Henry in his foreign employments: but the reader may think that in this digression I have already carried him too far from Eton College, and therefore I shall lead him back as gently and as orderly as I may to that place, for a further conference concerning Sir Henry Wotton.

Sir Henry Wotton had proposed to himself, before he entered into his collegiate life, to write the life of Martin Luther, and in it the history of the Reformation, as it was carried on in Germany: for the doing of which he had many advantages by his several embassies into those parts, and his interest in the several princes of the empire; by whose means he had access to the records of all the Hans Towns, and the knowledge of many secret passages that fell not under common view; and in these he had made a happy progress, as was well known to his worthy friend, Dr. Duppa, the late reverend bishop of Salisbury. But in the midst of this design, his late majesty King Charles the First, that knew the value of Sir Henry Wotton's pen, did, by a persuasive loving violence-to which may be added a promise of 5007. a yearforce him to lay Luther aside, and betake himself to write the history of England; in which he proceeded to write some short characters of a few kings, as a foundation upon which he meant to build; but, for the present, meant to be more large in the story of Henry the Sixth, the founder of that college, in which he then enjoyed all the worldly happiness of his present being. But Sir Henry died in the midst of this undertaking, and the footsteps of his labours are not recoverable by a more than common diligence.

This is some account both of his inclination, and the employment of his time in the college, where he seemed to have his youth renewed by a continual conversation with that learned society, and a daily recourse of other friends of choicest breeding and parts; by which that great blessing of a cheerful heart was still maintained; he being always free, even to the last of his days, from that peevishness which usually attends sage.

And yet his mirth was sometimes damped by the remembrance of divers old debts, partly contracted in his foreign employments, for which his just arrears due from the king would have made satisfaction: but being still delayed with courtpromises, and finding some decays of health, he did, about two years before his death, out of a christian desire that none should be a loser by him, make his last will; concerning which a doubt still remains, namely, whether it discovered more holy wit, or conscionable policy. But there is no doubt but that his chief design was a christian endeavour that his debts might be satisfied.

And that it may remain as such a testimony, and a legacy to those that loved him, I shall here impart it to the reader, as it was found written with his own hand.

In the name of God Almighty and all-merciful, I, Henry Wotton, provost of his majesty's college by Eton, being mindful of mine own mortality, which the sin of our first parents did bring upon all flesh, do by this last will and testament thus dispose of myself, and the poor things I shall leave in this world. My soul I bequeath to the immortal God my Maker, Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, my blessed redeemer and mediator, through his all sole-sufficient satisfaction for the sins of the

whole world, and efficient for his elect; in the number of whom I am one by his mere grace, and thereof most unremoveably assured by his Holy Spirit, the true eternal Comforter. My body I bequeath to the earth, if I shall end my transitory days at or near Eton, to be buried in the chapel of the said college, as the Fellows shall dispose thereof, with whom I have lived-my God knows -in all loving affection; or if I shall die near Bocton Malherbe, in the county of Kent, then I wish to be laid in that parish church, as near as may be to the sepulchre of my good father, expecting a joyful resurrection with him in the day of Christ.

After this account of his faith, and this surrender of his soul to that God that inspired it, and this direction for the disposal of his body, he proceeded to appoint that his executors should lay over his grave a marble stone, plain, and not costly: and considering that time moulders even marble to dust,-for-monuments themselves must die; therefore did he-waving the common way-think fit rather to preserve his name-to which the son of Sirach adviseth all men-by a useful apophthegm, than by a large enumeration of his descent or merits, of both which he might justly have boasted; but he was content to forget them, and did choose only this prudout, pious sentence, to discover his disposition, and preserve his memory.

It was directed by him to be thus inscribed:

Hie jacet hujus sententiæ primus author:

DISPUTANDI PRURITUS, ECCLESIARUM SCABIES. Nomen alias quære.

Which may be Englished thus.

Here lies the first author of this sentence:

THE ITCH OF DISPUTATION WILL PROVE THE SCAB OF THE CHURCH.

Inquire his name elsewhere.

And if any shall object, as I think some have, that Sir Henry Wotton was not the first author of this sentence but that this, or a sentence like it, was long before his time; to him I answer, that Solomon says, "Nothing can be spoken, that hath not been spoken; for there is no new thing under the sun." But grant, that in his various reading he had met with this, or a like sentence, yet reason mixed with charity should persuade all readers to believe, that Sir Henry Wotton's mind was then so fixed on that part of the communion of saints which is above, that a holy lethargy did surprise his memory. For doubtless, if he had not believed himself to be the first author of what he said, he was too prudent first to own, and then expose it to the public view and censure of every critic. And questionless it will be charity in all readers to think his mind was then so fixed on heaven, that a holy zeal did transport him; and that, in this sacred ecstacy, his thoughts were then only of the church triumphant, into which he daily expected his admission; and that Almighty God was then pleased to make him a prophet, to tell Juven. Sat. x. 146.

the church militant, and particularly that part of it in this nation, where the weeds of controversy grow to be daily both more numerous and more destructive to humble piety; and where men have consciences that boggle at ceremonies, and yet scruple not to speak and act such sins as the ancient humble Christians believed to be a sin to think; and where, our reverend Hooker says, "former simplicity, and softness of spirit, is not now to be found, because Zeal hath drowned Charity, and Skill Meekness." It will be good to think, that these sad changes have proved this epitaph to be a useful caution unto us of this nation; and the sad effects thereof in Germany have proved it to be a mournful truth.

This by way of observation concerning his epitaph; the rest of his will follows in his own words.

"Further, I the said Henry Wotton, do constitute and ordain to be joint executors of this my last will and testament, my two grand-nephews, Albert Morton, second son to Sir Robert Morton, knight, late deceased, and Thomas Bargrave, eldest son to Dr. Bargrave, Dean of Canterbury, husband to my right virtuous and only niece. And I do pray the foresaid Dr. Bargrave, and Mr. Nicholas Pey, my most faithful and chosen friends, together with Mr. John Harrison, one of the fellows of Eton College, best acquainted with my books, and pictures, and other utensils, to be supervisors of this my last will and testament. And I do pray the foresaid Dr. Bargrave, and Mr. Nicholas Pey, to be solicitors for such arrearages as shall appear due unto me from his majesty's exchequer at the time of my death; and to assist my forenamed executors in some reasonable and conscientious satisfaction of my creditors, and discharge of my legacies now specified; or that shall be hereafter added unto this my testament, by any codicil or schedule, or left in the hands, or in any memorial with the aforesaid Mr. John Harrison. And first, to my most dear sovereign and master, of incomparable goodness,-in whose gracious opinion I have ever had some portion, as far as the interest of a plain honest man,-I leave four pictures at large of those dukes of Venice, in whose time I was there employed, with their names written on the back side, which hang in my great ordinary dining-room, done after the life by Edoardo Fialetto: likewise a table of the Venetian College, where ambassadors had their audience, hanging over the mantle of the chimney in the said room, done by the same hand, which containeth a draught in little, well resembling the famous Duke Leonardo Donato, in a time which needed a wise and constant man. Item. The picture of a Duke of Venice, hanging over against the door, done either by Titiano, or some other principal hand, long before my time. Most humbly beseeching his majesty, that the said pieces may remain in some corner of any of his houses, for a poor memorial of his most humble vassal.

"Item. I leave his said majesty all the papers and negotiations of Sir Nich. Throgmorton, knight, during his famous employment under Queen Elizabeth, in Scotland and in France; which contain divers secrets of state, that perchance his majesty will think fit to be preserved in his paper-office, after they have been perused

and sorted by Mr. Secretary Windebank *, with whom I have heretofore, as I remember, conferred about them. They were committed to my disposal by Sir Arthur Throgmorton, his son, to whose worthy memory I cannot better discharge my faith, than by assigning them to the highest place of trust. Item. I leave to our most gracious and virtuous Queen Mary, Dioscorides, with the plants naturally coloured, and the text translated by Matthiolo, in the best language of Tuscany, whence her said majesty is lineally descended, for a poor token of my thankful devotion, for the honour she was once pleased to do my private study with her presence. I leave to the most hopeful prince, the picture of the elected and crowned queen of Bohemia, his aunt, of clear and resplendent virtues, through the clouds of her fortune. To my lord's grace of Canterbury now being, I leave my picture of divine love, rarely copied from one in the king's galleries, of my presentation to his majesty; beseeching him to receive it as a pledge of my humble reverence to his great wisdom. And to the most worthy lord bishop of London, lord high treasurer of England, in true admiration of his Christian simplicity and contempt of earthly pomp, I leave a picture of Heraclitus bewailing, and Democritus laughing at the world; most humbly beseeching the said lord archbishop his grace, and the lord bishop of London, of both whose favours I have tasted in my life-time, to intercede with our most gracious sovereign after my death, in the bowels of Jesus Christ, that out of compassionate memory of my long services,-wherein I more studied the public honour than mine own utility, some order may be taken out of my arrears due in the exchequer, for such satisfaction of my creditors, as those whom I have ordained supervisors of this my last will and testament shall present unto their lordships, without their farther trouble; hoping likewise in his majesty's most indubitable goodness, that he will keep me from all prejudice, which I may otherwise suffer by any defect of formality in the demand of my said arrears. То for a poor addition to his cabinet, I leave, as emblems of his attractive virtues and obliging nobleness, my great loadstone, and a piece of amber, of both kinds naturally united, and only differing in degree of concoction, which is thought somewhat rare. Item, a piece of crystal sexangular-as they grow all-grasping divers several things within it, which I bought among the Rhætian Alps, in the very place where it grew; recommending most humbly unto his lordship, the reputation of my poor name in the point of my debts, as I have done to the forenamed spiritual lords, and am heartily sorry that I have no better token of my humble thankfulness to his honoured person. Item. I leave to Sir Francis Windebank, one of his majesty's principal secretaries of state,-whom I found my great friend in point of necessity,-the Four Seasons of old Bassano, to hang near the eye in his parlour, being in little form, which I bought at Venice, where I first entered into his most worthy acquaint

ance.

* Son of Sir John Windebank, of Haines Hill in Berkshire. He was knighted and made secretary of state in 1632, but in 1646, being accused of protecting Romish priests and recusants, he was obliged to fly to Paris, where he died in exile.

"To the above-named Dr. Bargrave, dean of Canterbury, I leave all my Italian books not disposed in this will. I leave to him likewise my viol de gamba, which hath been twice with me in Italy, in which country I first contracted with him an unremoveable affection. To my other supervisor, Mr. Nicholas Pey, I leave my chest, or cabinet of instruments and engines of all kinds of uses in the lower box whereof, are some fit to be bequeathed to none but so entire an honest man as he is. I leave him likewise forty pounds for his pains in the solicitation of my arrears; and am sorry that my ragged estate can reach no farther to one that hath taken such care for me in the same kind, during all my foreign employments. To the library at Eton College, I leave all my manuscripts not before disposed, and to each of the fellows a plain ring of gold, enamelled black, all save the verge, with this motto within, Amor unit omnia.

"This is my last will and testament, save what shall be added by a schedule thereunto annexed, written on the first of October, in the present year of our redemption 1637, and subscribed by myself, with the testimony of these witnesses.

And now, because the mind of man is best satisfied by the knowledge of events, I think fit to declare, that every one that was named in his will did gladly receive their legacies: by which, and his most just and passionate desires for the payment of his debts, they joined in assisting the overseers of his will; and by their joint endeavours to the king,-than whom none was more willing-conscionable satisfaction was given for his just debts.

The next thing wherewith I shall acquaint the reader is, that he went usually once a year, if not oftener, to the beloved Bocton Hall, where, he would say, he found a cure for all cares, by the cheerful company, which he called the living furniture of that place: and a restoration of his strength, by the connaturalness of that which he called his genial air.

He yearly went also to Oxford. But the summer before his death he changed that for a journey to Winchester College, to which school he was first removed from Bocton. And as he returned from Winchester towards Eton College, said to a friend, his companion in that journey, how useful was that advice of a holy monk, who persuaded his friend to perform his customary devotions in a constant place, because in that place we usually meet with those very thoughts which possessed us at our last being there! And I find it thus far experimentally true, that at my now being in that school, and seeing that very place where I sat when I was a boy, occasioned me to remember those very thoughts of my youth which then possessed me: sweet thoughts indeed, that promised my growing years numerous pleasures, without mixtures of cares; and those to be enjoyed when time-which I therefore thought slow-paced-had changed my youth into manhood. But age and

* In it were Italian locks, picklocks, screws to force open doors, and many things of worth and rarity, that he had gathered in his foreign travel.

experience have taught me that those were but empty hopes; for I have always found it true, as my Saviour did foretell, "sufficient for the day is the evil thereof." Nevertheless, I saw there a succession of boys using the same recreations, and, questionless, possessed with the same thoughts that then possessed me. Thus one generation succeeds another, both in their lives, recreations, hopes, fears, and death.

After his return from Winchester to Eton, which was about five months before his death, he became much more retired and contemplative: in which time he was often visited by Mr. John Hales+,-learned Mr. John Hales,--then a fellow of that College, to whom upon an occasion he spake to this purpose: "I have, in my passage to my grave, met with most of those joys of which a discoursive soul is capable; and been entertained with more inferior pleasures than the sons of men are usually made partakers of: nevertheless, in this voyage I have not always floated on the calm sea of content; but have often met with cross winds and storms, and with many troubles of mind and temptations to evil. And yet, though I have been, and am a man compassed about with human frailties, Almighty God hath by his grace prevented me from making shipwreck of faith and a good conscience, the thought of which is now the joy of my heart, and I most humbly praise him for it : and I humbly acknowledge that it was not myself, but he that hath kept me to this great age, and let him take the glory of his great mercy.-And, my dear friend, I now see that I draw near my harbour of death; that harbour that will secure me from all the future storms and waves of this

restless world; and I praise God I am willing to leave it, and expect a better; that world wherein dwelleth righteousness; and I long for it!"

These and the like expressions were then uttered by him at the beginning of a feverish distemper, at which time he was also troubled with an asthma, or short spitting: but after less than twenty fits, by the help of familiar physic and a spare diet, this fever abated, yet so as to leave him much weaker than it found him; and his asthma seemed also to be overcome in a good degree by his forbearing tobacco, which, as many thoughtful men do, he also had taken somewhat immoderately. This was his then present condition, and thus he continued till about the end of October, 1639, which was about a month before his death, at which time he again fell into a fever, which though he seemed to recover, yet these still left him so weak, that they, and those other common infirmities that accompany age, were wont to visit him like civil friends, and after some short time to leave him,-came now both oftener and with more violence, and at last took up their constant habitation with him, still weakening his body and abating his cheerfulness; of both which he grew more sensible, and did the oftener retire into his study, and there made many papers that had passed his pen, both in the days of his youth and in the busy part of his life, useless, by a fire made there to that purpose. These, and several unusual expressions to his servants and friends, seemed to foretell that the day of his death drew near; for which he seemed to those many friends that observed him, to be well prepared, and to

See page 40.

be both patient and free from all fear, as several of his letters writ on this his last sick-bed may testify. And thus he continued till about the beginning of December following, at which time he was seized more violently with a quotidian fever; in the tenth fit of which fever, his better part, that part of Sir Henry Wotton which could not die, put off mortality with as much content and cheerfulness as human frailty is capable of, being then in great tranquillity of mind, and in perfect peace with God and man.

And thus the circle of Sir Henry Wotton's life -that circle which began at Bocton, and in the circumference thereof did first touch at Winchester School, then at Oxford, and after upon so many remarkable parts and passages in Christendomthat circle of his life was by death thus closed up and completed, in the seventy and second year of his age, at Eton College; where, according to his will, he now lies buried, with his motto on a plain gravestone over him: dying worthy of his name and family, worthy of the love and favour of so many princes, and persons of eminent wisdom and learning, worthy of the trust committed unto him, for the service of his prince and country.

And all readers are requested to believe, that he was worthy of a more worthy pen, to have preserved his memory, and commended his merits to the imitation of posterity.

Iz. WA.

AN

ELEGY ON SIR HENRY WOTTON,

WRIT BY

MR. ABRAHAM COWLEY.

What shall we say, since silent now is he,
Who when he spoke all things would silent be?
Who had so many languages in store,
That only Fame shall speak of him in more.
Whom England now no more return'd, must sce;
He's gone to Heaven, on his fourth embassy.
On earth he travell'd often, not to say,
He'd been abroad to pass loose time away;
For in whatever land he chanced to come,
He read the men and manners, bringing home
Their wisdom, learning, and their piety,
As if he went to conquer, not to see.
So well he understood the most and best
Of tongues that Babel sent into the west;
Spoke them so truly, that he had, you'd swear,
Not only lived, but been born everywhere.
Justly each nation's speech to him was known,
Who for the world was made, not us alone;
Nor ought the language of that man be less,
Who in his breast had all things to express.
We say that learning's endless, and blame Fate
For not allowing life a longer date,

He did the utmost bounds of knowledge find,
And found them not so large as was his mind;
But, like the brave Pellean youth, did moan,
Because that art had no more worlds than one.
And when he saw that he through all had past,
He died-lest he should idle grow at last.

A. COWLEY,

TO THE READER.

I THINK it necessary to inform my reader, that Dr. Gauden (the late Bishop of Worcester) hath also lately wrote and published the life of Mr. Hooker. And though this be not writ by design to oppose what he hath truly written; yet I am put upon a necessity to say, that in it there be many material mistakes, and more omissions. I conceive some of his mistakes did proceed from a belief in Mr. Thomas Fuller, who had too hastily published what he hath since most ingenuously retracted. And for the bishop's omissions, I suppose his more weighty business and want of time made him pass over many things without that due examination, which my better leisure, my diligence, and my accidental advantages, have made known unto me.

And now for myself, I can say, I hope, or rather know, there are no material mistakes in what I here present to you that shall become my reader. Little things that I have received by tradition (to which there may be too much and too little faith given) I will not at this distance of time undertake to justify; for, though I have used great diligence, and compared relations and circumstances, and

probable results and expressions; yet I shall not impose my belief upon my reader; I shall rather leave him at liberty but, if there shall appear any material omission, I desire every lover of truth and the memory of Mr. Hooker, that it may be made known unto me. And to incline him to it, I here promise to acknowledge and rectify any such mistake in a second impression, which the printer says he hopes for; and by this means my weak but faithful endeavours may become a better monument, and in some degree more worthy the memory of this venerable man.

I confess, that when I consider the great learning and virtue of Mr. Hooker, and what satisfaction and advantages many eminent scholars and admirers of him have had by his labours; I do not a little wonder that in sixty years no man did undertake to tell posterity of the excellences of his life and learning, and the accidents of both; and sometimes wonder more at myself, that I have been persuaded to it; and indeed I do not easily pronounce my own pardon, nor expect that my reader shall, unless my introduction shall prove my apology, to which I refer him.

INTRODUCTION.

I HAVE been persuaded, by a friend whom I reverence, and ought to obey, to write the Life of RICHARD HOOKER; the happy author of five-if not more of the eight learned books of The Laws of Ecclesiastical Polity. And though I have undertaken it, yet it hath been with some unwillingness: because I foresee that it must prove to me, and especially at this time of my age, a work of much labour, to inquire, consider, research, and determine what is needful to be known concerning him. For Iknew him not in his life, and must therefore not only look back to his death,-now sixty-four years past--but almost ifty years beyond that, even to his childhood and youth; and gather thence such observations and prognostics, as may at least adorn, if not prove necessary for the completing of what I have undertaken.

This trouble I foresee, and foresee also that it is impossible to escape censures; against which I will not hope my well-meaning and diligence can protect me, for I consider the age in which I live-and shall therefore but entreat of my reader a suspension of his censures, till I have made known unto him some reasons, which I myself Would now gladly believe do make me in some measure fit for this undertaking: and if these reasons shall not acquit me from all censures, they may at least abate of their

severity, and this is all I can probably hope for. My reasons follow.

About forty years past-for I am now past the seventy of my age-I began a happy affinity with William Cranmer,-now with God,-grand-nephew unto the great archbishop of that name; a family of noted prudence and resolution; with him and two of his sisters I had an entire and free friendship; one of them was the wife of Dr. Spencer*, a bosom friend and sometime com-pupil with Mr. Hooker in Corpus Christi College in Oxford, and after president of the same. I name them here, for that I shall have occasion to mention them in the followingļ discourse; as also George Cranmer, their brother, of whose useful abilities my reader may have a more authentic testimony than my pen can purchase for him, by that of our learned Camden and others.

This William Cranmer and his two fore-named sisters had some affinity, and a most familiar friendship, with Mr. Hooker, and had had some part of their education with him in his house, when he was parson of Bishops'

* A noted preacher, and chaplain to James I. He published Hooker's five books of Ecclesiastical Polity, with an excellent preface, about four years after Hooke s death. He died on the 3rd of April 1614, and was buried at Oxford.