, 
but a spark to that infernal Tophet, but a painted 


fire to that dreadful MoDgibel ; even everlasting 
burnings. From which God of his tender mercy 
deliver us all ; and give us grace in this our day 
(the day of his judgments) so to learn righteous- 
ness, and so to do it, that at the last and great 
Day of Judgment, when He shall come again to 
account with us for all our learning, and for all 
our doings, we may, through his mercy, receive 
the crown of righteousness, for His sake alone, 
who so dearly bought it for us, even Jesus Christ 
the Righteous : to whom, with the Father, and 
the Holy Ghost, be ascribed by us, and all the 
creatures in Heaven and earth, blessing, honour, 
glory and power, henceforth and for evermore. 

Moyu 0fb) iofct. 

1) D 2 




In the Shadow of thy Wings vnU I make my Refuge^ until thete 
Calamities be over-past, — Psalm Ivii. Ter. 1. 

What St. Hierom observed long since concerning 
this Book of Psalms, Titulos esse claves; that the 
title is usually the true key of David, to set open 
the Psalm to us, and to let us into the true under- 
standing of it ; he learned, probably, from a former 
author, (with whose writings he was in his younger 
years much delighted,) Origent I mean : who, in 
his tomes upon the Psalms, discoursing of some 
obscurities in Holy Scripture, and the proper re- 
medies thereof, gives us yet a more ancient tradi- 
tion, which he received (as he saith) from a learned 
Jew ; that the whole body of Scripture is like a 
great house, in which are several apartments, and 
therein many rooms shut up, and in them agaiiv 

* On the occasion of the celebrated Popish Plot, 
t Orig. Philocul. p. 59. 

D D 3 


many cabinets and boxes locked down : nor hangs 
the proper key at every door, but they lie scat- 
tered here and there, and counter-changed; so 
that it requires some pains and skill to find them 
out, and apply them aright. Thus, the key of the 
Prophetic Scripture lies in the historical, where 
we often find both the occasion of the prophecy, 
and the event too ; and that proves usually the 
best interpreter. Thus, the Acts of the Apostles, 
which contain the peregrinations and gests of St 
Paul, are a great master-key to open his Epistles, 
and to unlock to us many things, hard otherwise 
to be understood in them. And thus, in the pre- 
sent instance, David's History is the proper key 
to David's Psalter ; and so the Books of Samuel, 
the Kings, and Chronicles, the best and most 
authentic commentary upon the Psalms. 

For this now before us, lest we should mistake, 
the Spirit of God hath hung the key at the door, 
or at least pointed us whence to fetch it: and 
while the title dates it from the cave, we are 
plainly directed to 1 Sam. xxiv. There we find 
the holy man in a great strait of affliction ; wan- 
dering like an exile, or banditto, in the wilderness 
of Engedi ; the few men he had, straggling, and 
shifting for themselves upon the rocks of the wild 
goats ; implacable Saul, in the mean time, with 
five times his number, so closely pursuing him, 
that he is forced to take shelter in the cave : and 
there being shut up from the sight of Heaven, and 
light of the sun, and, as it were, buried alive in 


that obscure dungeon, surrounded with danger on 
every side, and little hope left him of escaping 
with his life ; it is then that he sighs out his Al- 
taschith, (as this, and the two following Psalms 
are entitled,) Oh destroy me not utterly (so the word 
signifies) but kt me live to praise thy name ; it is 
then that, by a vigorous faith, he flies to the ten- 
der mercies of God, as to his only city of refuge : 
and, reposing himself in the bosom of the divine 
goodness by acts of faith and devotion, and of per- 
severance in both, he doth exactly and precisely 
that which we all are enjoined to do this day : he 
implores the mercies of God in the protection of 
himself, and in him of those that belong to him ; 
Be merciful unto me, O God (saith he) bemerciful 
unto me, for my soul trusteth in thee ; yea, in the 
shadow of thy wings will I make my refuge, until 
these calamities be overpast. 

So that, the proper business of this day being 
visibly stamped in great letters upon the forehead 
of the day, and that by the hand of Sacred Autho- 
rity itself; and the lines of the text, too, running 
so parallel all along, and so commensurate to those 
of the day (upon which ground the whole Psalm 
was very pertinently selected as one of the pro- 
per Psalms for the office of the day :) I may hope 
in some degree to discharge my duty to both of 
them, by treating of those two things — what 
God's protection is ; and what we are to do, that 
we may be qualified and prepared aright, success- 
fully to implore the mercy of that protection. In 

D D 4 


order whereunto, I will consider the text in a 
two-fold reference. 

I. As it looks down from God to us- ward in 
gracious and powerful protections: and so it 
speaks our great honour and happiness, the high 
and glorious privilege of pious kings and their 
kingdoms, that they are under the shadow of 
God's wings. 

II. As it looks up in another aspect from us to 
God again ; and so it contains our necessary and 
indispensable duty ; and calls aloud for our suit- 
able deportment ; which is resolvedly to put our- 
selves under the Divine protection, or to seek, and 
make our refuge under the shadow of his wings. 

I. I begin with the high and glorious privilege 
of all holy souls, but especially of pious kings, 
and their kingdoms ; they are under the shadow 
of God's wings. The expression frequently oc- 
curs in Scripture, and may seem to speak these 
three things, or some of them ; which together 
will give you, I think, the full extent of the sha- 
dow of God's wings, the adequate importance of 
this illustrious metaphor. 

1 . Safeguard and defence from calamities, that 
they come not. Or, 

2. Speedy help and deliverance out of calami- 
ties, when they are come. Or, however, 

3. Comfort in the mean time, and refreshment 
in calamities, while they are upon us. 

1 . The privilege of safety and protection from 
calamities stand first in our method; intimated 

SERMONS. 401^ 

here in a three-fold expression ; a refuge, a sha- 
dow, and the shadow of wings. 

1. And what is a refuge, (which is the first,) 
but a place of security, either in regard of its se- 
crecy to hide us, or its strength to defend us, to 
which we fly when calamity threatens us ? And 
such is God to his people ; a city of refuge, aa 
inviolable sanctuary ; an altar of mercy, to which, 
we may fly and be safe, and from the horns 
whereof no bold calamity shall dare to pluck us,, 
without his special commission. Or, in another 
reference, a place of refuge is a covert from storm 
and rain. Is. IV. 6. and, as it follows there in the 
same verse, 

2. A tabernacle for a shadow, too, in the day- 
time from the heat, which is the second expres- 
sion. The emphasis whereof is far better under- 
stood in those intemperate climates, where the 
sunbeams are scorching, and the heats insufler- 
able. Nothing there more desirable than a shady 
grove, or a deep grot the sun never looks into, or 
the shadow of a great rock in a weary land. 
Which protections, because the pilgrim Israelitea 
wanted in the wilderness, God supplied it to 
them, by spreading a cloud over them for a cover- 
ing in the day-time, (as the Psalmist* speaks,) and 
God was in that cloud ; so that for forty years 
together they marched and encamped under his 
shady wings, I had almost said, without a meta-. 

^ Psm. cv. 39. 


phor. And still whenever the sun of persecution, 
or other calamity* ariseth upon us with burning 
heat, God can exempt whom he thinks good, and 
send them times of refreshing from the presence 
of the Lord : so that, while the world is all on fire 
about them, they journey through that torrid 
zone, with their mighty parasol, or umbrella over 
their heads, and are all the while in the shade. 

And yet every shade is not a safe protection. 
Umbra aut nutriv, Mut noverca est, saith Pliny :t 
and all the naturalists tell us, that the shadow of 
some trees is unwholesome; of others deadly. 
Aye, there is a shadow of death too in Scripture 
language ; and you have heard of the shades of 
hell itself. And therefore, to distinguish this be- 
nign and saving protection from those black and 
dismal shades, here is yet a further and a higher 
emphasis ; 

3. It is, in the third place, umbra alarum, a 
shadow of wings : an expression borrowed from 
birds and fowls, that brood, and foster their young 
ones under them. The wing of the dam is both 
the midwife and the nurse ; it brings forth the 
chickens, and it brings them up too. So Provi- 
dence is both the womb that bare us, and the 
paps that give us suck. The wing is not only, as 
the shade, a protection from the heat, but a more 
universal defence against all the injuries, and in- 
clemencies of the air. Is it too hot ? the wing 

* Jac. i. 11. t L. 17. c. 12. 


casts off a cold shade. Or is it too cold ? the 
wing affords a warm covering. Are the young- 
lings frightened with a storm ? the wing is a ready 
shelter. Doth the kite, or hawk, the tyrants and 
freebooters of the air, hover over and threaten ? 
the wing is a safe retreat. And thus in sacris 
Domini defensionibiLSy as Cassian speaks ; in God 
and his holy protections we have all. 

That our troubles are not long since grown too 
hot for us, it is because he cools and allays them. 
That our comforts do not grow cold, and die away 
in our bosoms, it is because he warms and rein- 
forceth them. That we have heard it bluster 
abroad for so many years together in a formidable 
tempest, which hath drenched and drowned so 
great a part of Christendom in blood, and yet the 
storm hath hitherto flown over us : that the clouds 
have been gathering at home too, and so long hung 
black over our heads, and yet not poured them- 
selves forth in showers of vengeance : that Gebal, 
and Ammon, and Amalek, and the rest; that 
Hell, and Rome, and their partizans, our enemies 
on all hands, both foreign and domestic, have beea 
so long confederate against us, saying. Come, and 
let us root them out, that they be no more a peo- 
ple, that the name of the Reformed Church of 
England may be no more in remembrance ; that 
they have so often looked grim, and sour, and 
roared, and ramped upon us, and yet not been 
able to seize us : to what can we justly ascribe all 
this, but to the gracious protections of God's 
shady wings spread over us ? 


It is pity, brethren, we are not more deeply 
apprehensive of it, since so it is. We sit conti- 
nually in the lap and arms of Providence : she is 
at, once our fortress and our store-house : it is to 
her we owe both our defence and supplies ; oar 
safety and our abundance : that we ever had any 
good thing in this world, whether personal or na- 
tional, it is because we have sucked the breasts of 
her consolations : and that we keep and enjoy 
any thing, (while our soul is among lions, while 
we dwell in the midst of cruel and blood-thirsty 
men, as holy David complains a little below my 
text ;) it is because we sit under the shadow of 
her wings. And, since we are, for all this, so over 
apt to forget her, and to pride ourselves in bul- 
warks of our own projecting, God hath seemed 
oftentimes, and now again of late, to be about to 
dismantle all, and to teach us this lesson at the 
dearest rate, if we will not learn it better cheap; 
That we cannot be safe out of his protection ; that 
the shadow of his wings is our best, nay our only 
refuge ; and that, whether we take a refuge for 
the protection of secrecy, or for the protection of 
strength. Of which much might be said, would 
the time permit it : but so much briefly of the first 
privilege, that of safeguard and protection from 
calamities, that they come not upon us. I haste 
to the second ; 

2. If calamities do come, (and who is wholly 
exempt from that common tax, and tribute of 
mortality ?) the expression speaks assistance, too» 


and timely deliverance out of them. Wings, in 
the common notion of the world, signify speed, 

and activity; to rife wfoviia^ xct\ ivifctmctg i^v* as 

Theodoret speaks : God's speedy and efficacious 
Providence, and appearance in time of need to 
deliver his people. It is, therefore, that we give 
the winds wings, and the angels too ; as being the 
swift messengers of God, the nimble Mercuries of 
Heaven. It is therefore, too, that when God ap- 
pears seasonably to deliver his afflicted people, he 
is said in the Psalmt to mount a Cherub, and to 
fly, or to come flying to them upon the wings of 
the wind, or to carry them oflF into safety on the 
wings of an eagle. Birds do not only cover their 
young ones under their wings within the nest : if 
the seat prove dangerous, they take them up, too, 
on their wings, and carry them off* to a safer sta- 

Ye have seen what I have done for you, (saith 
God to the Jewish nation,) f how I bare you upon 
eagles' wings, and brought you to myself. As if 
he had said. When you were in actual bondage, I 
rescued you; not only brooded you under my 
wings in Egypt, and preserved you by my Provi- 
dence, while you were yet in the egg; but I 
hatched you, as it were, even in the iron furnaces 
of Memphis, into political life, and national being ; 
and then brought you out safely, openly, trium- 
phantly, (as the eagle doth her young,) and 

* In T 17. 8. & 18. 10. t P»m. xviii. 10. J Ex.xix.4. 


brought you off, too, into a more prosperous con- 

And may not God bespeak us, too, the people of 
England, in the same language ? When we were 
enslaved at home, (and so in worse than Egyptian 
slavery,) and our Pharaoh, and his proud task- 
masters, made even our lives bitter to us in hard 
bondage, in mortar, and in brick, to build up their 
own proud Babels ; when they had now killed, 
and also taken possession, and divided the spoil, 
and said, in a frolic of their lusty pride. We have 
devoured them, and there is no hope for them in 
their God : then, on the sudden, as an eagle stirreth 
up her nest, and fluttereth over her young, and 
spreadeth abroad her wings, (as Moses* speaks in 
his admirable song,) thus awakening, and exciting 
their natural activity, and emboldening them to 
use it to the utmost ; and when that will not do, 
taketh them up herself, and beareth them away 
upon her own wings : so here, the Lord alone did 
lead us, and there was no other with him ; that is 
Moses's own reddition: when our own pinion 
proved too weak, and all our faint flutterings to 
no purpose ; then, by a miracle of wisdom, power, 
and goodness, he took us up to that gallant and 
wonderful flight, even up to a higher pitch, than 
we durst look, and made us to ride upon the high 
places of the earth, and set our nest again amongst 
the stars. 

* Deut. xxxii. 12. 


And now, when restless and unquiet men (the 
true spawn of him whose tail drew the third part 
of the stars of Heaven,* and cast them to the 
earth,) would fain, by their hellish plots and con- 
trivances, bring us down again from thence, even 
down to the very ground, and lay all our honour 
in the dust : when, by their secret machinations, 
they are at work on all hands to hurry us back 
into the old confusions ; in hope that, out of that 
disordered mass, they may at length rear up a new 
world of their own ; (but what a world ? A world 
made up of a new Heaven of superstition^, and 
idolatries ; a new earth, too, of anarchy first, and 
pretended liberty, but of tyranny insufferable at 
the next remove :) in such a dangerous state of 
afiisdrs as this, whither should we rather (nay 
whither else can we) run for help and deliverance, 
but under his protections, the stretching out of 
whose wings fills the breadth of thy land, O Eng- 
land !t He can make all these cockatrice eggs, 
on which this generation of vipers (that eat out 
the bowels of their mother) have sat so long 
abrood, windy at last, and addle ; and he will do 
it : so that out of the serpent's root shall never 
come forth an adder to bite us, or a fiery flying 
serpent to devour us. He will confound these 
Babel builders, with their city, and their tower, 
or temple, (their foreign polity, and their strange 
worship ; their novel modes, and models of govern- 

* Rev. xii. 4. t Is. viii. 8. 


inent in church and state,) and scatter them 
abroad from hence upon the face of all the earth. 
Like as a dream when one awaketh ; so shall He 
despise their images, and their imaginations, too, 
and cause them to vanish out of the city; and 
make the whole bulk of their vast contrivance to 
consume away like a snail, and become like the 
untimely fruit of a woman, which shall never see 
the sun. He that at first made all things with an 
Almighty word, said only. Let it ie, and it was so ; 
•can, with the same facility, unmake, and annihi- 
late those worlds of wickedness, which these great 
architects of mischief have been so long projecting, 
and building up. It is but for Him to say. It shall 
not prosper^ or This shall not be, and behold the 
mighty machine cracks about their ears, and sinks 
into ruin, into nothing ; leaving no effect behind 
it more real or conspicuous, than a more firm, and 
lasting establishment of that, which God's own 
right hand hath planted amongst us. 

When the earth* at first was without form, and 
Toid, and darkness hovered over the face of the 
deep, the spirit of God (saith the text) moved 
upon the waters. The word in the originalt (as 
St. Hierom tells us from the Hebrew traditions) 
implies, that the Spirit of God sat abrood upon 
the whole rude mass, as birds upon their eggs, 
xal eJoToxuo-f to Trav, J (as a Greek author speaks ele- 
gantly,) and hatch the chaos into world ; by de- 


* Gen. 1.2. t .nDn*iD * Greek Schol on Aratus. 

S£RMONS. 417 

grees digesting, and in the mean tim^ preserving 
and sustaining it by kindly heats, and vital incu- 
bations. And to the like benign and gracious 
purposes doth God still spread the wings of his 
good providence over his people and their affairs, 
in calamitous times, such as this is ; when he may 
seem to stretch out upon the political world the 
line of confusion, and the plummet of emptiness, 
{Tohu and Bohu, the very words which describe 
the first chaos,) as it is Is. xxxiv. 11. And if 
hereupon we put ourselves (as we ought) under 
the saving influences of his wings ; he will either 
digest our confusions into greater order and beauty 
than before, or at least support and cheer us while 
we lie under them; which is the third and last 
privilege implied in this expression. 

3. Coinfort and refreshment in calamities, while 
they are upon us. For the wing is not only the 
retreat of safety from calamities, as in the first 
particular ; nor only the instrument of deliverance 
out of calamities, as in the second : it is also the 
seat of comfort, and the fountain of refreshment, 
when they lie heaviest upon us. 

And here I might spend the hour with much 
delight ; for the prospect is fair and large before 
me. But I am sensible that I have already staid 
too long upon the first head of discourse pro- 
pounded; and so, perhaps, complied too much 
with the common humour, which loves rather 
to be tickled and amused with high privilege, 
than instructed in necessary duty. I shall, there- 

VOL. n. E E 

418 Appendix. 

fore, make ha^te to seize what remains of the time, 
and improve it, to let you see, that all I have said 
hitherto, and the much more I might have said, 
upon that first head of privileges, signifies nothing 
at all, is all blank and cypher to them that go not 
on cheerfully to the second, that of duty. 

II. They that would be safe under God's wings, 
must not only please themselves with the general 
speculation, that safety and protection is there to 
be had : they must also make their refuge there, 
they must put themselves under the shadow of 
those wings by their special act and deed ; must 
deliberately choose and effectually place their last 
resort there ; and, if they will partake the benefits, 
must comply with the obligations of such a state. 
God is our refuge, and our strength, saith holy 
David,* most devoutly, and most methodically 
too : for we must first make him our refuge by 
flying to him, before we can hope that he will be 
our strength. In vain do they dream of God's 
saving protections, that turn their backs upon his 
precepts, and cast his laws behind them. It is 
true, God's altars are our sanctuary ; an inviolable 
asylum in our sufferings, and in our sorrows, in 
our calamities, and in our dangers, for our igno- 
rances, and for our infirmities : but are our crimes 
too privileged and protected there ? That • were 
indeed to turn God's temple into a den of thieves, 
ftnd murderers, (the notorious abuse of the modem 

* P^m. Ixvi, 1 . 

SERMONS.. 419 

sanctuaries ;) and to set up the wing of abomina- 
tions (spoken of by Daniel the Prophet) even in 
the holy place. Nay but pluck them from mine 
altars, (saith God,) or slay them there, that sin 
presumptuously, and with a high hand. God 
will not be so merciful to those that offend of ma- 
licious wickedness, as to receive them, with all 
their sins about them, under that sacred and saving 
protection. The holy dove broods not a kite, or 
a vulture : they are birds quite of another feather. 
If, in good earnest, we would be fostered and 
cherished under God's wings, we must first be 
hatched into his likeness and similitude, be re- 
newed after his image, and be made partakers in 
some measure of the divine nature. 

To hover no longer in generalities ; the fruitful 
metaphor of the text, as you have distinctly seen, 
is big with our privilege ; so to qualify us for that, 
it is as remarkably pregnant with our duty also. 
Among the rest, it clearly suggests to us in three 
noble instances of our duty, so many apt and pro- 
per qualifications to fit and prepare us for God's 
wing. 1 . A pious trust and confidence in God. 
2. A fervent devotion towards God, and his holy 
worship in his temple. And 3. A constant un- 
wearied perseverance in both the former ; for it is 
donee transierint^ until these calamities be over- 
past. And, 

1 . For. trust and affiance in God : it is visible, 
that to fly under God's wings, and to make him 
•ur refuge, and to trust in him, are parallel 

£ £ 2 


phrases, which expound one another ; and differ 
only, as the same sense clad in metaphor, and 
stripped of it again. And therefore some versions, 
both ancient and modern, translate the text, Un- 
der the ^hadotv of thy Wings mil I trust.* It were 
happy for us, were this duty of trust in God but 
as visibly transcribed into our practice, as it is 
originally legible in the text. We all pretend 
high, indeed, and put on a fair semblance here too; 
I believe in God, is our daily language : but, as 
one saith well, Non est strepitu$ oris, sed fervor, ei 
devotio cordis : lip-labour will not serve the turn ;. 
it must go deeper, even to the ground of the heart. 
Would we put in, then, for David's share in the 
privilege, God's mercy, and protection to our 
king, and to ourselves? We must labour then 
for a trust like David's: Be merciful to me, O 
God, (saith he,) for my soul trusteth in thee. 

To bring you to the test, then ; the trust that 
may be trusted to, and that will stand us in stead, 
when calamities invade or threaten us, must have 
these three properties : it is founded and prepared 
in self-difiidence ; it is carried on, and exercised 
in active diligence ; and, lastly, it is consummate 
in full and perfect resignation. 

First, It is founded and prepared in deep self- 
diffidence and distrust ; in a clear abrenunciation 
of ourselves, and all worldly dependencies. The 
chickens are weak and helpless in themselves; 

* Chald Engl. Gen. 


and, as if they knew it too, stay not t6 combat the 
kite, nor stand the dreadful shock when the hawk 
hovers over, and is ready to stoop upon them, but 
run nimbly under the dam's wing for sheltet. 
The very instincts of nature have taught all weak 
things to seek their support out of themselves, in 
some retreat, where they may be safe. Thus the 
fir-trees* are a refuge for the stork ; the high hills 
for the wild goats; and the rocks for the conies. 
The hare hath her covert too, and the foxes their 
holes or dens. Even the weaker and groveling 
plants (as vines, and the like) have their tendrils, 
certain pliant strings, wherewith they naturally 
clasp and twine themselves about the supporters 
they are to climb by. In fine, all nature is wholly 
adjective, and, as if it were conscious to itself of 
its inability to stand alone, is ever in busy quest 
of itd proper substantive that may uphold it. 
Man, as the only bad grammarian, makes still false 
syntax, and false construction; apt to seek his 
refuge where it is not to be had : as if he were 
under that curse upon David's enemies,t not only 
in case to beg his bread, which he finds not at 
home, but to seek it also out of desolate places. 

Thus Jonah sits under his gourd with over- 
much delight, till the worms smite it at the roots, 
and it withers. Rebellious Israel^ trusts in the 
shadow of Egypt, (the land shadowing with wings, 
as the Prophet speaks,) and it proves their confu- 

* Psm. civ. 18. t Psm. cix. 10. J Isa. xxx. 3. 

E E 3 


sion : and we have heard of Cedars of Lebanon, 
that degraded themselves into the protection of a 
bramble, till fire came out of that bramble and 
devoured them. We laugh at the Babel-builders, 
who designed a tower up to Heaven, above the 
reach of Divine vengeance, or any deluge of wrath 
that could come on them. But he had reason 
that said, Totus mundus est pletius turrium Baby- 
hnicarum : not only the plains of Shinar, the whole 
world is full of such towers. We all are apt to 
build castles in the air, some Nff «xoxoxxuy*a, or 
other ; some city of cuckows in the clouds, like 
that in the Greek comedian.* We have all of 
us our gourds, and our brambles to trust in ; apt 
to canonize our own sanctity, and integrity ; to 
idolize our own strength and activity ; to defy our 
own wit and policy. 

But if in good earnest we look toward the co- 
vert of God's wings, and would put in there, we 
must begin negatively ; first moult, and cast all 
our sick feathers, and clip the wings of all our 
carnal confidences, upon which we are apt to soar 
too loftily, before we can make good our flight. 
Confringes ascellasy (so the vulgar Latin reads that 
text, Levit. i. 17.) the sacrifice of birds is not ac- 
cepted, till the wings be broken, that is (saith St. 
Cyril of Alexandriaf) till our pride be mortified. 
God will take us ofi* our false dependencies, and 
will have us clearly quit all (namely as to trust in 

* Aristoph. t De Adorat. lib. 16. 


any of them) and run naked under his defence ; 
and then we are fit for his wing. Say not, then, 
this great nation is a wise and an understanding 
people ; we have counsel, and strength for the 
war ; we are fenced and moated in from the rest 
of the world with the vast ocean ; our island sits a 
queen in the heart of the four seas ; she shall dwell 
in safety alone, and know no sorrow. Let not the 
mighty thus glory in their might, nor the wise in 
their wisdom ; but he that glorieth, let him glory 
in the Lord. 

And of this, holy David stands here before us a 
great example. He trusts, not in the wings of his 
army, but in the Lord of hosts and battles ; not in 
the shadow of his cave, but in the shadow of 
<}od's wings ; not in the height o^ his rock, but in 
the rock of ages. Though, being a jfiBn of war, he 
well understood the grand importance of a castle 
well seated and fortified ; of a mount oc rock in- 
accessible ; of a cave in that rock capacious and 
defensible, (such as Strabo tells us there were 
many in Palestine ; and such were probably the 
cave of AduUam, and the strong holds of Engedi, 
and the rest, which we meet with so often in 
David's story :) yet severed and abstracted from 
the Divine protections, he slights all these, as 
paper walls, and cobweb fortifications : and know- 
ing he could not be safe on this side Omnipo- 
tence, he styles God almost in every Psalm, his 
rock, and his castle, his fortress, and his strong- 
hold, his high-tower, and the hill of his defence : 

£ E 4 


that is the first property of his trust ; it begins in 
great self-diffidence : but. 

Secondly. It goes on in active diligence. The 
young one hath its last retreat indeed under the 
dam's wing: yet the little wing it hath of its own, it 
employs to bring it thither. The eagle in Moses's 
song, as I noted before, not only bears its carets 
on her own wings, but stirs up her nest too, and 
provokes them first to do their uttermost. 

Though David resolved well, *I will not trust 
in my bow; yet he used it sure. It was not 
Goliah's sword that could save him ; yet gladly 
he girt himself with it, when the High Priest 
reached it him. There is no king, saith he, that 
can be saved by the multitude of an host ; yet he 
refiised not the volunteers that came to list them- 
selves under him. He fled from Saul with all 
diligence into the cave ; though he had still a re- 
fuge beyond it. Though he sets up his rest under 
God's Wings ; yet, t Oh, (saith he) that I had the 
wings of a dove too, that I might fly away to my 

The moral, and the reddition of all is but thus 
much. We all of us have wings of our own too ; 
faculties, and abilities, that must be used (why 
else were they given us ?) though they must not 
be trusted in. The most excellent Father Paul 
of the :};Servi of Venice was libelled in the holy 
office (as they call it) for advising one that pre- 

* Psm. xliv. 6. xxxiii. 16. f Psm. Iv. 6. 

X See his Life. 

SEBM0N8. 426 

tended to immediate iniipirations and assistances, 
to use human means and industries, and so to ex- 
pect God's blessing. But the inquisitors were for 
once so wise, as to absolve him without exami- 

Our Psalmist states the matter well. * Trust 
in the Lord, saith he, but be doing good too, and 
so verily thou shalt be fed. Commit thy way 
unto the Lord, and he shall bring it to pass : but 
walk in it thyself ; how is it else thy way? t Com- 
mit the keeping of thy soul, (saith the Apostle, 
and so, commend the keeping of the public too,) 
to God : but still h iya^oironay in well doing, in 
doing thy duty in thy station in all the instances 
of it. 

In the age of miracles, indeed, when the sea 
divided, and suddenly turned green meadow; and 
when an angel went forth and dispatched so many 
thousands in a night : well might the watch- word 
be, stand still and see the salvation of God ; the 
Lord shall fight for you, and ye shall do nothing. 
But the season is changed, and it is now — Come 
forth, and help the Lord against the mighty ; and 
work out your own salvation, (and so the salva- 
tion of the nation too,) because it is God that 
works : that is St. Paul's logic. 

We must not presume to use our Lord, as 
Herod did ; call for him, when we please, to work 
us a fine miracle ; neglect our affairs, and leave 

* Psm. xjLXvii. 3 — 5. t 1 Pet. iv. ult. 


them embroiled and ruffled on purpose that he 
may come down diro fAVix/^yiHi, to disentangle them. 

The glory of God descends not visibly now 
a-days upon our palaces, as of old upon the Taber- 
nacle of the Congregation, to rescue our Moses 
and Aaron from being massacred by a desperate 
knot of mutineers : nor doth the earth open her 
mouth any longer, to swallow up our rebels and 
traitors alive. It is a sceptre of ordinary justice, 
not a rod of wonders, that fills the hand of our 
governors. We must not expect that a good 
cause should work alone of itself by way of mira- 
cle : believe it, it must be prudently, and indus- 
triously managed too, or it must at last miscarry. 

For instance, (the instance of the present time:) 
the devils of sedition and faction, of treason and 
rebellion, those familiars of Rome, and Rheims, 
and St. Omers, (the Jesuits I mean, that have so 
long possessed and agitated a wretched part of 
this nation) will never go out from hence, and 
leave us at quiet, no, not by prayer and fasting 
only. Nay, the best laws we have, the best you 
can make, (if they be not steadily, and severely 
executed) will prove too slight a conjuration for 
these sturdy evil spirits of disobedience. There 
is another and a better Flagellum Damonum^ than 
that of Hieronymus Alengis, and his fellow exor- 
cists. Holy water is a trifle; and holy words 
will not do it. There is no such thing as Me- 
dicina per verba : words and talk will never cure 
the distempers of a nation. Deaf adders refuse 


all the voice of the charmer, charm he never so 
wisely. If, in good earnest, we would be rid of 
this legion, and say, as our Lord to the deaf and 
dumb spirit, go out, and enter no more ; (what 
shall I say? — in short,) Solomons rod* for the 
back of fools that grow troublesome or dangerous 
(as it may be prepared and managed) is a very 
powerful and effectual exorcism. Untamed horses, 
and skittish mules, that will have no understand- 
ing, are not edified at all by calm reasonings, and 
instructions and meek remonstrances; nor in any 
other method so well as by David's expedient ; 
^[infr^efio et como; their mouths must be kept in 
vrith bit and bridle, that it may not be possible 
for them to fall upon you; and so ye may be 
secure of them. 

But the fitting up of David's bridle, and Solo- 
mon's rod, and the right use of both, is the busi- 
ness of another place. I shall resume the general 
thesis, and so shut up this particular. I say, then, 
they trust not in Grod, they presume and tempt 
him who work not together with him, but receive 
his aids in vain, and look that he should bring 
about in extraordinary manner, what they take 
no care of themselves; but lie flat upon their 
backs looking upward, and will stir neither hand 
nor foot to help themselves. Nay, but % Viriliter 
agitCf et confortabit cor^ as it is in the Psalm ; play 
the men yourselves, do all that you can or ought 

* Prov. xix. 29. f ?•>»• Moui. 9. X Ps*n- «xi. 24. 


to do, within your proper sphere ; and so God 
will strengthen your hearts, all ye that prt 
your trust in the Lord. Wings, as they are tk 
covert of safety, so also the emblems of diligence, 
and the instruments of activity : and as they show 
us our privilege, may teach us also this part of 
our duty, — to trust only in God's wings, but to 
use our own too ; that is the progress of David's 
trust ; it goes on in active diligence. 

Thirdly. It is consummate (as in the last act) 
in clear, and perfect resignation to God's good 
pleasure in the event, whatever it be. They trust 
not in God entirely, and as they ought, that rely 
only on his power, and dare not submit to his 
wisdom also ; that would gladly engage Omnipo- 
tence on their side (and can you blame them?) 
but then they would manage it their own way, 
and in methods of their own contriving, and to 
ends, it may be, far distant from what God hath 
appointed: as if he would work journey-work 
under them, and leave them to be masters of the 
great shop of the world. No; but as Luther said 
well, when his friend Melanchthon troubled him- 
self over-much at some cross events ; Desinat Phh 
lippus esse Rector Mundi: it is God alone, who sitB 
in heaven, and doth whatever pleaseth him. If we 
be not content with the portion he allots us, but 
will needs be carving for ourselves elsewhere, (ur 
otherwise : or if we be not satisfied with his coDr 
duct of the affairs of the world, but think, with 
the great Alphonso, that we could mend the sys- 


tern : what is this but in effect to turn our backs 
upon Grody and to set up for ourselves upon our 
own wretched stocky and implicitly at least to re- 
nounce the shadow of his wings, and all the privi- 
leges of it? Pulli non prospicitmt^ saith one: young 
birds have no designs or forecasts of their own, 
but are wholly under the dam's conduct. And if 
we are allowed to have any ourselves, be they 
never so deeply laid, or so wisely contrived ; so 
skilfully managed, or so vigorously pursued ; we 
must at last entirely submit, and sacrifice them 
all to that sovereign wisdom and power, which 
ruleth in the kingdoms of men, and orders them 
in all things according to the good pleasure of his 

To sum up, then, this whole great duty of affi- 
ance in Grod, with all the parts and branches of 
it; he trusts regularly in God, that trusts in no- 
thing else, first: and yet, secondly, doth every 
thing he can, or is obliged to do by his duty : and 
thirdly, when he hath done all, sits down at last 
under the shadow of God's wings, and waits the 
success in faith and hope, with perfect resignation 
to God's wise and just appointment in all things! 
that is the first duty implied in the expression, a 
pious trust, and confidence in God. The second 
is an ardent and flaming devotion towards God,, 
^nd his holy worship and service in his temple r 
Under the shadow of thy Wings will I make my re- 
fuge i it is certainly an allusion to the Holy of 
Holies, where was the Ark of the Covenant, the 


symbol of God's gracious presence, over which the 
cherubim of glory stretched forth their wings on 
high, and shadowed the mercy-seat:* between 
which wings was God's dwelling-place, his She- 
kinah, or majestatic presence. And therefore 
when Ruth the Moabitess became proselyte to the 
Jewish religion and worship, she is said to come 
to trust under the wings of the God of Israel, 
Ruth ii- 12, 

There are also Ala Ecclesiarum, which we meet 
with in church- writers ; as we corruptly call them 
the isles of churches; and in the Gospel itself 
v\t(vyta tZ *Iff S, pinnacles, or (if we will render it 
close and just) wings of the teniple : from the saving 
covert and protection whereof, as it is the devils 
business to tempt and withdraw us, and so to cast 
us down from one of our noblest heights and de- 
fences: so, on the contrary, holy David's great 
example here, and the clear importance of the 
words of my text, lead us directly thither, (that 
is the last and most illustrious resort of the ex- 
pression,) and bring us up with boldness to seek, 
and make our refuge even under the wings of the 
cherubim of glory. 

And, indeed, where can we find on earth so 
safe, or so comfortable a retreat, when qalamities 
assail, or threaten us, as here in the house of our 
God ? doth not his cross stand over it on purpose 
to direct us hither, when we are ready to sink 

* Exod. XXV. 20. xxix. 5. 


under the burthen of our own? When God's 
judgments are abroad in the^ world, and the 
avenger of our sins pursues us ; more particularly, 
when the land is moved and divided ; when the 
pillars thereof shake and tremble, and the founda- 
tions are ready to be cast down ; when all things 
are in ferment, and in commotion round about us, 
and men's hearts ready to fail them for fear, and 
for looking after those things which are coming 
upon the earth; where should we rather take 
sanctuary, where can we more probably find help, 
and redress, than at the altar of the God of mercy, 
and under the shadow of the wings of his mercy- 
seat ? 

This was holy David's steady resolve, when his 
heart was overwhelmed, as he speaks, Psal. Ixi. 2. 
I will abide in thy tabernacle for ever; I will 
trust (or, I will make my refuge) in the covert of 
thy wings, ver. 4 : and when his aflSictions put him 
beside that guard, set him at distance from those 
happy opportunities, took him down from those 
blessed heights ; yet still, even at the lowest, * I 
will lift up mine eyes, saith he, to the hills, (at 
least cast a long look toward Sion) from whence 
cometh my help. This was the sting of all his 
sorrows, as it were the calamity royal he so groans 
under, almost in every Psalm ; not that Saul, or 
Absalom had driven him from his own, but from 
God's House. Though the Holy Land was of no 

* Fsm. oqd. 1. 


large extent : yet, as if he had been banished to 
the Antipodes^ From the ends of the earth, saitb 
he, have I cried unto thee, Psal. Ixi. 2. Though 
his devotion consecrated every place he came 
into; turned the cave into a chapel, and the 
wilderness of Judah into holy ground ; and I had 
almost said, even Gath of the Philistines into a 
holy city ; (for we have Psalms dated from every 
one of these ;) yet still he sighs. Oh restore me, 
Oh bring me. Oh set me up upon a rock that is 
higher than I : he means, without doubt, the Hill 
of Sion, the Pico of Jewry, where God's house 
was established up6n the tops of the mountains, 
as the prophet speaks, Isa. ii. 2. 

Men, and brethren, you that make up the more 
popular part of this mixed audience ; let me freely 
speak to you of the Patriarch David, and of your- 
selves. Blessed be the mercies of God, you lie 
under no such restraint, or interdict, as he did : 
you are not banished into the wilderness, nor 
shut up in the cave : the doors of God's house 
stand open to you, if you please ; and the wings 
of his mercy are stretched out wide to invite, and 
receive you; would you but come in, and put 
yourselves under the shadow of them. Let it not 
be said, that your curiosity, or some worse hu- 
mour, leads you quite another way : that you are 
over careful, and troubled about many things, 
which belong not to you, while you neglect the 
one thing necessary, the great duty of this, and 
of every day ; namely, to implore God's mercy 


and protection upon the king and his kingdoms, 
and His direction and blessing upon the public 
counsels. Let my counsel, I pray, be acceptable 
unto you. Study to be quiet, and to do your 
own business : and that lies not in the court, or 
in the palace, but here in the temple. It is not 
to listen at the doors of the two Houses of Parlia- 
ment, or to eves-drop the Council-Chamber ; but 
to wait in your proper stations with modesty and 
patience, what avisoes and commands are sent 
you from thence, and to comply with them. In- 
stead of thronging and pestering the galleries and 
avenues of those places, where matters of state 
are upon the table ; what a blessed appearance 
were it in times of danger, such as this is, to see 
the church doors always open, and the great 
stream and shoal of people continually flowing 
thither ; and to find some of you always upon the 
floor there. Weeping between the porch and the 
altar, and saying. Spare thy people, O Lord, and 
give not thy heritage to reproach. Thou hast 
brought up a vine out of Egypt : Thou hast cast 
out the heathen, and planted it. Let not the 
wild boar out of the wood root it up, nor the wild 
beast of the field devour it. Let thy hand be 
upon the man of thy right hand, whom thou hast 
made so strong for thyself. Keep him, as the 
apple of thine eye; hide him under the shadow' 
of thy wings. Let his days be many, and his 
reign prosperous ; and under his shadow let both 
church and state long flourish : and let them be' 



confounded, and driven backward^ as many as 
kave evil will at Sion. 

To fumisk oirt an office for such daily devotions, 
it is but to take your Psalter along with you in 
your hand, which is full of them. But especially 
let me commend to you that decad of Psalms, 
which begins with the 54th, and so on : which 
may seem to have been put together on purpose 
for such an occasion. This would be indeed ef- 
fectually to transcribe holy David's copy, in this 
bis exemplary and ardent devotion : which is the 
second duty required in the text, to prepare us 
for the protection of God's wing. There is but 
one more behind ; and that is 

3. Constant perseverance in both the former. 

In. the two former you have seen holy David 
putting himself under the shadow of God's wings, 
and making good his refuge there, by acts of faith 
and devotion. And being once there, no storm 
shall beat him off, no discouragement shall drive 
b>m away, no delay shall weary him out. If God 
kills him, it is all one, he will trust in him still, 
and die in his arms : for here he hath set up his 
rest, and donee transierint, he is steadily resolved ; 
his refuge is, and shall be, here, till these calami- 
ties are over-past. 

But here we must take heed of a great mistake. 
There are, that hold the donee in the text too 
hard and stiff; are too punctual and precise with 
God in it : who will trust in him, it may be, and 
ply their devotions just so long, as till the cala- 


mity be past : but then on the sudden their trust 
grows feeble, and their devotion cold, and heart- 
less : No sooner delivered, but, like old Israel, 
they forget God at the sea, even at the Red Sea ; 
— use him like Themistocles's planetrees, under 
which men run for shelter in storm; but the 
shower once over, they pluck oflF the branches, 
turn their backs, and away. 

Nay, but there is in Scripture language an in- 
finite and an interminable donee, which never ex- 
pires. * He knew her not, till she brought forth ; 
nay, he never knew her. In spite of Helvidius, 
ABiragGcvo;, (as the Greek church style her) a virgin 
before, and in, and after the birth of our Lord, and 
for ever. Aye, that's the virgin's soul indeed, that 
keeps ever close to her heavenly spouse : not only 
nms under his wings for shelter, when calamities 
affright her, saying. Spread thy skirt over me, and 
then strays away again, as soon as ever the flat- 
tering calm, and sunshine of prosperity tempts 
her abroad. As our Lord hath given us an ever- 
lasting donee : Lo I am with you, saith he, till the 
end of the world : (not that he will leave us then, 
but take us yet nigher unto himself, and so we 
shall ever be with the Lord, as the Apostle 
speaks zf) so must we also have one for him of the 
same latitude and extension. For ever under the 
shadow of his wings ; till this single tyranny, as 
in the old translation — all these calamities, as in 

* Matth. i. uU. t 1 The«s- >▼• ^7. 

F f2 


the new — or as the Hebrew implies, till all and 
every of our calamities be bver-past. Both before, 
and in, and after calamities, still under the sha- 
dow of God's wings. While they last, it is In the 
shadow of thy wings will I trust: and when they 
are passed, it is In the shadow of thy wings will I 
rgoice; that is all the difference. As the scenes 
shift, our devotion must improve, and advance 
too ; till our prayer be heightened into praise, (as 
I trust ere long it will be,) our hope swallowed 
in enjoyment, and our trust sublimated, and 
made to flower up into joy and triumph : when 
the same God that raised David from the cave to 
the throne, shall translate us also from the shadow 
of his wings into the light of his countenance: 
to the Beatifical Vision whereof he of his mercy 
bring us, who hath so dearly bought it for us, 
Jesus Christ the Righteous : to whom with thee, 
O Father, and God the Holy Ghost, be ascribed 
of us, and all the creatures in heaven and earth, 
blessing, honour, glory, and power, both now, 
and for evermore. AMEN. 







I. — On the relative Merits of tde Presbyteruns and In- 
dependents. — See reference to it^ vol. i. p. 61. 

II. — On tor Measure of Obedience to be paid to an usurped 
AuTuoRiTY. — See reference to it, vol. i. p. 62. 


Dr. Sanderson to N. N., respecting the relative 
Merits of the Presbyterians and the Independents. 

1 0th April, 1649. 


I THANK you for the loan of your took 
(Robert Baillie's Dissuasive from Error). The 
author is not the same man I thought, but another 
of the same name, and a strong Presbyterian : 
who, as he hath sufficiently discovered the absur- 
dity of some of the Independent opinions consi- 
dered apart, and by themselves ; so I cannot but 
admire (but that I see by every day's experience 
how grossly, out of affection to their preconceived 
fancies, men, otherwise understanding enough, ate 
blinded with prejudices) how the author could 
choose but see, that most of the assertions both 
of Brownists and Independents, are but the na- 
tural conclusions and results of their own pre- 
mises. These kind of writings do exceedingly 
confirm me in my old opinions ; scilicet^ that, the 
grounds of our busy reformers supposed true, 
either of these ways is infinitely more rational, 
and defensible, and more consentaneous to the 
principles whereon the endeavours of reformation 
are built, than the Presbyterian way is. This^ 
methinks, I durst adventure to make clear to the 
understanding of any rational man^ in very many 

F F 4 


of the erroneous tenets and practices mentioned 
by this author ; and, namely, in these twenty fol- 

1 . That they separate from the Church of Eng- 
land, as idolatrous in the worship, Anti-christian 
in the government, and profane in the members. 
2. That they refuse all Church Communion, and 
membership with and in all the reformed churches 
in the world, even the Presbyterian also. 3. That 
they acknowledge no national, or otherwise visi- 
ble, churches, than those of particular congrega- 
tions. 4. That they admit none, as members of 
their congregational church, which cannot give a 
sufficient assurance to the whole congregation that 
they are in a state of grace. 5. That neither king 
nor parliament, nor any civil magistrate, hath any 
power to order matters of religion, worship, or 
discipline. 6. That all church power is in the 
people, either alone, or jointly with their officers. 
7. That ecclesiastical causes and censures are not 
to be determined by the greater number of voices, 
but by the full and unanimous consent of all that 
have right to vote. 8. That the celebration of 
marriage belongs to the magistrate, not to the 
minister. 9. That they allow not any human 
directories for worship. 10. Nor the usual names 
of the days and months. 11. Nor the calling of 
their meeting places, churches. 12. Nor singing 
of Psalms, unless by a singing prophet extempore. 
13. Nor the maintenance of ministers by tithes, 
glebes, or set stipends, but only by voluntary 


contributions. 14. Nor the baptizing of infants, 
save only such whose immediate parents are ac- 
tually members of their congregational church. 
15. That they celebrate the Lord's Supper at 
night, after the other ordinances ended. 16. That 
it is expedient to sit covered at the Lord's table. 
17. That it is no more lawful to preach or admi- 
nister the Sacraments in a black gown than in a 
white surplice. 18. That they allow men of any 
calling to prophesy, and exercise their gifts in the 
congregation. 19. That they may exconmiuni- 
cate any magistrate, (yea, the king himself not 
excepted,) being a member of their church, for 
any error or fault, either in belief or life. 20. 
That the magistrate cannot make any permanent 
laws concerning any thing which God's word hath 
left at liberty. 

These twenty points, with sundry others of 
theirs, and of the Anabaptists, yet grosser than 
theirs, as I hold them very absurd, false, and dan- 
gerous, so I verily believe them all to be very 
clearly justified by the Presbyterian's and Non- 
conformist's grounds. I therefore heartily wish 
that the forward Reformers would impartially re- 
view their own dictates, before they cry down 
either Brownists, Independents, or even the Ana- 
baptists themselves, lest they choke them with 
the Proverb, MedicCy cura teipsum. If their teeth 
be set on edge by the sourness of the fruit, why 
should they complain, or who will pity them, so 
long as they cherish the root that bred it, and 


feedeth it ? For my own part, since I came to 
any knowledge at all, or experience of the church 
differences, I have ever professed, and must still 
do, that, if I saw ground enough to make me a 
Smectymnion, I know not what could stay me, 
but I must on to Brownism, or Independency, or 
God knows what other unborn fancy, if not rather 
to absolute Anabaptism, or something beyond 4t, 
unless I would renounce my own reason, and sin 
against my conscience. 

Truly, when I have well considered of them, I 
find no security at all, either in Popish or Puri- 
tanical principles. Yet, of the two. Popery hath 
this advantage, that it keeps the proselyte (though 
with insufferable tyranny, yet) confined within 
some limits and bounds, like water shut up within 
the banks of a muddy unsavory lake : whereas 
this wild thing, for want of a more proper name 
commonly called Puritanism, like a sea-breacb, 
runs itself into a thousand channels, and knows 
not where to stop. When we have wrangled our- 
selves as long as our wits and strengths will serve 
us, the honest, downright sober English Protestant 
will be found, in the end, the man in the safest 
way, and by the surest line : who, 

1. Maketh the written word of God the sole 
and perfect rule of all matters properly of faith, 
and of all the essentials of God's worship, and of 
Church government. 

2. As for all matters of ceremony and order, 
and other accidental forms and circumstances be- 


longing either to church government, or worship, 
he leaves the particular determination thereof (as 
of all political ordinances) to the civil and eccle- 
siastical governor respectively. 

3. But in all other matters, whether of opinion 
in points of smaller importance or not clearly re- 
vealed ; or of practice in things not commanded 
nor forbidden by any higher power, he useth the 
liberty of his own judgment and discretion, (leav- 
ing all others also to do the like,) according to the 
general rules of Christian sobriety and charity. 

In this religion I have lived hitherto (by the 
grace of God) not without comfort ; and in this 
religion (the same grace assisting me) I hope to 
die: and so, living and dying, if my walking 
swerve not from my professions, I know that, by 
His mercy, I shall not miscarry. 

Your neighbour and brother in Christ, 

R. Sanderson. 


Dr. Sanderson to N. N., on the Obedience to be 
paid to an usurped Authority. 

Upon perusal of Mr. Ascham's book* 
you left with me, I find not myself in my under- 

* The following is the title of the book here referred to; " A 
Discourse wherein is examined what is particularly lawful during 
the Confusions and Revolutions of Grovemments : or, how far a 


standing convinced thereby of the necessity or 
lawfulness of conforming unto, or complying with, 
an unjust prevailing power, further than I was 
before persuaded it might be lawful or necessary 
so to do; viz. paying taxes, and submitting to 
some othor things (in themselves not unlawful) 
by them imposed, or required, such as I had a 
lawful liberty to have done in the same manner, 
though they had not been so commanded, and 
seem to me, in the conjuncture of present circum- 
stances, prudentially necessary to preserve myself, 
or my neighbour, from the injuries of those that 
would be wilUng to make use of my non-submis- 
sion, to mine or his ruin. So as it be done, 1. 
Without any violation either of duty to Grod, or 
of any other just obligation that lies upon me by 
oath, law, or otherwise. 2. Only in the case of 
necessity not otherwise to be avoided. 3. With- 
out any explicit or implicit acknowledgment of 
the justice or legality of their power, I may 
submit to the AuvajiAif, but not acknowledge the 
fg«(r»a, or by any my voluntary act give strength, 
assistance, or countenance thereunto. 4. Without 
any prejudice unto the claim of the oppressed 
party, that hath a right title ; or casting myself 
into an incapacity of lending him my due and 
bounden assistance, if, in time to come, it may be 
useful to him toward the recovery of his right. 

Man may lawfully conform to the Powers and Commands of those 
who, with various Successes, hold Kingdoms divided by Civfl or 
Foreign Wars." By Anthony Ashcam, Gent. Liondon. 1648. 


5. WTiere I may reasonably and bona fide pre- 
sume that the oppressed power, to whom my obe- 
dience is justly due, if he perfectly knew the 
present condition I am in, together with the exi- 
gence and necessity of the present case, and of all 
the circumstances thereof, would give his willing 
consent to such conformity or compliance. So 
that, upon the whole matter, and in short, I con- 
ceive I may so far submit to the impositions, or 
comply with the persons of a prevailing usurped 
power, unjustly commanding things in themselves 
not unlawful, or make use of their power to pro- 
tect me from others' injuries, as I may submit 
unto, comply with, or make use of, a highway 
thief or robber, when I am fallen into his hands, 
and lie at his mercy. 

As for Mr. Ascham's discourse, though it be 
handsomely framed, yet all the strength of it, to 
my seeming, lies upon two principles, which, if 
he would speak out, would be in plain English 
these : — 

1 . That self-preservation is the first and chiefest 
obligation in the world, to which all other chief 
obligations (at least between man and man) must 
give place. 

2. That no oath, (at least no imposed oath) in 
what terms soever expressed, binds the taker fur- 
ther than he intended to bind himself thereby; 
and it is to be presumed, that no man intended to 
bind himself to the prejudice of his own safety. 

Two dangerous and desperate principles, which 


evidently tend to the taking away of all Christian 
fcttitude, and suffering in a righteous cause ; to 
the encouraging of daring and ambitious spirits to 
attempt continual innovations, with this confi- 
dence, that if they can by any ways, how unjust 
soever, possess themselves of the supreme power, 
they ought to be submitted unto ; to the obstruct- 
ing unto the oppressed party all possible ways 
and means, without a miracle, of ever recovering 
that just right, of which he shall have been unjustly 
dispossessed ; and (to omit further instancing) to 
the bringing in of Atheism, with the contempt of 
God and all religion ; whilst every man, by msJring 
his own preservation the measure of all duties and 
actions, makes himself thereby his own idol. 


LnniloB : Pviaud bj C. towonh. 
IteH-yarU, Ttaipl«-lMr. 


f a S 4 8 • 7 • • 

D'OYLY, George 


The life of wnilan 


Sancroft, AretaiblBtaop