In the year 1600, and of his age forty-six, he fell into a long and sharp sickness, occasioned by a cold taken in his passage betwixt London and Gravesend, from the malignity of which he was never recovered; for till his death, he was not free from thoughtful days and restless nights; but a submission to His will that makes the sick man's bed easy, by giving rest to his soul, made his very languishment comfortable; and yet all this time he was solicitous in his study, and said often to Dr. Saravia (who saw him daily, and was the chief comfort of his life), “That he did not beg a long life of God, for any other reason, but to live to finish his three remaining books of Polity; and then, Lord, let thy servant depart in peace; which was his usual expression. And God heard his prayers, though he denied the benefit of them as completed by himself; and it is thought he hastened his own death, by hastening to give life to his books. But this is certain, that the nearer he was to his death, the more he grew in humility, in holy thoughts and resolutions.

About a month before his death, this good man, that never knew, or at least never considered the pleasures of the palate, became first to lose his appetite, and then to have an averseness to all food, insomuch, that he seemed to live some intermitted weeks by the smell of meat only, and yet still studied and wrote. And now his guardian angel

seemed to foretell him, that his years were passed away as a shadow, bidding him prepare to follow the generation of his fathers, for the day of his dissolution drew near; for which his vigorous soul appeared to thirst.

In this time of his sickness, and not many days before his death, his house was robbed; of which he having notice, his question was, "Are my books and written papers safe?" and being answered that they were, his reply was, "Then it matters not, for no other loss can trouble me."

About one day before his death, Dr. Saravia, who knew the very secrets of his soul (for they were supposed to be confessors to each other), came to him, and after a conference of the benefit, the necessity, and safety of the church's absolution, it was resolved the Doctor should give him both that and the sacrament the day following. To which end the Doctor came, and after a short retirement and privacy, they returned to the company; and then the Doctor gave him and some of those friends that were with him the blessed sacrament of the body and blood of our Lord Jesus. Which being performed, the Doctor thought he saw a reverend gayety and joy in his face; but it lasted not long; for his bodily infirmities did return suddenly, and became more visible; insomuch, that the Doctor apprehended death ready to seize him yet, after some amendment, left him

at night, with a promise to return early the day following; which he did, and then found him better in appearance, deep in contemplation, and not inclinable to discourse; which gave the Doctor occasion to inquire his present thoughts; to which he replied, "That he was meditating the number and nature of angels, and their blessed obedience and order, without which, peace could not be in heaven; and oh! that it might be so on earth! " After which words, he said, "I have lived to see this world is made up of perturbations, and I have been long preparing to leave it, and gathering comfort for the dreadful hour of making my account with God, which I now apprehend to be near: And though I have by his grace loved him in my youth, and feared him in mine age, and labored to have a conscience void of offence to him, and to all men; yet if thou, O Lord, be extreme to mark what I have done amiss, who can abide it? And, therefore, where I have failed, Lord, show mercy to me; for I plead not my righteousness, but the forgiveness of my unrighteousness, for his merits who died to purchase a pardon for penitent sinners. And since I owe thee a death, Lord, let it not be terrible, and then take thine own time; I submit to it. Let not mine, O Lord, but let thy will be done." With which expression he fell into a dangerous slumber; dangerous as to his recovery; yet recover he did,

but

100

THE LIFE OF RICHARD HOOKER.

it was to speak only these few words; "Good Doctor, God hath heard my daily petitions; for I am at peace with all men, and he is at peace with me; and from which blessed assurance, I feel that inward joy which this world can neither give nor take from me." More he would have spoken, but his spirits failed him; and, after a short conflict betwixt nature and death, a quiet sigh put a period to his last breath, and so he fell asleep.

And here I draw his curtain, till with the most glorious company of the patriarchs and apostles, the most noble army of martyrs and confessors, this most learned, most humble, holy man, shall also awake to receive an eternal tranquillity, and with it a greater degree of glory than common Christians shall be made partakers of In the mean time, bless, O Lord! Lord, bless his brethren, the clergy of this nation, with ardent desires, and effectual endeavours to attain, if not to his great learning, yet to his remarkable meekness, his godly simplicity, and his Christian moderation, for these are praiseworthy; these bring peace at the last! And let the labors of his life, his most excellent writings, be blessed with what he designed when he undertook them: which was glory to thee, O God on high, peace in thy church, and good will to mankind. Amen, Amen.

APPENDIX

TO THE

LIFE OF RICHARD HOOKER.

AND now having by a long and laborious search satisfied myself, and, I hope, my reader, by imparting to him the true relation of Mr. Hooker's life; I am desirous also to acquaint him with some observations that relate to it, and which could not properly fall to be spoken till after his death, of which my reader may expect a brief and true account in the following Appendix.

And first, it is not to be doubted but that he died in the forty-seventh, if not in the forty-sixth year of his age; which I mention, because many have believed him to be more aged; but I have so examined it, as to be confident I mistake not; and for the year of his death, Mr. Camden, who in his "Annals of Queen Elizabeth," 1599, mentions him with a high commendation of his life and learning, declares him to die in the year 1599; and yet in that inscription of his monument, set up at the charge of Sir William Coop