ond Lesson in the Evening Prayer. His sermons were neither long nor earnest, but uttered with a grave zeal, and an humble voice: his eyes always fixed on one place, to prevent imagination from wandering; insomuch that he seemned to study as he spake. The design of his Sermons—as indeed of all his discourses-was to shew 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 labouring by hard words, and then by heedless distinctions and subdistinctions, 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 a natural from an artificial beauty.”

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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 a pious Clergy, but especially 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 up for many hours; and did the like most Fridays and other days of fasting.

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 kindness and

love; because "Love thinks not evil, but covers a multitude of infirmities."

He was diligent to enquire who of his Parish were sick, or any ways distressed, and would often visit them, unsent for; supposing that the fittest time to discover to them those errors, to which health and prosperity had blinded them. And having by pious reasons and prayers moulded them into holy resolutions for the time to come, he would incline them to confession and bewailing their sins, with purpose to forsake them, and then to receive the Communion, both as a strengthening of those holy resolutions, and as a seal betwixt God and them of his mercies to their souls, in case that present sickness did put a period to their lives.

And as he was thus watchful and charitable to the sick, so he was as diligent to prevent law-suits; still urging his parishioners and neighbours to bear with each other's infirmities, and live in love, because, as St. John says, "He that lives in love, lives in God; for God is love." And to maintain this holy fire of love constantly burning on the altar of a pure heart, his advice was to watch and pray, and always keep themselves fit to receive the Communion, and then to receive it often; for it was both a confirming and strengthening of their graces. This was his advice; and at his entrance or departure out of any house, he would usually speak to the whole family, and bless them by name; insomuch, that as he seemed in his youth to be taught of God, so he seemed in this place to teach his precepts as Enoch did, by walking with him in all holiness and humility, making each day a step towards a blessed eternity. And though, in this weak and declining age of the world, such examples are become barren, and almost incredible; yet let his memory be blessed with this true recordation, because he that praises Richard Hooker, praises God who hath given such gifts to men; and let this humble and affectionate relation of him become such a pattern, as may invite posterity to imitate these his virtues.

This was his constant behaviour both at Bourne, and in all the places in which he lived; thus did he walk with God, and tread the footsteps of primitive piety; and yet, as that great example of meekness and purity, even our blessed Jesus, was not free from false accusations, no more was this disciple of his, this most hum

ble, most innocent, holy man. His was a slander parallel to that of chaste Susannah's by the wicked Elders; or that against St. Athanasius, as it is recorded in his life,-for this holy man had heretical enemies,—a slander which this age call trepanning.* The particulars need not a repetition; and that it was false, needs no other testimony than the public punishment of his accusers, and their open confession of his innocency. It was said that the accusation was contrived by a dissenting brother, one that endured not Church-ceremonies, hating him for his book's sake, which he was not able to answer; and his name hath been told me; but I have not so much confidence in the relation, as to make my pen fix a scandal on him to posterity; I shall rather leave it doubtful till the great day of revelation. But this is certain, that he lay under the great charge, and the anxiety of this accusation, and kept it secret to himself for many months; and being a helpless man, had lain longer under this heavy burthen, but that the Protector of the innocent gave such an accidental occasion, as forced him to make it known to his two dearest friends, Edwin Sandys and George Cranmer, who were so sensible of their tutor's sufferings, that they gave themselves no rest, till by their disquisitions and diligence they had found out the fraud, and brought him the welcome news, that his accusers did confess they had wronged him, and begged his pardon. To which the good man's reply was to this purpose: "The Lord forgive them; and the Lord bless you for this comfortable news. Now have I a just occasion to say with Solomon, 'Friends are born for the days of adversity;' and such you have proved to me. And to my God I say, as did the Mother of St. John Baptist, Thus hath the Lord dealt with me, in the day wherein he looked upon me, to take away my reproach among men.' And, O my God! neither my life, nor my reputation, are safe in my own keeping; but in thine, who didst take care of me when I yet hanged upon my mother's breast. Blessed are they that put their trust in thee, O Lord! for when false witnesses were risen up against me; when shame was ready to cover my face; when my nights were restless; when

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"Can there be any of friendship in snares, hooks and trepans ?" "Nothing but gins, and snares and trapans for souls."-Dr. South.

my soul thirsted for a deliverance, as the hart panteth after the rivers of water; then thou, Lord, didst hear my complaints, pity my condition, and art now become my deliverer; and as long as I live I will hold up my hands in this manner, and magnify thy mercies, who didst not give me over as a prey to mine enemies: the net is broken, and they are taken in it. Oh! blessed are they that put their trust in thee! and no prosperity shall make me forget those days of sorrow, or to perform those vows that I have made to thee in the days of my affliction; for with such sacrifices, thou, O God! art well pleased; and I will pay them."

Thus did the joy and gratitude of this good man's heart break forth; and it is observable, that as the invitation to this slander was his meek behaviour and dove-like simplicity, for which he was remarkable; so his Christian charity ought to be imitated. For though the spirit of revenge is so pleasing to mankind, that it is never conquered but by a supernatural grace, revenge being indeed so deeply rooted in human nature, that to prevent the excesses of it,—for men would not know moderation,—Almighty God allows not any degree of it to any man, but says 66 vengeance is mine:" and though this be said positively by God himself, yet this revenge is so pleasing, that man is hardly persuaded to submit the manage of it to the time, and justice, and wisdom of his

* "A certain lewd woman came to his chamber, and solicited his charity under this cogent argument, that if he should deny her, she would lay base attempts to his charge;' and by this means, at several times, she had gotten money from him; until at last Providence was pleased to concern itself for the righting wronged innocence. It so fell out, that this woman came to him when his two dear friends Mr. Sandys and Mr. Cranmer were with him: wondering to see such a person come with so much confidence, they inquired of their tutor the occasion of it, who in a little time tells them the truth of the whole abuse. Upon which they contrive a way to be present in his chamber, where they might hear the whole discourse at her next coming. An opportunity soon offered, and the lewd woman persisting in her threats of laying ill things to his charge, if she was denied what she came for, money, his two friends stepped forth from behind the curtains to her confusion and the shame of those who had employed her in so vile an action; for his slanderers were punished for this their vile attempt, who at their suffering showed a penitent behaviour, and made an open confession."-Prince's Worthies of Devon.

Creator, but would hasten to be his own executioner of it. And yet nevertheless, if any man ever did wholly decline, and leave this pleasing passion to the time and measure of God alone, it was this Richard Hooker, of whom I write for when his slanderers were to suffer, he laboured to procure their pardon; and when that was denied him, his reply was, "That however he would fast and pray that God would give them repentance, and patience to undergo their punishment." And his prayers were so far returned into his bosom, that the first was granted, if we may believe a penitent behaviour, and an open confession. And 'tis observable, that after this time he would often say to Dr. Saravia, "Oh! with what quietness did I enjoy my soul, after I was free from the fears of my slander! And how much more after a conflict and victory over my desires of revenge!"

About 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 by water betwixt London and Gravesend, from the malignity of which he was never recovered; for after that time, 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 Church the benefit of them, as completed by himself; and 'tis 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 writ. And now his guardian angel seemed to foretel him that the day