ing daily to so high and mutual affections, that their two wills seemed to be but one and the same; and designs both for the glory of God, and peace of the church; still assisting and improving each other's virtues, and the desired comforts of a peaceable piety; which I have willingly mentioned, because it gives a foundation to some things that follow.

This parsonage of Bourne is from Canterbury three miles, and near to the common road that leads from that city to Dover; in which parsonage Mr. Hooker had not been twelve months, but his books, and the innocency and sanctity of his life became so remarkable, that many turned out of the road, and others (scholars especially) went purposely to see the man, whose life and learning were so much admired; and alas! as our Saviour said of St. John the Baptist, "What went they out to see! a man clothed in purple and fine linen?" No, indeed; but an obscure, harmless man; a man in poor clothes, his loins usually girt in a coarse gown, or canonical coat; of a mean stature, and stooping, and yet more lowly in the thoughts of his soul; his body worn out, not with age, but study and holy mortifications; his face full of heat pimples, begot by his inactivity and sedentary life. And to this true character of his person, let me add this of his disposition and behaviour; God and nature blessed him with so

blessed a bashfulness, that as in his younger days his pupils might easily look him out of countenance; so neither then, nor in his age, did he ever willingly look any man in the face; and was of so mild and humble a nature, that his poor parish-clerk and he did never talk but with both their hats on, or both off, at the same time; and to this may be added, that though he was not purblind, yet he was short or weak sighted; and where he fixed his eyes at the beginning of his sermon, there they continued till it was ended; and the reader has a liberty to believe that his modesty and dim sight were some of the reasons why he trusted Mrs. Churchman to choose a wife for him.

memory by Sir William and the poor clerk had

This parish-clerk lived till the third or fourth year of the late Long Parliament; betwixt which time and Mr. Hooker's death, there had come many to see the place of his burial, and the monument dedicated to his Cooper (who still lives); many rewards for showing Mr. Hooker's graveplace and his said monument, and did always hear Mr. Hooker mentioned with commendations and reverence; to all which he added his own knowledge and observations of his humility and holiness in all which discourses the poor man was still more confirmed in his opinion of Mr. Hooker's virtues and learning. But it so fell out,

:

that about the said third or fourth year of the Long Parliament, the present parson of Bourne was sequestered (you may guess why), and a Genevan minister put into his good living. This, and other like sequestrations, made the clerk express himself in a wonder, and say, "They had sequestered so many good men, that he doubted if his good master, Mr. Hooker, had lived till now, they would have sequestered him too."

It was not long before this intruding minister had made a party in and about the said parish, that were desirous to receive the sacrament as in Geneva; to which end the day was appointed for a select company, and forms and stools set about the altar or communion-table for them to sit and eat and drink; but when they went about this work, there was a want of some joint-stools, which the minister sent the clerk to fetch, and then to fetch cushions. When the clerk saw them begin to sit down, he began to wonder: but the minister bade him "cease wondering and lock the church door." To whom he replied, "Pray, take you the keys and lock me out, I will never come more into this church; for all men will say my Master Hooker was a good man and a good scholar, and I am sure it was not used to be thus in his days" and report says, the old man went presently home and died; I do not say died immediately, but within a few days after.

But let us leave this grateful clerk in his quiet grave, and return to Mr. Hooker himself, continuing our observations of his Christian behaviour in this place, where he gave a holy valediction to all the pleasures and allurements of earth; possessing his soul in a virtuous quietness, which he maintained by constant study, prayers, and meditations. His use was to preach once every Sunday, and he or his curate to catechize after the second lesson in the evening prayer. His sermons were neither long nor earnest, but uttered with a grave zeal and a humble voice: his eyes always fixed on one place, to prevent his imagination from wandering; insomuch that he seemed to study as he spake. The design of his sermons (as indeed of all his discourses) was to show reasons for what he spake; and with these reasons such a kind of rhetoric, as did rather convince and persuade, than frighten men into piety: studying not so much for matter (which he never wanted), as for apt illustrations to inform and teach his unlearned hearers by familiar examples, and then make them better by convincing applications; never laboring by hard words, and then by needless distinctions and sub-distinctions to amuse his hearers and get glory to himself, but glory only to God. Which intention, he would often say, was as discernible in a preacher, as an artificial from a natural beauty."

He never failed the Sunday before every Ember-week to give notice of it to his parishioners, persuading them both to fast, and then to double their devotions for a learned and pious clergy, but especially for the last; saying often, "that the life of a pious clergyman was visible rhetoric, and so convincing that the most godless men (though they would not deny themselves the enjoyment of their present lusts) did yet secretly wish themselves like those of the strictest lives." And to what he persuaded others, he added his own example of fasting and prayer; and did usually, every Ember-week, take from the parish-clerk the key of the church door, into which place he retired every day, and locked himself for many hours; and did the like most Fridays, and other days of fasting.

up

He would by no means omit the customary time of procession, persuading all, both rich and poor, if they desired the preservation of love, and their parish rights and liberties, to accompany him in his perambulation; and most did so: in which perambulation, he would usually express more pleasant discourse than at other times, and would then always drop some loving and facetious observations, to be remembered against the next year, especially by the boys and young people; still inclining them, and all his present parishioners, to meekness and mutual kindnesses and love;