A briefe view of the state of the Church of England as it stood in Q. Elizabeths and King James his reigne, to the yeere 1608 being a character and history of the bishops of those times ... / written ... by Sir John Harington ..., Knight.

And first of Mr. PARKER.

WHen I consider with my selfe the hard beginning, though more prosperous successe of the reformed Church of England, me thinks it may be compa∣red to a foughten battell; in which some Captaines and Souldiers, that gave the first charge, either died in the field, or came bleeding home; but such as fol∣lowed, putting their enemies to flight, remained quiet and victorious. Or I may more fitly (without offence) liken that to the successe of them of the Primitive Church, wherein the Apostles and their immediatc Successors were one while honoured and magnified, by their fol∣lowers

the Christians; As St. Peter, at whose feet the believers layd down all their goods; and St. Paul, who was re∣ceived as an Angel of God; another while tormented, and persecuted, by Jews and Heathen; as the same Apostles, whip∣ped by Jewes; hanged and headed by the Romans; sometimes (I say) a Centurion, a Lieutenant•• a Proconsull favouring them; straight a Priest, a Scribe, and a Lawyer promooting against them. A few of Caesars houshold wishing well unto them, and believing them. But the Caesars themselves for 300 yeeres (except a very few) detesting and suppressing them. For in such sort Cranmer, Ridley, La∣timer, Hooper, Rogers, Coverdale, and many others enduring great conflicts in those variable times of King Henry the Eighth, King Edward, and Queen Mary, suffering by fire, by imprisonment, banish∣ment, losse and deprivation, with many fights, many flights and many frights for their conscience sake; those that died had the glory of valiant Souldiers, and worthy Martyrs; such as survived, have since in a long and happy peace, enjoyed the comfort of their victory, and are like still to hold the same, if some muti∣nous

souldiers of their own camp, doe not by disturbing the peace at home, give heart to the enemy abroad. Among the surveyors of these first Leaders, that past so many pikes, the first in time, and the highest in place, was Doctor Matthew Parker, (who, as by this Author is noted) having lost all his Livings for his marri∣age, now being made Archbishop of Can∣terbury, dissembled not his marriage, as Cranmer in King Henry the eighths time, was found to doe; which, because some have taken occasion to note with too black inke, to exclude him from the re∣putation of a rubricated Martyr; and have cited the testimony of his sonnes widdow yet living, that she was carried in a trunk, and by misfortune almost stifled, by being set by an ignorant Porter with her head downward; which tale goes very current among the Papists. I can truly affirme, that this is a meere fiction, for I have exa∣mined the Gentlewoman her selfe (being of kin to my wife, and a Rogers by name) and she hath sworn to me, she never re∣ported, nor ever her selfheard, of any such misfortune.

But now though this Arch-Bishop (Parker) dissembled not his Marriage,

yet Queen Elizabeth would not dissem∣ble her dislike of it. For whereas it pleased her often, to come to his house, in respect of her favour to him (that had been her Mothers Chaplain) being once above the rest greatly feasted; at her parting from thence, the Arch-bishop and his Wife being together, she gave him very speciall thanks, with gratious and honourable termes, and then looking on his Wife, and you (saith she) Madam, I may not call you, and Mrs. I am ashamed to call, you so as I know not what to call you, but yet I do thank you.

It is true, she misliked Marriage in Bi∣shops, and was not very forward to al∣low that, in some of the Layety; for I knew one of good place about her, that had contracted himself to a rich Wid∣dow, and yet would not adventure to marry her, till he had gotten the Queen to write, for that, which he had obtained before, to the intent, that the Queen re∣puting that as her benefit, might not dis∣like with her own act. But for Clergy men, caeteris paribus, and sometime impa∣ribus too, she prefer'd the single man, be∣fore the married.

Of Arch-bishop Edmond Grindal.

Of Mr. Edmond Grindal, whereas my Authour writes he was blind, I have heard by some (that knew somewhat in those dayes) that he kept his house upon a strange occasion, the secret whereof is known to few, and the certainty is not easie to find out, but thus I was told; that

There was an Italian Doctor (as I take that of Physick) that having a known Wife a Lyar, yet bearing himself on the countenance of some great Lord, did marry another Gentlewoman, (which to do now, is by most godly Laws since made fellony.) This good Arch-bishop, not winking at so publick a scandall, con∣vented him for that, and proceeded by Ecclesiasticall censures against him; Let∣ters were presently written from this great Lord, to the Arch-bishop, to stop the proceeding, to tolerate, to dispense, or to mitigate the censure; but the Bishop remained still unmoved and un∣moveable: when no subjects intreaty could be found to prevail, they intreat the Soveraign to write in the Doctors

behalf; but this John Baptist not only per∣sisted in his Non licet habere eam, but also in a reverent fashion, required an account of her Majesties faith, in that she would seem to write in a matter that (if sh. were truly informed) was expresly against the word of God. The Queen in a gracious disposition, was purposed to have yield∣ed an account in writing; but the great Lord not onely disswaded her from that, as too great an indignity; but incensed her exceedingly against him; whereup∣on, he was privately commanded to keep his house; where because he was some∣time troubled with sore eyes, his friends gave out he was blind. But if he were blind, that was like to the soothsayer Tiresias that foresaw and told Pentheus ru∣ine as Qvid writes.

Et veniet, nec enim dignabere numen honore, Me{que} sub his tenebris nimium vidisse quereris.

For that Lord, that so persecuted this Prelate about his Physitians two wives dying twenty years since, left two Wives behind him, that can hardly be yet a∣greed which was his lawfull Wife,

and so much for Arch-Bishop Grindall.

Doctor Whiteguift.

Upon the decease of Arch-bishop Grindall, the State desirous, to have a learned and discreet person, in so emi∣nent a place; and the Queen resolved to admit none, but a single man; choyce was made of Doctor Whiteguist, then Bi∣shop of Worcester, a man in many respects very happy, and in the best Judgements very worthy. He was noted for a man of great learning in Cambridge, and he was grown to his full ripeness of reading and judgement; even then, when those that they called Puritans (and some meerely define to be Protestants scar'd out of their wits) did begin by the plot of some great ones, but by the Pen of Mr. Cartwright, to defend their new discipline.

Their indeavour as was pretended was to reduce all, in show, atleast to the Pu∣rity, but indeed to the poverty, of the primitive Churches.

These Books of Mr. Cartwright not unlearnedly written, were more learned∣ly answered by Doctor Whiteguift. Both had their reward. For Mr. Cartwright, was by private favour placed about Co∣ventry,

where he grew rich, and had great maintenance to live on, and honoured as a Patriarck, by many of that Profession. Doctor Whiteguift, was made Bishop of Worcester, and there having a great good report of Houskeeping, and governing the Marches of Walles, he was (as my Au∣thour hath told, called unto Canterbury. While he was Bishop of Worcester, though the revenew of that be not very great, yet his custom was to come to the Parlia∣ment very well attended, which was a fashion the Queen liked exceeding well. It hapned one day Bishop Elmer of London, meeting this Bishop with such an orderly Troop of Tawny Coats, and demanding of him, how he could keep so many men, he answered, it was by reason, he kept so few women.

Being made Arch-bishop of Canterbu∣ry, and of the privy Councel, he carried himself in that mild, and charitable course, that he was not onely approved greatly, by all the Clergy of England, but even by some of those, whom with his pen he might seem to have wounded; I mean these called Puritans, of whom he won divers by sweet perswasions to con∣formity. In the Star-chamber, he used

to deliver his sentence in a good fashion, ever leaning to the milder censure as best became his Calling. He was a great stay in Court and Councel, to all oppressions of the Church, though that current was some time so violent, as one mans force could not stop that.

He founded an Hospitall in or nigh Croyden, and placed poor men therein, in his own life time, and being grown to a full age, that he might say with St. Paul. Bonum certamen certavi, cursum confeci, &c. he was so happy, as to give to his Soveraign and preferrer, the last spirituall comfort she took in this World (I hope to her eternall comfort) and af∣ter that, he not onely joyned with the other Lords, for the proclaiming of King James, but on St. James his day follow∣ing, did set the Crown on his head, and anointed him with Oyl, and so having first seen the Church setled under a religi∣ous King, and the Crown established in a hopefull succession, he fell into a Palsey, to which he had been formerly subject, and with no long or painful sickness, he yielded to nature, deserving well this Epitaph, written by a young Scholar of Oxford, who was with me at the writing hereof.

Candida dona tibi Whyt••gifte, sunt nomen, & omen, Candidior a tuis 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 dedit. Nomen habes 〈◊〉〈◊〉 inscriptum nunc ergo lapi••••o, Et sto•••• pro meritis redditur alba 〈◊〉〈◊〉.

Doctor Richard Bancroft.

Upon the death of Arch-bishop White∣guift, divers worthy men were named in the vacancy. His Majesty not after the manner of some Princes, seeking to keep that vacant, but rather hastning to fill that. The Bishops of Durham and Win∣chester were as it were, voce populi made competitrs with the Bishop of London, rather by their eminence of merit and Learning, then by any known desire, or endeavour of them or their friends. Wherein methinks by the way, envy it self cannot but gratulate the Church of England, that is so furnished with learned Bishops, as if choyce had been to be made, not by a judicious Prince, but by the for∣tune of a lot among those three, and ma∣ny more beside, that could not have fallen amiss. But his Majesty had long since un∣derstood of his writing, against the

Genevising, and Scotizing Ministers: and though some imagined he had therein given the King some distaste, yet finding him, in the disputations at Hampton Court, both learned and stout, he did more and more increase his liking to him; So that although in the common rumour, Thoby Matthew then Bishop of Durham was likest to have carried that, so - learned a man, and so assiduous a Preacher, qui in concionibus dominatur as his emulous and enemy wrote of him, yet his Majesty in his learning knowing, and in his wisdom, weighing that this same strict charge Pasce oves mes feed my sheep, requires as well a pastorall courage of driving in the stray sheep, and driving out the infectious, as of feeding the sound, made especiall choyce of the Bi∣shop of London, as a man more exercised in affaires of the State. I will add also my own conjecture out of some of his Maje∣sties own speeches, that in respect he was a single man, he supposed him the fitter, according to Queen Elizabeths prin∣ciples of state: upon whose wise foun∣dations, his Majesty doth daily erect more glorions buildings.

But I lose labour to repeat these things

to your Highnesse better known, then to my selfe. I should onely speak of the for∣mer times.

Of his beginning therefore, and rising, I will boldly say that, which I would I might as truly of all that follow in this Treatise, viz. that he came to all his pre∣ferments very clearly, without prejudice or spoile of his Churches.

He was Tutor in Cambridge, to the Lord Cromwell, who had cause to wish, and (as I have heard) hath wisht, he had staid with him longer, though he were sharp and austere. My Lord Chancellor Hatton made speciall choyce of him, to be his Examiner.

Est a liquid de tot Graiorum millibús unum a Diomede legi.

By his means Queen Elizabeth came to take knowledge of his wisdome and suf∣ficiency. He both: wrote, as I touched before, and laboured earnestly by all good means for the suppressing of the fantasti∣call Novellists. After the strange and frantick attempt of Hacket and his fel∣lows; which practice, though the bran∣ches thereof were easily cut off, yet was it thought, to have a more dangerous and secret root. But for these his travels, as

the Queen and State favoured him, so the seditious Sectaries (to use Judge Pophams word, that would not have them call'd Puritanes) they, l say, no lesse maligned-him in Libels and Rimes; (for they were void of reasons) laying the im∣putation of Papistry unto him; some of them were punished in the Starchamber, namely one Darling, the last. Starchamber day in Queen Elizabeths time, was sharp∣ly censured. And it is no wonder, if they lov'd him not, for indeed he had stoutly opposed their chiefest darlings. As for the imputation of Papistry, which they lay on all men that crosse their designes, he is so free from it, that I can truly af∣firme the greatest blow the Papists recei∣ved in all Queen Elizabeths time, came from his hand, or at least from his head: For having wisely observed the emula∣tion, ambition; and envy, that lurked in the minds of their secular Priests, and the Jesuits one against another, he found the means by the same policy, and with the like spirit, that St. Paul set the Phari∣sees against the Sadduces, to set the Priests against the Jesuits, Watson against Parsons (Impar congressus) but yet thereby he so divided their languages, as scantly they

can understand one another as yet. These things acted, before the King your fathers happy entry, I thought good to touch, though more sparingly then my particu∣lar affection & his just deserts do give me occasion. Of his late imployments of his great care, in setting; forward and setting forth all his Majesties godly procee∣dings, though I know much, yet if I should say all I know, perhaps it is lesse then your Highnesse knowes; therefore I will con∣clude with that which the truth, rather then my kindnesse enforceth me to say, that no Bishop since I can remember hath been counted more vigilant in looking to his charge. Ne quid Ecclesia detrimenti capiat.

Of the Bishops of London,

and first of Bishop ELLMER.

MY purpose in this work from the beginning, and my promise to your Highnesse, being to adde to this Author, a supply of some matters that he pur∣posely omitted writing in the latter yeers of Queen Elizabeth, and my relation be∣ing

to write plainly, without feare or fa∣vour of those I doe write, I will proceed confidently, as I have begun; in which, I perswade my selfe I have some advantage of the Author himselfe, for freedome of speech, both in the time, and many other circumstances. For he was no foole that gave that rule,

Mitissima sors••est Regnorum, sub Rege novo.

Againe, I being a Lay-man; am not so obnoxious to their apprehensions; that may be offended with that I shall say, as he was being a Churchman.

Thirdly, I lived in a place, where I might know many things without enqui∣ry; which had been scarce safe for him, in that time to enquire after.

Lastly, he writes to the world pub∣liquely, and I but privately to your High∣nesse. Therefore I will proceed quoad sciam, poteroque.

The first Bishop of London I have to write of, is Mr. John Elmer, of whom my Author hath spoken-too little, and I per∣haps shall seem to say too much; yet once I thought to have said somewhat of Bonner, because I may remember him li∣ving in the late Queens time unbishop∣ped,

and went sometimes abroad; but I was so young then, as I could judge no∣thing; and he was so hated, that every ill-favoured fat fellow that went in the street, they would say, that was Bonner. But me thinks now, by that I have heard of him, I could liken him to Dionysius the tyrant of Syracuse, who being cruell and peremptory in prosperity, was both pa∣tient and pleasant in adversity. For ex∣ample, that Tyrant being expelled his Realm, and living a poore pedant, was one day with men of mean sort drinking in a Tavern, some Diogenes espying him, came to him with reverence, opening, and shaking his upper garment (for so they used in those daies, that came into the Kings chambers, to shew they had no weapons.) Dionysius perceiving the scorn, was nothing troubled, but bad him come and drink with him, and shake his clothes at the going out, that his host might see he carried nothing with him. So Bonner having twice lost his Bishoprick, walking with his Tippet in the strete, one begg'd it of him (in scoffe) to line a coat; No (saith he) but thou shalt have a fooles head, to line thy cap. And to another, that bad him good morrow Bishop quou∣dam,

he straight replied, Farewell, Knave semper. I have been told also, that one shewed him his own picture in the Book of Martyrs, in the first edition, on pur∣pose to vexe him; at which he laught, saying, a vengeance on the foole, how could he get my picture drawn so right? and when one asked him if he were not ashamed to whip a man with a beard, he laught, & told him, his beard was grown since; but (saith he) if thou hadst been in his case, thou wouldst have thought it a good commutation of pennance, to have thy bum beaten, to save thy body from burning; but this is too much of this sloven.

I come now to Bishop Elmer, whom in my own particular I loved very well, and yet performing truly the taske I have un∣dertaken, I shall shew perhaps no great signe of it. He was ā man but mean of stature, yet in his youth very valiant, which he forgat not in his age. When he first became a preacher, following the po∣pular phrase, and fashion of the younger Divines of those times, which was to in∣veigh against the superfluities of the Churchmen, he is remembred, namely to have used these words in a Sermon, beforē

a great Auditory, Wherefore away with your Thousands, you Bishops, and come down to you: Hundreds, &c. but this was but a heat of his spirit; of which not long after, by reading and conference, he was throughly cured; in so much as being asked by one of his own ranke, after he was Bishop of London, what he meant, to preach of the brainsick fashion, he an∣swered with the words of St. Paul, Cum essem parvulus, loqu••bar ut parvulus, sapie∣bam ut parvulus.

But certain it is, no Bishop was more persecuted and taunted by the Puritans of all sorts, then he was, by libels, by scoffes, by open railing, and privy back∣biting. It is vulgar, yet a passage not unworthy remembring, that past between one Mr. Maddoxe, and him: For when the Bishop had recovered him about some matter concerning Paritanisme, and he had answered the Bishop somewhat untowardly and thwartly; the Bishop, (as he was ingenious ever) said unto him, thy very name exprefseth thy nature, for Maddox is thy name, and thou art as mad a beast as ever I talked with. The other not long to seek of an answer, by your favour, Sir, (said he) your deeds answer

your name righter then mine: for your name is Ellmar, and you have marr'd all the Elms in Fulham, by lopping them. He used for recreation to bowle in a Gar∣den; and Marton Marprelate thence takes this taunting scoff••, that the Bishop would cry, Rub, rub, rub to his bowle, and when it was gone too farre, say, The di∣vell goe with it; and then, quoth he, the Bishop would follow. Thus they rubb'd one another, till they were all gall'd sometimes; and the Bishop was so weary of the place, that he would gladly have removed to Ely, and made great suit for it, and was put in some hope of it. I have seen a Letter or two of his, to his friend, subscribed thus, Yours in love, but not in London; yet would he not take it with those hard conditions that were proposed, lest Mr. Maddox, and his like, might call him Ellmarr; so as it was no∣ted as an ill fortune of his, to have died Bishop of London, which eight before him in an hundred yeers had not done, but been either preferred, or deprived. He was diligent in preaching at his cure, where he was first beneficed; and when his Auditory grew dull, and unattentive, he would with some pretty and unex∣pected

conceit, move them to attention. Among the rest was this: He read a long Text in Hebrew, whereupon all seemed to listen what would come after such strange words, as if they had taken it for some conjuration. Then he shewed their folly, that when he spake English, whereby they might be instracted and edified, they neglected, and hearkned not to it; and now he read Hebrew, which they under∣stood no word of, they would seem so carefull and attentive. When there was talk of dangers, rumours of warres, and invasions, then he was commonly chosen to preach in the Court, and he would doe it in so chearfull a fashion, as not onely shewed he had courage, but would put courage into others. Here is much doubt, saith he, of Malum ab Aquilone, and our Coleprophets have prophecied that in exaltatione Lunae Leo jungetur Leaenae, The Astronomers tell of a watry Trigon.

But as long as Virgo is in that Ascen∣dent with us, we need not fear of nothing; Deus nobiscum, quis contra nos, and for this, the Queen would much commend him, yet would she not remove him. But though he were stout, and wise and rich,

yet had he beside his conflicts with those called Puritans, also some domesticall crosses. He had a Daughter, a modest Gentlewoman, and very well brought up, whom he gave in mariage to one Mr. A∣dam Squire, a Minister and Preacher, and learned, but a very fantasticall man, as appeared partly the first day; for as I have heard, he would needs preach at his own Mariage, upon this Text, It is not good for Adam to be alone. This Text he so pursued, after he had been some years maried, that though his Wife were away, yet Adam would not be alone. This course bread jealousie, jarrs and com∣plaints, and the Bishop as he had good cause, reprehended his Son in Law, he thinking to defend, or at least to revenge himself, by recrimination, accused her to have received a love letter from a Knight (but the Squire himself had indited that) and this was so cunningly handled by him, and with such probability, that her fault was as suspitious, as his was manifest, falshood will out at last. The Bishop that feared never a Knight, nor Lord in Eng∣land, sends for the Knight (contrary to the Squires expectation) boults out the whole matter, finds there were treache∣rous

tricks put on his Daughter, but no Meretrix, and being too wise to publish his own disgrace, and too stout to indure that; I have credibly heard (and believe that to be true) that with a good waster, he so mortified this old Adam of his Son in Law Squire, that he needed no other pennance but this, which was according to the old Canon per Disciplinam, & ver∣bera. In his Sons he was more fortunate, than many Bishops in England have been thought to have been; his eldest being a civil Gentleman, and well left, another an excellent Preacher, that hath preach∣ed oft before the King, and namely one Sermon on this Text out of the 2d of the Canticles, verse 15. Take us the Foxes, the little Foxes that destroy our Vines: for our Vine, have small Grapes: which Ser∣mon so pleased his Majesty, that besides other approbations of that, he said to me, that if Mr. Ellmer had not had his Fathers collections and notes against Puritans, he could never have made so good a Ser∣mon,

and so much of Bishop Ellmer.

Of Bishop Fletcher.

There succeeded in less then one years vacancy, as hath been already told, Mr.

Richard Fletcher, a comely and courtly Prelate, but I may say, as Tully- said, when he had commended King Dejotarus to Caesar, by the name of Rex frugi, a fru∣gall, or thrifty King, he straight addeth this parenthesis, quanquam Reges hoc verbo laudari non solent, although said he, Kings are not accustomed to be praised with this word thrifty, so I might say, that comely and courtly, are no fit Epithetons for the true praise of a Prelate. I remem∣bred before how Ely had been long va∣cant, almost 20 years, and Bristol and Ox∣enford though both new erected Bisho∣pricks (saved as it were out of the ruines and ashes of the Abbies) were thought in some danger again to be lost, for Bristoll was held in Commendam, and Oxford not much to be commended; wherefore about the year 88. that same annus mir abilis, some of the zealous Cour∣tiers, whose devotion did serve them more to prey on the Church, than pray in the Church, harkened out for fit sup∣plies to these places, and sent their A∣gents to find out some men that had great mindes, and small means or merits, that would be glad to leave a small Deanry to make a poor Bishoprick, by new leasing

out Lands, that were now almost out of Lease, but to free him from the guilt of it, the poor Bishop must have no part of the fine. There was then a Deane whom I may not name; but to give the story more life, I will name his place for names sake of Coventry, a man of great learning, but of no great living. To him was sent one of these Foxes, the little Foxes that destroy our Vines, and make small grapes with this favourable Message, that his honourable Lord, had sent him to him, to let him know, how much he respected his good gifts (in which word also, there might be some equivocation) and though that was hard in those times, to pleasure men of his worth, according to their me∣rit, yet my Lord in favour of him, hath bethought him of this course, that where∣as Salisbury was then like to be void by a Remove, if this Dean would for the pre∣sent take the Bishoprick of Oxford, which was then in a long vacation also, and make Leases, &c. ••he should the next year be removed to Salisbury: the honest Dean that in his soul detested such sacri∣ledge, made this mannerly and ingenuous answer. Sir, I beseech you commend my humble service to his honourable Lord∣ship;

but I pray you tell his Lordship, that in my Conscience, Oxford is not my right way, from Coventry to Salisbury: what became of Oxford I shall touch, and but touch hereafter, I come now to Bishop Fletcher, that made not so much scruple to take Bristol in his way, from Pe∣terborough to Worcester, though that were wide of the right way, upon the sinister or bow hand many miles; as the Card of a good Conscience, will plainly disco∣ver. I fottuned to be one day at the Sa∣voy with Mr. Secretary Walsingham, where Mr. Fletcher was then upon his dispatch for Bristoll, a familiar friend of his meeting him there, bad God give him joy, my Lord elect of Bristoll, which he taking kindly and courtly upon him, an∣swered that it had pleased indeed the higher powers, so to dispose of him; but said his friend in his eare, do you not lease out tot & tot to such and such. He He clapping his hand on his heart, in a good gracefull fashion, replied with the words of Naman the Syrian. Herein the Lord be mercifull to me, but there was not an Elizeus to bid him go in peace. What shall I say for him? Non erat hoc ho∣minis vitium sed temporis? I cannot say so,

for your Highness knowes I have written otherwise in a Book of mine I gave you Libro 3. numero 80.

Alass a fault confest were half amended, but sin is doubled, that is thus defended, I know a right wise man sayes and believes where no receivers are, would be no theeves.

Wherefore at the most I can but say Dividatur. He was a well spoken man, and one that the Queen gave good counte∣nance to, and discovered her favour to him, even in her reprehensions, as Horace saith of Mecaenas. Rerum tutela mearum, cumsis, & prave sectam stomacheris ob un∣guem; for she found fault with him once for cutting his beard too short, whereas good Lady (if she had known that) she would have found fault with him for cutting his Bishoprick so short. He could preach well and would speak boldly, and yet keep decorum. He knew what would please the Queen, and would adventure on that though that offended others. Once I remember there had been two Councellors sworn within compass of one year, and neither of them had a gray hair at that time, whereupon he

glawnc't in his Sermon at it with a sen∣tence of Seneca.

Which Mr. Daniel upon a better occa∣sion did put into English verse in this sort,

That we may truly say, these spoild the State, Young Councel, privat gain, & partiall hate.

The Queen as I said, found no fault with his liberall speech, but the friends of these Councellers taxing him for that, I have heard he had this pretty shift, to tell the friends of either of them, he meant it by the other. Being Bishop of London, and a Widower, he maried a gal∣lant Lady and a Widow, Sister to Sir George Gifford the Pensioner, which the Queen seemed to be extreamly displeas∣ed at, not for the by-gain of a Bishop (for she was free from any such supersti∣tion) but out of her generall mislike of Clergy mens Mariage: this being indeed a mariage that was talked of at least nine dayes, yet in a while he found means to pacifie her so well, as she promised to come, and I think did come to a house he had at Chelsey. For there was a stayre and a dore made of purpose for her, in a bay window, of which pleasant wits descanted diversly, some said that was

for joy, to shew he would (as the Pro∣verb is) cast the house out at window for her welcome, some more bitingly called it the Impresse or Emblem of his entry into his first Bishoprick, viz. not at the doore, but at the window. But cer∣tain it is that (the Queen being pacified, and hee in great jollity, with his faire Lady and her Carpets and Cushions in his bed-chamber) he died suddenly, taking Tobacco in his chaire, saying to his man that stood by him, whom he loved very well, Oh boy, I die; whereupon many bolts were roved after him, and some spitefully fether'd, which both for cha∣rity sake, as wel as brevity, I wil omit; but this blunt one, not knowing out of whose Quiver it first came; but fitting a gray goose wing, I wil produce as his most vulgar Epitaph:

Here lies the first Prelate made Christendom see, a Bishop, a husband unto a Ladee, The cause of his death was secret and hid, He cry'd out I die, and ev'n so he did.

He was buried in the Church, the Dean and Chapter of Pauls not being so scrupulous, as they of York were, the 9.

of Hen. 1. who because their Archbishop died suddenly, buried him without the Church-porch, notwithstanding he had been their great benefactor.

Bishop Vaughan.

Mr. Richard Vaughan is the next I have to speak of, being the last man nam'd in my Authors Book, and of him he hath but two lines, onely declaring him to have been the Bishop of Chichester.

Upon the remove of my Lord of Can∣terbury that now is•• he succeeded him in London, as is not unknown to your High∣nesse.

His beginning of preferment was under the Lord Keeper Puckering, being his exa∣miner, of such as sued for the benefices in my Lords gift; in which, though some complaine he was too precise, yet for my part I ascribe to that one of his greatest praises. For this I know, that a Preacher being a Noblemans Chaplaine, and there∣fore qualified for two Benefices, came to him ••recommended in good sort, and brought with him a Gentleman of both their acquaintance, that sometime had

been an University man, to speak for his approbation. Mr. Vaughan examined him of no very deep points, and found him but shallow, and not very ready in the Roman Tongue, his friend having been fain to help him up in two or three foule stumbles, both of language and mat∣ter; whereupon he dismist him, without all hope of the Benefice, and after told the Gentleman seriously, that if he would have it himselfe, he would allow him suf∣ficient, but the suitor by no means. He was in those daies very prompt, and ready in speech, and withall factious; he was an enemy to all supposed miracles, inso∣much as one arguing with him in the Closet at Greenwich, in defence of them, and alledging the Queens healing of the Evil for an instance, asking him what he could say against it, he answered, that he was loth to answer arguments taken from the Topick place of the Cloth of estate; but if they would urge hi•• to answer, he said his opinion was, she did it by vertue of some precious stone in possession of the Crown of England, that had such a na∣turall quality. But had Queen Elizabeth been told, that he had ascribed more ver∣tue to her Jewels (though she loved them

wel) then to her person, she would never have made him Bishop of Chester. He grew heavy and corpulent of a sudden, not so much with too much ease, as with too little exercise. Corpus quod corrum∣pitur aggravat animam, soon after his re∣move to London he fell into that drousie diseas••, of which he afte died, growing thereby unfit for the place, that requires a Vigilantius, and not a Dormitantius. He was held a milde man, and was well spo∣ken of in the City, which sometime hap∣neth not to them that deserve the best. To conclude, being taken with an Apo∣plexie, he may be properly said to have slept with his forefathers.

Doctor Ravis.

Within a few moneths there succeeded him Doctor Ravis Bishop of Gloucester, who is not formerly mentioned in this book, because Mr. Goldborow his prede∣cessor in Gloucester was then living. His preferment to Gloucester makes me re∣member a story that some record of Sci∣pio, who being made Generall of the Ro∣man Army, was to name his Questor or

Treasurer for the wars, whom he thought fit; being a place in those daies, as is now in these, of great importance, one that took himselfe to have a speciall interest in Scipios favour was an earnest suitor for it, but by the delay, mistrusting he should have a deniall, he importuned him one day for an answer. Think not unkindness in me (said Scipio) that I delay you thus, for I have been as earnest with a friend of mine to take it, and yet cannot prevaile with him: Noting hereby, that offices of charge and conscience, are fittest for such as shunne them modestly, rather then such as seek them greedily. And even so did my Lords of the Councell deale with Mr. Ravis, who being then Dean of Christ-Church, which lightly is not held, but by some choise man of the University, being a place of good valew and reputa∣tion, was requested by them to take this Bishoprick, when many that sued to have it, were put by. But as he was not willing to goe thither, so they of Glouce∣ster were more unwilling he should goe thence, he was in a short space in so good liking of all sorts, insomuch as some that can scaut well brook the name of a Bi∣shop, yet can be content to give him a good report.

For my part, I have observed a great change in Gloucester, from that it seemed nine yeers since, about the Earle of Essex going: into Ireland; for at that time nei∣ther their Bishop seemed to care for them, lying at a Prebends in Worcester, which methought was very inconvenient; nor they seemed much to care for themselves, all their buildings both publique and pri∣vate looking old and ruinous: whereas of late yeeres, their Bishop keeping his house neere them, and being daily with them, they have built them a new Market∣place, and are now building a faire Hall for justice; which commendable and com∣fortable disposition of the people, there and elsewhere, though it be principally ascribed to the joy and comfort that all wel affected persons took of his Majesties happy entrance, and peaceable govern∣ment, and of the succession established in his hopefull issue; yet is not the leaft to be imputed to the discretion and dili∣gence of the Pastors that waken and stirre up their charity, and make them more sensible of Gods good blessings bestowed on them; and the rather by this good Bi∣shops means. The Lord of Shrewsbury hath very Nobly, and like himselfe contributed

to this so great and necessary work, gi∣ving a large portion of Timber towards it.

Now, as I said, it hath pleased his Majesty to place him in London, Magi∣stratus indicabit virum. This publique place (for I count the other was almost private to this, will shew what is in the man, I need not prognosticate, but I can wish and hope, that as he is for his per∣fon comparable to Mr. Fletcher, so he may equall Doctor Ellmar in courage, Doctor Bancroft in carefulnesse, and Doctor Vaughan in his milde demeanour, to win the love of the people; and thus much be said concerning the Bishops of London.

Of the Bishops of Winchester.

HAving past Canterbury and London, both Neighbours to the Court, and as it were within the verge; I thought the greatest part of my task passed over. Howbeit Winchester I finde also will af∣ford some variety of matter; and as it hath been a place that hath had many learned men, and bred many, both Di∣vines,

Philosophers, and Poets, so I shall take occasion in speaking of some of these that ensue, to produce some Poems both Latine and English; some made at Winchester, some of Winchester, some against Winchester: not digressing herein much from the method and man∣ner of my Authour; who, as your High∣nesse may see, produceth good old riming verses of Fryers, both in praise and dis∣praise of some of the Bishops, for my purpose from the beginning, though it were chiefly to inform your Highnesse, knowledge, with a faithfull report of some things passed in Queen Elizabeths time, overpassed by my Authour; yet was it also to sauce it in such sort with some variety of matter, not impertinent, to cheer your spirit, lest a dull relation of the Acts of grave gray-beards to a young Prince might grow fastidious.

First therefore of the first Bishop Wick∣ham,

whose life my Author hath set out so amply and orderly, as I need adde no∣thing thereunto; onely, because a man that hath made so many good schollers deserves a better verse then that on his Tomb.

Willelmus dictus Wickhā jacet hic nece victu•• Jugiter oretis, tumulum quicunque videtis.

And such like stuffe, which a Winchester scholler now would be scourged, if he make no better. I having this pretty Poem of his whole life, made by Doctor John∣son, thought I could never doe it or him more honour, then to present it to your Princely view, for as Sir Philip Sidney curseth all despisers of Poetry, with this Poeticall Anathema: First, that they may be in love, and lose their love for lack of a Sonnet; next, that when they die, their memory may die for want of an Epitaph: so, I would wish such as wrong good Poets, no worse punishment, then to have some vile Verse written of him, whose reading (as Martial saith) might make a mans Physick work the better with him; such as for the most part those lazie Friers were were wont to write; for my part, though Wickhams Epitaph be but seven or eight lines, and this Elegie (I think) about twenty times seven lines, yet I must confesse, it were lesse tedious to me at this present to read the seven score, then the seven; and hoping it may seem so to you, I have here annexed them.

Ortus & vita Gulielmi de Wickham olim Episcopi Wintoniensis, & condito∣ris istius Collegii.

Qua capit australes comitatu Hamptona Bri∣tannos Wickhamia est vicus nec nisi parvus ager; Vixit Johannes illic cognomine longus Cui fuit in Casti, parte Sibilla tori Hanc habuit patriam Gulielmus & hosce paren∣tes Wickhamus augurio, nec tamen absque bon••. Nam{que} loci ut nomen, sic vim matris{que} patris{que} Haud dubie in vitam transtulit ille suam. Longus enim ut longo duraret tempor a caute Ut bene prospiceret cuncta Sibilla dedit Ergo sub Edvardo natus regnante secundv Tunc ubiter sceptri, sexta cucurrit Hyems Vinginti primos studiis & moribus annos Wickhamiae patris cura ea summa dedit. Nec tamen hic omnes, nam partē temporis hujus Venta & Edingdoni praesulis aula tulit: Potinus Edwardi translatus tertius in aulam Non fieri nullo caepit & esse loco. Namque bis octo annis recte & feliciter actis Rem fidei plenam consiliique subit; Winde••ora a suit pagus celeberrimus illic Rex statuit castri maenia magna sui: Wick••amus huic operi praeponitur at{que} probatū est Ingenio quantum polluit arte fide

Ergo fit Edvardo charus custo sque Sigilli Non ita post multos incipit esse dies. Nec tamen optati meta haec fuit ultima honoris Crevit adhuc regi charior usque suo: Usque adeo ut sexto sit factus Episcopus anno Jussus ventana pascere in urbe gregem Hic mihi vaniloqui minuenda est fabula vulgi Fabula de tanto non bene ficta viro Nam{que} nec Estmeonam petiit fallaciter unquam, Sed tulit auratum rege sciente pedum Nec fuit indoctus doctos facturus ut illum Fama refert Regi verba dedisse suo. Consule quae in tanti gessit molimine regni Prudentem dices palla diumque virum. Consule quae in sacri scribuntur calce statuti An faceret doctos addubit asse scies: Adde quod Chistorici si pagina vera Frosarti) Rex Intercessor Praesul ut esset erat. Missa igitur vulgi facimus verba prophani Quaer at & exactam nostra Thalia fidem: Wickhamus ad summos evectus praesul honores Edwardo inque dies charior inque dies Jam patriae Lumen, jam Cancellarius idem Summus er at Regi presidiumque suo; Cum subito (sic magna ruunt summis{que} negatum est Stare diu) ex tanto decidit ille gradu: Namque per invidiam regi dilatus ab illo Pellitur e patria missus ut exul humo. Hoc factum est potius regem stimulante sonatu

Quam quod erat culpae conscius ille malae An tamen exiret regno non convenit & sunt Qui paenae summum displicuisse putant. Interea moritur Rex hic Edvardus & ejus Opportuna Nepos sceptra Richardus habet: Hic jubet exilio revocetur praesul ab isto Utque locumrursus quem tulit ante fer at; Quin etiam census cereales reddit ad annos Tres minus exilii quod puto tempus er at. His opibus dives, mentemque per omnia versans Non male quo servet tam bene parta modo; Sed quid agat virtute sua quid praesule dignum Quidve Deo tantas cui reserebat opes Post a lia Oxonii (quod longum duret in aevum Possit & a memori posteritate coli, Constituit pulchros studiis Phoeboque penates Atque sacram Musis aedific are domum. Septima crevit Hiems post fundamenta locata Ingreditur Custos & sua turba larem; Turba at{que} his pue••is famulis{que} decem{que} ministri Otia discentum qui bene semt er alant. Magna quidem sunt haec tamen haec tam magna Lector adhuc tanto non potuere viro Nam{que} opere exacto hoc vix proxima fluxerat placere Cum parat alterius tecta locare domus Quae prope Ventanae bene caepta Palatia sedis aestas Crevit & in sexto vere parata stetit; Ergo illic totidem studiosos esse jubebat Queis & rectores pedonomosque dedit.

Qui simulac primos complerint fortiter annos Musarum in studiis rhetoricisque tropis, Altius inque novas diducta colonia terras Oxonium semper lecta juventus eat: Haec duo Pieriis collegia condita mistis Sunt in tutela diva Maria tua; Id••irco nova dicta puto quod nulla vetustas Nulla dies morsus tentat in illa suos Hic potuit credi finem fecisse struendi Wickhamus & sumptus jam tenuisse suos. Non tenuit divi nam quicquid in aede Swithini Nolari occiduam spectat ab arce plagam; Concio qua festis celebratur sacra diebus Quaque suo in tumulo conditus ipse jacet. Totum hoc tam vastam molem tantas{que} columnas Impensis struxit restituitque suis; Regis opes dicet propius qui spectat & idem Vix regum tantas esse putabit opes. Forsitan & Gallis (nam sic & fama Monastis Quos rex a regno jussit abire suo. Reddidit aequali praetio quaecunque recepit Parisiiis fundos Parisiisque lares. Non tamen hoc sumptu minor esse domestica caepit Cura, sed & famulos pavit ut ante suos. Pavit, & ipsius testatur script a sepulchro Littera gustavit dives, inopsque cibum Huic it a viventi cum jam longaeva senectus Corporis effaeti debilitasset onus, Grata quies venit vitae non discolor actae,

Ultima curarum linea grata quies. Annus erat vitae decies octavus & illis Henrici quarti sceptra diebus erant; J am testamentum quaeris si fecerit ullum, Fecit; si fuer at quod daret ille? fuit. Quod suerit factis reliquū tot sumptibus? ohe Inveniet nullum pagina nostra fidem. Et tamen hoc dicam regales vincere gazas Quae dedit in scriptis ultima dona suis Extat opus Craesum{que} putes scripsisse vel illum Cujus facta haeres Roma superba fuit: Vel cujus digitis mutatum fertur in aurum Quicquid in aurifluas contigit ire manus; Nec tamē ignavos bona tanta reliquit in usus Successusque bonus propositum gresuit.

Namque diocesin ditavit templa per omnem Multaque cognatis, pauperibusque ded it: Multa quo{que} & regi non fidis pauca ministris Sed neque gimnasiis muner a pauca suis. Haec sunt ergo viri monument a perennia tanti Cujus dum vixit gloria tanta fuit. Nec dubito qui sic vixit sic mortuus idem est, Quin sit apud superos nobilis umbra deos. Est etenim nam si caelestis clauditur aula Tot meritis, nobis illa patere queat? Hactenus ire libet de Magni laudibus, Hosce Suscipe conatus, Lector Amice meos.

And hereby your Highnesse may ob∣serve how vaine that foolish tradition is which my Author discreetly omitted, as not beleeving that some will still main∣taine that Wickham was unlearned, and onely a Surveyer of buildings, and by a kinde of fraud deceived King Edward 3. (no likely Prince to be so deceived) beg∣ing the Parsonage of Eastmeane, to which by like Authority they will have the Bishoprick of Winchester annexed as un∣separably as the Earledome of Arundell to Arundell-Castle, for who could think that such a King as Edw. 3. would make Sir John Laclattin, first his Secretary, then Privie-Seale, then Master of the Wards, and Treasurer of France, and lastly Pre∣late of the Garter, and Chancellor of England,

and so much of the first Wick∣ham.

Of Stephen Gardiner.

Because I will not be alwayes be pray∣sing, but sometimes when just cause is given, reprehend mens demerits, as well magnifie their merits, I will take occasion to speake somewhat of Stephen Gardiner, twice bishop of Winchester; and therefore may challenge to be twice remembred,

though for some things of him that were to be wisht they were ever forgotten, my Author derects this Reader to Mr. Foxes booke of Martyrs, for a more full Rela∣tion of his doings; but that is so full (though I assure my selfe it is very faith∣full) that I doubt your Highnesse will find it over tedious to read; my purpose is therefore but to note some important ob∣servations out of this Story, and after, as I did of Wickham in Latin, so to adde some English poetrie written of him, and to him, which is not to be found in Mr. Fox, though some of it helps to confirme something concerning him, affirmed by Mr. Fox, and called in question by others. Mr. Fox therefore first greatly prayseth his naturall gifts of minde, his sharpe wit, his excellent memory, which is indeed the store-house of all learning and know∣ledge, for tantum scimus quantum memini∣mus. But to these (saith he) he had great vices, as pride, envie, & cruelty, flattering to his Prince, submisse to his superiours, envious to his equals (namely to Cromwel) and haughty to his inferiours, these or the like are Mr. Foxes words. It seemes further in relation of his Life and Death, he was a Catholick-Protestant, or a pro∣testing

Catholick, for as he showes at large out of his Books & Sermons, though he received the Popes authority in Queen Maries time; Yet his opinion was as his writings before declared, and as the wiser sort I thinke, do still hold of it, that it is but a temporall constitution of Men, and agreement of Princes, to allow the same, which upon just occasions they may re∣straine or exclude, as they shall find cause; but yet I observe this, that although it was necessary for Queen Mary, in respect of her Birth to admit of the Popes Au∣thority, as the contrary was as necessary for her Sister, yet this so Catholicke Queen, and this so popish Prelate could keep out the Popes Legat out of England by her royall Prerogative when he would have sent a Legat hither not to her li∣king; again, he was earnest against Mar∣riage of Ministers, yet he confesseth frank∣ly, that a married man may be a Minister: he defended the reall presence, yet he al∣lowed the Cōmunion under both kinds, he writ in defence of Images, yet he pub∣lickly approved their pulling down when they were superstitiously abused. Finally he said at his Death, that that would marre all, to teach the people, that they

are freely justified by the blood of Christ, and yet even then, when hee could not dissemble, he confessed it to be true Do∣ctrine.

Loe how farre this stout Prelate, Cedere nescius, (as Mr. Fox saith of him) did yeeld in those many points of Popery. 1. Su∣premacy. 2. The marriage of some Mini∣sters. 3. The Sacrament in both kinds. 4. Removing Images. 5. Justification. But now for his sharp persecuting, or ra∣ther revenging himselfe on Cranmer and Ridley, that had in King Edwards daies deprived him, his too great cruelty can∣not be excused.

Lastly, the plots he laid to entrap the Lady Elizabeth, his terrible hard usage of all her followers, I cannot yet scarce think of with charity, nor write of with patience.

My father, onely for carrying a Letter to the Lady Elizabeth, and professing to wish her well, he kept in the Tower 12 moneths, and made him spend a thou∣sand pounds ere he could be free of that trouble. My mother, that then served the said Lady Elizabeth, he caused to be sequestred from her as an heretick, inso∣much that her own father durst not take

her into his house, but she was glad to sojourne with one Mr. Topcliff; so as I may say, in some sort, this Bishop persecuted me before I was born.

Yet, that I speak not at all in passion, I must confesse I have heard some as par∣tially praise his clemency and good con∣science, and namely, that he was cause of restoring many honourable houses, over∣thrown by King Henry the eighth, and in King Edwards minority. The Duke of Norfolke, (though Mr. Fox saith, that Gardiner made him stay long for his din∣ner one day) yet both he, and those de∣scended of him were beholding to him: with the house of Stanhops, and the Lord Arundell of Warder; and I have heard old Sir Matthew Arundell say, that Bonner was more faulty then he, and that Gar∣diner would rate at him for it, and call him asse for using poor men so bloodily; and when I would maintain the contrary, he would say, that my father was worthy to have lain in prison a yeer longer, for the saucy sonnet he wrote to him from out of the Tower; which sonnet, both because it was written in defence of Queen Elizabeth, and because (if I be not par∣tiall, it is no ill Verse, for those unrefined

times, and toucheth the matter I enforce) I will here set down; presupposing that in the eleven moneths before, he had sent him many Letters, and Petitions full of reason, (that could not prevaile) for his liberty. The distressed prisoner writeth this Rime.

1.

At least withdraw your cruelty, or force the time to work your will; It is too much extremity, to keep me pent in prison still. Free from all fault, voyd of all cause; Without all right, against all lawes. How can you doe more cruell spight, Then proffer wrong, and promise right? Nor can accuse, nor will acquight.

2.

Eleven moneths past, and longer space, I have abid your divellish drifts, While you have sought both man and place, and set your snares, with all your shifts; The fault lesse foot to wr ap in wile, With any guilt, by any guile; And now you see that will not be, How can you thus for shame agree, To keep him bound you can set free?

3.

Your chance was once, as mine is now,

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to keep this hold against your will, And then you sware you know well how, Though now you swearve, I know how ill. But thus the world his course doth passe, The Priest forgets a Clerke he was; And you that then cry'd justice still, And now have justice at your will, Wrest justice wrong, against all skill.

4.

But why doe I thus coldly plaine, as if it were my cause alone? When cause doth each man so constraine, as England through hath cause to moane, To see your bloody search of such, Whom all the Earth can no way touch. And better were that all your kind, Like hounds in hel with shame were shrind Then you had might unto your mind.

5.

But as the stone that strikes the wall, sometimes bounds back on th' hurlers head, So your foule fetch, to your foule fall, may turn and noy the brest that bred. And then such measure as you gave, Of right and justice look to have; If good or ill, if short or long; If false or true, if right or wrong, And thus, till then I end my Song.

But to shew a pattern, what partiality can paint in his praise, and what ill will can pervert to reproach, I will adde an Elegie in English also, written by one Mr. Prideaux, in commendation, and the same answered in execration of the same Bishop.

1.

THe Saints in Heaven rejoyce, this earth and we may waile; Sith they have won, and we have lost the guide of our availe.

2.

Though death hath loosed life yet death could not deface His worthy work, his stayed state, nor yet his gifts of grace.

3.

As Gardner was his name, So Gardned he his life With justice, and with mercy both, to 'stroy the weeds of strife.

4.

A Steven in Religion stout, a Bishop by his acts, A faithfull man most free from fraud, as witnesse be his facts;

5.

A Judge most just in judgement seat,

of parties no regard; An Eye to see, an Eare to heare, a hand that shunn'd reward.

6.

A heart to help, and not to harm; his will was wisdomes law, A minde that malice could not move, such was of God his awe.

7.

A faith in friendship firm and fast, a mount the right to raise. A Spright 'not pall'd with slanderous bruits nor puft with pride by praise.

8.

Not light of credit to reports, revenge he never sought, But would forgive, and did forget the wrongs that were him wrought.

9.

A truth, so tri'd in trust, as tongue could never taint. Nor earst was heard in guilefull wise, a lie with lips to paint.

10.

Though Natures child by birth, yet vertues heir by right, Which held his height so madestly, as measure master'd might.

11.

Ambitions climing cliffe could never move his minde, Nor fortune with her fawning cheer, his heart did ever blind.

12.

Nor Misery which most he felt, or prison might him pall, But bare his minde in levell so, as change could be no fall.

13.

In all these turns of joy and woe, he turned to the best; And held him to the tried truth, which now hath won him rest.

14.

From foes deface, and envies bell, his end hath made him free, And pluckt him from this wicked world, too worthy here to be.

15.

Who can give tears enough to plaino the losse and lack we have; So rare a man, so soon bereft, when most we did him crave.

16.

When age and yeers had made him ripe, and surely had him set, To know himselfe and weeld the world

and right with mercy met.

17.

And when of envy, and of hate, the conquest he had wonne, And falsehood forc'd to fly his fort, and right his race to run.

18.

And when of glory and of grace, he wonne the palm and price, And conquered all affections force, with wisdoms good advice.

19.

And in the office that he bare. and service of his Queen, So choice a man to serve her call, scarce any where was seen.

20.

Then death, that fatall fce, the line of life did lose, And in the belly of the earth as earth shee did him close.

21.

The Prince may plaine his death, the Realm his lack may rue; All men may say, O Winchester, most worthy wight adue.

22.

The poor may plaine and pine, whose lacks he did relieve;

His Servants may lament their Lord which Lordly did them give.

23.

The Bishops may behold a Bishop then berest, A perfect Priest, a shield of faith, a mirrour of them left

24.

His foes if any were, that first did wish him gone In length of time and lack of life too late his loss will mone.

25.

O Pastor past this Pilgrims pain in earth thine Acts do live, In skies thy vertues written are, all penns thee praise shall give.

26.

Which after all these heaps of kap a happy life hast led, And in the happiest hap of all in fame and love art dead.

The same answered verse for verse by an Ill-willer of the said Bishop.

1.

THe Devils in Hell do dance, this Realm and we may joy

Since they have got and we forgone the cause of our Annoy.

2.

Though death hath wipt out life, yet death cannot outrace His wicked works usurped state nor faults of his deface.

3.

A Gardner such he was, as spoiled so our plants, That Justice withered, mercy dy'd and we wrong by their wants.

4.

A Stev'n in name, a Fox in fact, a Bishop but in Weeds, A faithless man full fraught with frauds as deem him by his deeds.

5.

A partiall Judge in Judgement seat, of parties great respect, A blinded eye, a closed eare, a hand with bribe infect

6.

A heart to harm and not to help his lust was laid far low, A mind with malice over-whelm'd of God nor man no awe.

7.

A fained fickle friend and false that right could never bid, A courage every storm cast down and praise puft up with pride.

8.

Of fowle reports and slanderous bruts he nourisht up the brood; His wrongs to pardon or to passe revenge and rage withstood

9.

A tri'd untruth in trust, As tongues well try'd have told, A mouth that breath'd more odious lies then It' upbraid am bold.

10.

Scant Natures Child by birth sure Satans sonne in right Which rule maintain'd with sword & fire, and measur'd all by might.

11.

Ambitious clyming Cliffe had ravisht so his mind, As he was sotted drunk therein, and fortune made him blind.

12.

The smell of prisons misery felt his pride did greatly pall

He bare his staffe so staggeringly, as each change seem'd a fall.

13.

In all these turns of joy and woe he turned with the best, And never left the surer side till breath did leave his brest.

14.

From Widow course and Orphans crie his end him cannot save, Though that have rid kim of his raigne unworthy rule to have.

15.

Who can give thanks and joy enough that we have scapt this syre, This monstrous man this bloody beast, when most we did desire.

16.

When yeeres had fram'd him fit for Hell and pride so high had set, As God nor man nor self he knew and might with mischiefmet.

17.

And when the envy and the hate he wan of every wight, And falshood florisht in his Fort, and wrong had wrong outright;

18.

And when he gloried most in pomp,

in honour and in health, And by affection conquered all, and wallowed all in wealth;

19.

And in the Office that he bare to rule above the Queen, So cruel and so merciless, scarce ever man was seen;

20.

Then God that most just Judge lifes line to part was pleas'd, The Earth his Carrion corps hath caught▪ the Devil his soulhath seiz'd

21.

The Prince his death may please, this Realm his life doth rue, All men may well his birth-day, ban this cursed wretch that knew.

22.

The poor may plain and pine; for none be would relieve, His men may joy his death was such his Goods were his to give.

23.

Good Bishops may beware this Ravener them bereft, This popish-priest this shield of wrong, a warning for them left.

24.

His friends if any were, that wisht him longer ruigne With length of time might cause have caught too late his rule to plain

25.

O thou devourer of the good thy wrongs in earth do dwell, Thy cruel thirst of guiltless blood now must thou quench in hell.

26.

Which in the world of deadly hurts most burtfull life didst lead, And now with Englands common jay in shame and hate art dead.

Which of these wrote truest I will not take upon me to judge, left I should be thought partiall; but that saying ap∣peares true: Scribit in Marmore laesus. Therefore I will conclude against all partiall Poets, with two verses of

Ho∣race,

Falsus honor juvat et mendax infamia terret Quem? nisi mendosum & mendacem.

Doctor John White.

He was born of a worshipfull house, and in the Diocess of Winchester, and became after Warden of Winchester, thence for his great learning, and vertu∣ous life prefer'd to the Bishoprick of Lin∣coln, and after upon the death of Stephen Gardner, made Bishop of Winchester; wherefore of him I may say, his fame did well answer his name, and so would all men say (how contrary soever to him in Religion, but for one black Ser∣mon that he made; yet for the colour is may be said he kept decorum, because that was a Funerall Sermon of a great Queen both by birth and mariage, I mean Q. Mary. But the offence taken against him was this. His Text was out of Eccles. 4. 2. Laudavi mortuos magis quam viventes, & faliciorem utro{que} judicavi qui nec dum na∣tus est. And speaking of Queen Mary her high Parentage, Her bountifull dispositi∣on, Her great gravity, Her rare devotion, (praying so much as he affirmed that her knees were hard with kneeling, Her Ju∣stice and Clemency in restoring Noble Houses to her own privat losse and hind∣rance.

And lastly her grievous yet pati∣ent death: He fell into such an unfaign∣ed weeping, that for a long space he could not speak. Then recovering him∣self, he said she had left a Sister to succeed her, a Lady of great worth also whom they were now bound to obey; for saith he melior est Canis vivus Leone mortuo, & I hope so shall raign well and prosperously over us, but I must say still with my Text, Laudavi mortuos magis quam vi∣ventes; for certain that is, Maria optimam partem elegit: thus he, at which Queen E∣lizabeth taking just indignation, put him in prison, yet would proceed no further then to his deprivation, though some would have made that a more haynous matter. He was a man of austere life, and much more mortified to the World, than his Predecessor Gardiner, who was noted for ambitious, but vet to his Prince very obsequious. But if Doctor White had had a true propheticall spirit, he might have urged the second part of his Text. Sed faeliciorem utroque judicavi qui nec dum na∣tus et; for that may seem verified indeed in the Kings Majesty that now is, who was then unborn, and hath since so hap∣pily united these Kingdoms; yet least that

which I would make in him a Prophecy, others will take in me for flattery; I will proceed to the next, or rather I should say to another, for of the two next I need add nothing, my Authour having testifi∣ed by both their Epitaphs, that they li∣ved and died well.

Doctor Thomas Cooper.

I intend therefore to speak next of Dr. Cooper, because of Bishop Herne, and Bi∣shop Watson, I cannot add any thing up∣on sure ground, for of the former times, I have either Books of stories, or relation of my Fathers that lived in those dayes; but or these that lived in the first twenty yeeres of the Queens Raign when I was at school, or at the University, I could hear little, yet at my first coming to the Court, I heard this pretty tale, that a Bi∣shop of Winchester one day in pleasant talk, comparing his Revenue with the Arch-bishops of Canterbury, should say, your Graces will showe better in the Rack, but mine will be found more in the Manger, upon which a Courtier of good place said, it might be so in diebus illis; But saith he, the Rack stands so high in

sight, that it is fit to keep it full, but that may be, since that time, some have with a provideatur swept some provender out of the Manger: and because this Meta∣phor comes from the Stable, I suspect it was meant by the Mr. of the Horse. To come then to Bishop Cooper, of him I can say much, and I should do him great wrong, if I should say nothing; for he was indeed a reverent man, very well learned, exceeding industrious, and which was in those dayes counted a great praise to him, and a chief cause of his preferment, he wrote that great Dictio∣nary that yet bears his name, his Life in Oxford was very commendable, and in some sort Saint-like; for if it be Saint∣like to live unreprovable, to bear a cross patiently, to forgive great injuries freely: this mans example is sampleless in this age.

He maried a Wife in Oxford, for that speciall just cause (I had almost said onely cause) why Clergymen should ma∣ry, viz. for avoiding of sin. Melius est e∣nim nubere qu am uri, yet was that his very hard hap that she proved too light for his gravity by many grains, or rather many pounds. At the first he winkt at that with

a Socraticall and Philosophicall patience, taking, or rather mistaking the equivoca∣ting counsel of Erasmus Ecchoe. Quid si mihi veniat usu quod his qui incidunt in uxores parum pudicas parum{que} frugiferas? Feras. At qui cum talibus morte durior est vita? vita; wherein I observe in the two Ecchos, how in the first Feras signifies ei∣ther the verb, suffer, or that Nown, wild beasts, or shrews. In the latter, vita signi∣fieth the Nown life, or the verb shun or eschew: so he (good man) construed Feras, Vita. suffer during life, and I should take that vita Feras shun shrews. But this Fe∣ra whom his Feras made Feram, com∣mitted wickedness even with greediness, more then was in power of flesh and blood to bear: wherewith being much afflicted, having warned his Brother pri∣vatly, and born with him perhaps 70. times seven times. In the end taking him both in a place and fashion (not fit to be named) that would have angred a Saint, he drave him thence, (not much unlike) as Tobias drove away the spirit Asmo••eus, for that was done with a Roste, and this with a spit. It was high time now to follow the Counsel. Dic Ecclesiae, so (as all Oxford knows) her Paramor

was bound from her in a bond of one hundred pound, but they should rather have been bolts of an hundred pound.

The whole University in reverence of the man and indignity of the matter, offered him to separate his wife from him by publique authority, and so to set him free, being the innocent party. But he would by no means agree thereto, al∣ledging he knew his own infirmity, that he might not live unmarried; and to di∣vorce and marry againe, he would not charge his conscience with so great a scandall.

After he was Bishop, mad Martin, or Marprelate wrote his book or rather Li∣bell, which some (playing with Martin at his own weapon) answered pleasantly both in Ryme and Prose, as perhaps your Highnesse hath seen, or I wish you should see, for they are short and sharp. But this Bishop with authority and gravity confu∣ted him soundly; whereupon Martin Madcap, (for I think his cap and head had like proportion of wit) replying, and anabaptized his bastard book by the name of Work for the Cooper; and had not the wisdome of the State prevented him, I think he and his favourers would have

made work for the Tinker.

And so much of Bishop Cooper, though I could adde a report, that a great Lord dying in his time bequeathed him a great Legacy, but because I have not seen his last testament, I cannot precisely affirm it.

William Wickham.

This Bishop my Authour professeth to reverence for his names sake, and his pre∣decessors sake; and I much more for his own sake, and his vertues sake. About the yeere 1570. he was Vice-provost of Eaton, and as the manner was, in the Schoolmasters absence would teach the schoole himselfe, and direct the boyes for their exercises (of which my selfe was one) of whom he shewed as fatherly a care, as if he had been a second Tutor to me. He was reputed there a very milde and good natured man, and esteemed a very good Preacher, and free from that which St. Paul calleth Idolatry, I mean covetousnesse; so that one may say pro∣bably, that as the first William Wickham was one of the richest Prelates that had been in Winchester a long time, and be∣stowed

it well; so this was one of the poorest, and endured it well. He prea∣ched before the Queen at a Parliament, I think the last time that ever he preached before her; and indeed it was Cygnea vox, sweetest, being neerest his end, which if I could set down as he delivered, were well worth the remembring. But the effect was this, that the Temporalities of Bi∣shopricks, and Lands of Colledges, and such like, were from the beginning for the most part the graces, gifts, and Almes of Princes, her Majesties progenitors, that for some excesses and abuses of some of them, they had been and lawfully might be some quite taken away, some altered, some diminished, and that accordingly they were now reduced to a good medi∣ocrity; for though there were some farre greater Bishopricks in France, Spaine, and Germany••, yet there were some also lesse and meaner even in Italy. But yet he most humbly besought her Majesty to make stay of them at least in this medio∣crity; for if they should decay so fast in thirty yeeres to come, as they had for thirty yeeres past, there would hardly be a Cathedrall Church found in good re∣paire within England; which inconveni∣ence

(he said) would soon spread from the Clergy to the Temporalty, that would have cause with Hippocrates Twins to laugh and weep together. This, as he spake zealously, so the Queen gave eare to it graciously, and some good effect was supposed to follow it, for which they both now feel their reward;

and thus much of Wickham.

William Day.

It was said that a pleasant Courtier and Servitor of King Henry the eighth, to whom the King had promised some good turn, came and prayed the King to be∣stow a Living on him, that he had found out, worth 100 li. by the yeere more then enough; why, saith the King, we have none such in England: yes Sir, said his man, the Provostship of Eaton; for (said he) he is allowed his diet, his lodging, his horse∣meat, his servants wages, his riding charge, his apparrell, even to the points of his hose, at the Colledge charge; and 100 li. per annum besides. How true this is, I know not, but this I know, that Mr. Day having both this and the Deanry of

Windsor was perswaded to leave them both, to succeed him (that had been once his Vice-provost of Eaton) in the Church of Winchester. He was a man of a good nature, affable and courteous, and at his table, and in other conversation pleasant, yet alwaies sufficiently containing his gra∣vity. When he was first Deane of Wind∣sor, there was a singing man in the Quire, one Woolner, a pleasant fellow, but fa∣mous for his eating, rather then his sing∣ing; and for the swallow of his throat, then for the sweetnesse of his note. Master Deane sent a man to him to reprove him for not singing with his fellows; the Messenger thought all were worshipfull at least that did then weare white Sur∣plices, and told him Mr. Deance would pray his worship to sing; thank Mr. Dean (quoth Woolner) and tell him, 1 am as merry as they that sing; which answer, though it would have offended some man, yet hearing him to be such as I have described, he was soon pacified. He brake his leg with a fall from a horse, that star∣ted under him; whereupon some waggish schollers, of which my selfe was in the quorum, would say it was a just punish∣ment, because the horse was given him

by a Gentleman to place his sonne in Ea∣ton, which at that time was thought had been a kind of sacriledge, but I may also say, Cum eram parvulus sapiebam ut par∣vulus. He had in those daies a good and familiar fashion of preaching not mincing the word, as some doe, with three words to feed 3000 people, that goe away all sometimes as empty as they came; nor as others, that are Nodosi drawing their au∣ditory with them into deep questions and dangerous passages; that howsoever they suppose they come of themselves much admired, they leave their auditors many times more then halfe mired; but this was a good plain fashion, apt to edifie, and easie to remember; I will repeat one lesson of many, that I remember out of Sermons of his, which I can imagine yet I heare him pronouncing, and it was con∣cerning prayer: It is not (saith he) a praying to God, but a tempting of God, to beg his blessings, without doing also our own endeavours; shall a scholler pray to God to make him learned, and never goe to his book? shall a husband∣man pray for a good harvest, and let his Plow stand still: the Pagans, and the hea∣then people would laugh at such devo∣tion.

In their fabulous Legion they have a tale of Hercules, whom for his strength they counted a God; how a Carter (for∣sooth had overthrown his Cart, and sate in the way crying, help Hercules, help Hercules; at last Hercules, or one in his likenesse came to him, and swadled him thriftily with a good cudgell, and said, thou varay lazie selly fellow (so he used to pronounce) callest thou to me for help & dost nothing they selfe; arise, set to thy shoulder & heave thy part, and then pray to me to help thee, and I will doe the rest. And thus much of our good old Provost, who being made a Bishop, & of a Register of the Garter becoming now Prelate of the Garter, enjoying this dignity a very short time, turned his day into night, though no night can oppresse them that die in the Lord. By the way, I think this worthy the noting, that whereas in Anno Dom. 1486. being the first of King Henry the seventh, it was found that three Bishops successively had held this Bishop∣rick six score yeeres save one, namely, Wickham, Beauford, and Wainfleet. Now in Queen Elizabeths raigne, there had been seven Bishops in forty yeeres, five in seventeen yeers, and three in four yeeres.

Doctor Thomas Bilson.

My Author, following his own reso∣lution of forbearing to speak of men now living, or but lately dead; and I holding my purpose to speak frankly and truly, as farre as my understanding will serve me, both of dead and living; I am now comming to speak of the present Bishop of VV inchester, of whom I finde in this book but foure lines; and if I should give him his due in proportion to the rest, I should spend foure leaves. Not that I need make him better known to your Highnesse, being (as on just occasion, as I noted before) one of the most eminent of his ranck, and a man that carried pre∣lature in his very aspect. His rising was meerly by his learning, as true Prelates should rise. Sint non modo labe mali sed suspicione errantis, not onely free from the spot, but from the speech of corrup∣tion. Hee ascended by all degrees of schooles; first, wherein to win know∣ledge himselfe, next whereby to impart it to others, having sometime taught the schoole that doth justly boast of the

name of VVinchester, where, if I mistake not, he succeeded the excellent scholler and schoolmaster Doctor Johnson, that wrote that forecited Poem of VVickham; and having praised all his predecessors in pretty Disticks, he wrote this at the last in modesty of himselfe.

Ultimus hic ego sum, sed quam bene quam male nolo Dicere, de me qui judicet alter erit.

And accordingly his successor gave this judgement,

Ultimus es ratione loci, re primus Johnson, Sed quis qui de te judicet aptus erit. Tam bene quam nullus qui te praecesserit ante Tam male posteritas ut tua pejus agat.

Wherein Mr. Johnson became truly fortunate, according to the saying, Laudari a laudato viro, laus est maxima. Him fame doth raise, whose praiser me∣rits praise.

From Schoolmaster of VVinchester, he became Warden, and having been infi∣nitely studious and industrious in Poetry, in Philosophy, in Physick; and lastly, (which his genius chiefly call'd him to)

in Divinity, he became so compleat, for skill in Languages, for readinesse in the Fathers, for judgement to make use of his readings, as he was found to be no longer a souldier, but a Commander in chiefe, in our spirituall warfare, being first made Bishop of Worcester, and after of Winchester. In the mean season a crew of mutinous souldiers (a forlorne hope) untertook to surprize one of the twelve fortresses of our faith, I mean one of twelve Articles of the Creed, and ere men were aware they had entred by a Postern cor∣rupted, a Watchman or two thrown down a battlement and set up their Colours of white and black (black and blew had been fitter for them) publishing a book in print, that Christ descended not into Hell. The alarum was taken by many faithfull servitors of the Militant Church, but many were not found fit for this en∣terprize, for that was whispered, (nay rather publisht in the enemies Camp, that some cowardly souldiers of our side had made a motion to have this Fort, or part thereof rased, because there was thought to be perill in defending of it; for so Campian writes confidently, that Cheyney Bishop of Gloucester had affirmed to him,

how it had been moved in a Convocation at London, Quemadmodum sine tumultu penitus eximatur de symbolo; how with∣out many words it might be taken out of the Creed wholy. But I leave Erasmus eccho to answer it, oly. True it is, there was a hot shot one Mr. Browghton, no Can∣nonere, for he loves no Cannons, but that could skill of such fireworks, as might seem to put out hell fire; this hot braine having with a Petard or two broken open some old dore, tooke upou him with like Powder out of some Basilisk (as I think) to shoot Hades quite beyond Sunne and Moon; such a Powder-work against all Divinity and Philosophy, as was never heard of, alwaies excepting the powder∣treason. Then this learned Bishop, like a worthy leader (that I proceed in this metaphor) with a resolute Troop, not of loose shot, but gravis armaturae, arm'd to proofe out of Christs armorie, the old and new Testament, Fathers, Doctors, Schoolmen, Linguists, encounters these Lanzbezzadoes, casts down their Colours, repaires up the raines, beautifies the bat∣tlements, rams up the mynes, and makes such ravelings, and counter-searfes about this Fort, that now none of the Twelve

may seem more impregnable. Their great Inginere, before mentioned, upon griefe of this repulse, is gone (as I heare) to teach the Jewes Hebrew; God send him to scape Hades at the end of his journey. Yet in the heat of these skirmishes there happened an accident worthy to be re∣membred, and I think by the very devise of the divell. This Bishop preaching at Pauls Crosse, upon this Article of the Creed; and there proving by authority irrefragable, that hell is a place prepared for the Divel and his angels; that it is be∣neath in corde terrae, and that Christ de∣scended into it. Satan, that knew all this to be true, and was sorry to remember it, and wisht that none of the Auditors would believe it, raised a sudden and causelesse feare, by the fraud or folly of some one auditor. This feare so incre∣dibly possest not onely the whole multi∣tude, but the Lord Major and other Lords there, that they verily believed Pauls Church was at that instant falling down, whereby such a tumult was raised, as not onely disturbed their devotion and atten∣tion, but did indeed put some of the gra∣vest, wisest and noblest of that assembly into evident hazard of their lives, as I

have heard of some of their own mouthes. The Bishop not so dismayed himselfe, sympathizing in pitty, rather then feare of their causelesse dismay, after the tu∣mult was a little pacified, finished his Sermon; upon which accident, some fa∣vourers of that opinion make themselves merry with this story, that at least that which they could not confute they might seem to contemn.

Of EELY.

Doctor Martin Heaton.

OF Eely I have not much to say, yet in a little I may be thought by some to say too much; which I will adventure, rather then your Highnesse shall blame me for saying nothing. I was among o∣thers at Bishop Cox his funerall, being then either Batcheler, or a very young Master of Arts; but some yeeres after we thought it would have proved the Fune∣rall of the Bishoprick, as well as of the Bishop. Something there was that had distasted the Queen concerning Bishop Cox, in his life time; either his much reti∣rednesse,

or small hospitality, or the spoyl he was said to make of woods and Parks, feeding his family with powdred veni∣son; all which, I know not how truly, was suggested to her against him, in his life time, and remembred after his death. For our opinion of him in Cambridge, we held him a good scholler, and a better Poet then Doctor Haddon, who call'd him Master; whether as having been his scholler or servan't I know not; but a∣mong his Poems, is extant a Distick written to B. Cox.

Vix Caput attollens e lecto scribere carmen. Qui velit is voluit, scribere plura, vale.

which Verse being but even a sick Verse, he answered ex tempore, as they tell, with this,

Te mag is optarem salvum sine carmine fili, Quam sine te salvo carmina multa. Vale.

As for his Church of Eely, it seemed he had no great love there, to have his mo∣nument defaced within twenty yeeres (as this Authour writes) so as remembring his good beginning, one may say of him, coepisti melius quam desinis.

But to let him rest, I must confesse that

it was held for one of the blemishes of Queen Elizabeths Virgin raigne. First, to keep this Sea of Eely vacant so long after Bishop Coxes death, and after to take a∣way so large a portion from it, as is ge∣nerally spoken; yet that I may both speak my conscience, and shew my charity as well to my deceased Soveraigne, as to the reverend Bishop yet living, I will say this: First, I could wish it had not been so, and that the occasion of such a scandall between the Crown and Miter had been taken away. Secondly, I doe say for the Queen, she did no new thing; and it is held a principle of State, that whatsoever there is a president for, is law∣full for a Prince. I consider further, that Eely was a Bishoprick of none of the first erections, but many yeeres after the con∣quest; so as England stood christned without a Bishoprick of Eely srom Augu∣stine the Monk above five hundred yeeres. It was a place also that the Crown had been jealous of for the strength of it, ha∣ving sometime held out the Conquerour, as our writers affirm; and King Henry the third, a wise and fortunate Prince, said, it was not fit for a Cloyster man, and of late yeeres Mooreton undertook to hold

it against Richard the third, for Henry the second. Adde hereunto, that though it was vacant in name, yet the profits there∣of may seem to have been perhaps more charitably and honourably imployed then before, to relieve the poore distres∣sed King of Portugall, who was call'd by some Schollers Bishop of Eely, which is lesse scandalous then for Jeffrey Plant a∣genet to hold the Bishoprick of Lincoln for seven yeeres, without consecration, the Sea being kept voyd seventeen yeeres; and for Ethelmare to hold Winchester in like manner nine yeeres in Henry the thirds time; to omit how Stygand in the Conquerours time, and Woolsey in Henry the eighth his time, both held Winchester in commendam. As for changing or aba∣ting the possessions of it, the laws then in force allowed it (though a most godly law since restrained the like) and I would all the Bishopricks in England were but so well left. Now to come to Doctor Heaton, he was compelled in a sort so to take it (for potentes cum rogant jubent) and as long as there was not quid dabis, but haec auferam, the more publique it was, and by authority then lawfull he may be thought the more free from

blame. But were Eely as good as ever it was, that could not finde the mouth••s bread that finde fault with his taking it in that order.

Before his Majesties comming to Ox∣ford, I was in Oxford Library, and some of good quality of both the Universities; and one of their chiefe Doctors said mer∣rily to a Cambridge man, that Oxford had formerly had a good Library, till such time (said he) as a Cambridge man be∣came our Chancellour, and so can∣cell'd or catalog'd and scattered our Books (he meant Bishop Cox in King Ed∣wards time) as from that time to this we could never recover them. The other straight replied, then are you even with us, for one of your Oxford men hath seal'd so many good deeds of our good Bishop∣rick in Cambridgeshire, that till they be canecl'd, it will never be so good as it should be. By his christen name also many take occasion to allude to this matter, which whether for brevity sake he writ Mar or Mart, or at full length Martin, alwaies by adding Eely unto it, it sounds to the like sence, that either he did Marr it, or Mart it, or Martin it. But he is too wise to be troubled with these.

Sapientis est nil praestare praeter culpam. If any fare the worse for this now, it is him∣self. And as for his learning, nd other good parts belonging to a Bishop, he is inferr∣our to few of his ranke, as your High∣nesse can tell, that have heard him preach before the Kings Majesty, who said of him, that fat men were wont to make lean Sermons; but his were not leane, but larded with much good learning.

And so much of the Bishoprick and Bishop of Eely.

Of LINCOLN.

Of Doctor Chaterton now living.

Following my Authors method, I am next to speak of Lincoln, a very large Diocesse, yet not so great a Bishoprick as it hath been, which I suspect by the oft re∣moves from it, as Bullingham, Cooper and Wickham in Queen Elizabeths time; and White in Queen Maries time. I'note also, that one of these removed to Worcester, namely Bullingham; of which I can ima∣gine no reason, except the largenesse: of the Diocesse make it more painfull, as

indeed it would, if the decree made in a Synod held by Saint Cuthbert in Eng∣land were duely observed. Of which the third, as Mr. Fox hath it is, that every Bishop once every yeere should goe over all the parishes of his Diocesse; with which Decree by what authority men dispence, I know not, but sure few doe keep it.

This Doctor William Chaterton, now Bishop of Lincoln, and before of Chester, I may remember in Cambridge a learned and grave Doctor; though for his gravi∣ty hee could lay it aside when pleased him, even in the Pulpit, it will not be forgotten in Cambridge while he is re∣membred, how preaching one day, in his younger yeers, a wedding Sermon (which indeed should be festivall) as the Mar∣chant Royall was at my Lord Hays marriage (with which being now in print many a good husband doth endeavour to edifie his wife.) I say, Mr. Chatterton is reported to have made this pretty com∣parison, and to have given this friendly caveat: That the choice of a wife was full of hazzard, not unlike as if one in a barrell full of Serpents should grope for one Fish; if (saith he) he scape harm of the snakes, and light on a fish, he may be

thought fortunate, yet let him not boast, for perhaps it may be but an Eele, &c. Howbeit he married afterwards himself, and I doubt not sped better then his comparison. He was well beloved a∣mong the schollers, and the rather for that he did not affect any soure and au∣stere fafhion, either in teaching or go∣vernment, as some use to doe; but well tempered both with courage and cour∣tesie. Being made Bishop of Chester, he was a very great friend to the house of Darby. Preaching the funerall Sermon of Henry Earle of Darby, for some passa∣ges whereof he was like to be call'd in question, though perhaps himselfe knew not so much; I was present when one told a great Lord that loved not Ferdi∣nando the last Earle, how this Bishop ha∣ving first magnified the dead Earle for his fidelity, justice, wisdome, and such vertues, as made him the best beloved man of his ranke (which praise was not altogether undeserved) he after used this Apostrophe to the Earle present; And you (saith he) noble Earle, that not onely inherit, but exceed your fathers vertues, learn to keepe the love of your Countrey, as your father did; you give,

saith he, in your Arms, Three Legs; know you what they signifie? I tell you, they signifie three shires, Cheshire, Darbishire, and Lancashire; stand you fast on these three legs, and you shall need feare none of their armes. At which this Earle a little moved, said in some heat, not with∣out an oath: This Priest, I believe, hopes one day to make him three Courtsies. But the two Earles I trust are friends now, both being since departed this world, (though neither as I could wish them) the one dying of a Yex, the other of an Axe. The Bishop was removed to Lincoln, where he now remains in very good state, having one onely daughter married to a Knight of good worship, though now they living asunder, he may be thought to have had no great comfort of that ma∣trimony, yet to her daughter he means to leave a great patrimony; so as one might not unfitly apply that Epigram written of Pope Paulus and his daughter to this Bishop and his grandchild.

Cum sit filia Paule, cum tibi aurum, Quantum Pontifices habere raros. Vidit Roma prius patrem non possum, Sanctum discere id sed possum beatum.

Which I thus translated, when I thought not thus to apply it.

Thou hast a daughter Paulus, I am told, and for this daughter store thou hast of gold. The daughter thou didst get, the gold didst gather make thee no holy, but a happy father.

But if the Bishop should fortune to hear that I apply this verse so saucily, and should be offended with it, I would be glad in full satisfaction of this wrong, to give him my sonne for his daughter, which is a manifest token that I am in perfect charity with him.

Of COVENTRY, and LICHFIELD.

Doctor William Overton, now living.

OF this Bishoprick may be observed, that which hapned (I think) to no other in all Queen Elizabeths raigne, that from the first yeere of her entrance (what time she made them all new) she never after gave this Bishoprick, but once, and

that was to Doctor William Overton, the one and twentieth yeer of her reigne, he being then of good yeeres; so as one may probably conjecture, that he honoured his parents well, because he had the blessing promised to such, viz. that his daies have been long in the Land. I can make no speciall relation concerning him, but the generall speech as I have heard travelling through the Countrey, which is not to be contemned; for, Vox populi, vox dei est. Two speciall things are commended in him, which very few few Bishops are praised for in this age: One, that he keepeth good hospitality for the poore; the other, that he keepeth his house in good reparation. Both which I have seldome heard a married Bishop commended for; and I will be bold to adde this further, that if they would doe both those, I think no man would take exceptions either for their marriage or bigamy. The Churches also are very well kept; and for those of Coventry, they are (of Parish Churches) the fairest I have seen, though (as I partly noted before) they have had sometimes another kind of superintendency, for the Bishops keepe most at Lichfield.

The pavement of Coventry Church is almost all Tombstones, and some very ancient; but there came in a zealous fel∣low with a counterfeit commission, that for avoyding of superstition, hath not left one penny-worth, nor one penny∣bredth of brasse upon the Tombes, of all the inscriptions, which had been many, and costly.

Further I note this, that whereas in Bishop Langtons time there were many Parks belonging to the Sea, in which the Prince committed some disorder in the time of Edward the first, now it is much altered, for he hath not past one, the rest being perhaps turned to pastures, and the Deere into tamer beasts.

Of SALISBURY.

Bishop Jewell.

OF how great antiquity this Bishop∣rick had been in former times, two things doe especially declare. One, that ever since the conquest Ordinale secundum usum Sarum was received over all Eng∣land; another, that the Clergy of Salis∣bury

were able of their owne charge to erect such a goodly Church, and stone∣steeple, as that is which now stands, which at this day a subsidy were scarce able to performe.

To omit how Sherborn Castle, and the Devizes were both built by one Bishop of Salisbury, and in this State that conti∣nued till the yeer 1539. what time Doctor Capon was translated from Bangor thi∣ther, a man for learning and wit worthy to be of Apollos crew; but for his spoile and havock he is said to have made of the Church-land, more worthy to be of Apollions crew, for he is noted to be one of the first that made a Capon of his Bi∣shoprick, and so guelded it, that it will never be able to build either Church or Castle again. The place being in this sort much impoverished, Bishop Jewel was preferr'd unto it the first yeere of Queen Elizabeth, a Jewel indeed, as in name, Re gemma fuit, nomine gemma fuit. He, though he could not maintaine the Port his predecessors did, finding his houses decayed, and Lands all leased out, yet kept very good hospitality, and gave himselfe withall much to writing books, of which divers are extant, and in many

mens hands, viz. His Apology of the Church of England; His challenge, answered by Harding; His Reply to the said Answer; all in English, and all in such estimation, even untill this day, that as St. Ofmond in William the Conquerours time, gave the pattern for form of service to all the Churches of England, so Mr. Jewels wri∣tings are a kind of rule to all the reformed Churches of England, and hardly is there any controversie of importance handled at this day, of which in his works is not to be found some learned and probable Resolution. One thing I will specially commend him for, though I shall not be commended for it my selfe of some, and that is, whereas he defended the marri∣age of Priests, no man better; yet he would never marry himselfe, saying, Christ did not counsell in vaine, Qui po∣test capere, capiat. He had a very reverent regard of the ancient fathers writings, and especially St. Augustine, out of which books he found many authorities against some superstitions crept into the Roman Church. Why he had such a mind to lie by Bishop Wyvill, I cannot guesse, except perhaps of his name he had taken a Cau∣rat, to keep himselfe without a wife. For

the whole course of his life from his childhood, of his towardlinesse from the beginning, and how he was urged to subscribe in Queen Maries time, and did so, being required to write his name, saying, they should see he could write; (which shewed it was not ex animo) Doctor Humphrey hath written a severall Treatise.

Doctor John Coldwell, Doctor of Physick.

Though Doctor Guest succeeded Bi∣shop Iewell and my Author makes him a good writer, yet he shall not be my guest in this discourse, having nothing to en∣tertaine him with, or rather your Highnesse with in reading of him. But how his successor Doctor Coldwell of a Physician became a Bishop I have heard by more then a good many (as they say) and I will briefly handle it, and as tender∣ly as I can bearing my self equall between the living and the dead. I touched before how this Church had surfeited of a Ca∣pon, which being heavy in her stomacke, it may be thought she had some need of

a Physician. But this man proved no good Church Physicians; had she been sick of a Plurisey, too much abounding with bloud as in ages past, then such bleeding Physick perhaps might have done it no harm. Now inclining rather to a consum∣ption to let that bleed afresh at so large a veine, almost was enough to draw out the very life bloud (your Highnesse will par∣don my Physick metaphors, because I have lately look't over my Schola Saler∣ni) I protest I am free from any desire to deface the dead undeservedly, and as farre from any fancy to insult on the misfor∣tunes of the Living uncivilly, and in my particular the dead man I speake of never hurt me, and the Living man I shal speake of hath done me some kindnesse; yet the manifest judgements of God on both of thē I may not pass over with silence. And to speak first of the Knight who carried the Spolia opima of this Bishoprick, having gotten Sherborne Castle, Park and Parso∣nage, he was in those dayes in so great fa∣vour with the Queen, as I may boldly say, that with lesse suit then he was faine to make to her e're he could perfect this his purchase, and with lesse money then he bestowed since in Sherborne in building

and buying out Leases and in drawing the River through rocks into his garden he might have very justly and without of∣fence of the Church or State have com∣passed a much better Purchase.

Also that I have beene truly informed he had a presage before he first attempted it, that did foreshew it would turne to his ruine, and might have kept him from medling with it (Si mens non laeva fuis∣set) for as he was riding post betweene Plymouth and the Court, as many times he did upon no small imployments, this Ca∣stle being right in the way, he cast such an eye upon it as Ahab did upon Naboths Vineyard and once above the rest being talking of it, of the cōmodiousnesse of the place, of the strength of the seat, and how easily it might be got from the Bishoprick, suddenly over and over came his horse, that his very face, which was then thought a very good face, plowed up the earth where he fell. This fall was ominous I make no question, as the like was obser∣ved in the Lord Hastings, and before him in others, and himselfe was apt enough to construe it so; but his brother Adrian would needs have him interpret that not as a Courtier but as a Conquerour, that it

presaged the quiet possession of it. And accordingly for the present that fell out, he got that with much labour and travell and cost, and envy, and obloquy to him & his heires Habendu et tenendum but e're that came fully to gaudendum; see what became of him. In the publick joy and ju∣bile of the whole Realme, when favour and peace and pardon was offer'd even to offendors, he that in wit, in wealth, in cou∣rage was inferiour to few, fell suddenly I cannot tell how into such a downfall of despaire, as his greatest enemy would not have wished him so much harme, as he would have done himselfe. Can any man be so wilfully blind, as not to see and to say, Digitus Dei est hic, that it is Gods do∣ing and his judgement which appeares? yet also more plaine by the sequel, for by St. Augustines rule, when adversity breeds amendment, then that is a signe it is of Gods sending, who would not have our correction turne to our confusion: so hapned it to this Knight being condem∣ned to dye, yet God in whose hand is the heart of the King put into his merci∣full minde against mans expectation to save his life; and since by the suite of his faithfull wife both to preserve his estate

and to ease his restraint in such sort as many that are at liberty, tast not greater comforts then he doth in prison, being not barr'd of those companions (I meane bookes) that he may and perhaps doth take more true comfort of then ever he tooke of his courtly companions in his chiefest bravery. Neither is he without hope, that upon his true repentance, God may yet further adde to incline his Ma∣jesty (e're seven times goe over his head) to a full liberty. Now to returne to the Bishop that was the second party delin∣quent in this Petilarceny, or rather plaine sacriledge, what was his purpose, to make himselfe rich by making his Sea poore? Attain'd he his purpose herein? nothing lesse: no Bishop of Sarum since the Con∣quest dyed so notorious a Beggar as this, his friends glad to bury him suddenly and secretly. Sine Lux, sine Crux, sine Clinco, as the old by word is, being for hast be-like clapt into Bishop Wyvills grave, that even at the Resurrection, he may be ready to accuse him and say, I re∣covered Sherborne from a King, when that had beene wrongfully detained two hun∣dred years, and thou didst betray it to a Knight, after that had been quietly pos∣sest

other two hundred yeares. Some might imagine this a presage that Sher∣borne may one day revert againe to the Bishoprick. But there is a signe in Hy∣dromanti against it. For in digging your grave (notwithstanding all the hast was made) so great a spring brake into that, as fill'd that all with water, & quite wash't away the presage, so as that dead Bishop was drowned before he could be buried, and according to his name laid into a cold well before he was covered with the cold earth.

Doctor Henry Cotton.

This Bishoprick being now reduced to a Mediocrity more worthy of pitty then envy, her Majesty (as I have heard) made a speciall choyce of this her Chap∣lain, being a gentleman of a worshipfull house, and her God-sonne when she was Lady Elizabeth, whereupon it is re∣ported that she said, that she had blest many of her God-sonnes but now this God-sonne should blesse her; whether she were the better for his blessing I know not, but I am sure he was the better for

hers. The common voyce was Sir Wal∣tcr Raleigh got the best blessing of him (though as I said before) I rather count it a curse to have his estate in Sherborn to be confirmed that before was questio∣nable. But it was his wisest way rather then to have a potent enemy and a tedi∣ous suite. He married very young; for I was told some yeares since, he had nine∣teene children by one woman, which is no ordinary blessing, and most of them sonnes. A man that had three sonnes or more among the Ancient Romans en∣joyed thereby no smal priviledges, though the later Romans make it not a merit in a Bishop. His wifes name was Patience, the name of which I have heard in few wives, the quality in none. He hath one sonne blind (I know not if by birth, or accident) but though his eyes be blind, he hath an understanding so illuminate, as he is like to prove the best scholler of all his brethren. One especiall commen∣dation I may not omit, how by this good Bishops means, and by the assistance of the learned Deane of Sarum Doctor Gour∣den, a seminary called Mr. Carpenter, a good schollar and in degree a Batchelour of Divinity, was converted and testified

his owne conversion publickly in a Ser∣mon upon this Text, Acts 9. 18. There fell as it were Scales from his eyes, saying that three Scales hath bleared his sight, viz. Anti∣quity, Universality, and Consent, but now the Scales being fallen away, he saw plainly, their Antiquity Novelty, their U∣niversality a Babylonicall Tyranny, and their Consent a Conspiracy. And thus much be said of my god-brother, and (be it said) without presumption your High∣nesse god-brother, Doctor Henry Cotton.

Of the Bishops of BATH and WELLS,

and first of Dr. Oliver King.

Concerning Bath I have such plenty of matter to entertaine your High∣nesse with (I meane variety of discourse) as I study rather how to abbreviate it, then how to amplifie it: I should have be∣gunne at Bishop Barlow, but I respect so much the very name of King, as I could not let him passe without some homage; and because the chiefe Bath of which the Towne hath the name is called the Kings

Bath, I shall add somewhat also, either o∣mitted, or but sleightly touched in the Precedent booke by mine Author, but somewhat more largely handled in the Latin Treatise mentioned by him page 307. in the life of Stillington out of which I will cite a passage or two as occasion shall serve.

First therefore for the City of Bath, to omit all the Antiquities noted by Mr. Camden and other good Authors, as also seen by my selfe, I observe this, that a∣mongst all our old Traditions and Le∣gends thereof, that seemeth as it were purposely left in suspence and not yet fully determined, whether the Crowne or the Miter have more claime to the vertue that all men see and say to be in these waters. Some affirme that King Bladud a learned King, brought up at A∣thens long before Christs time, either by his cunning in Magick did frame it; or rather by his search did finde it, or at least with his cost did first found it: others believe that King Arthurs Uncle St. David a Bishop of Wales, that lived longer with Leekes then we doe now with Larkes and Quailes, by his Prayer procured this ver∣tue to these Springs, but this is manifest

by most credible Histories, that Offa King of Mercia built a goodly Abby there, where before had been a Temple of Mi∣nerva and Hercules, whom they feined to be Presidents of hot Bathes. This Mona∣stery built by Offa 775 was destroyed by the Danes being then no Christians about the yeare 900. Then it was reedified by Elphegus a Bishop of Canterbury 1010. and continued in great estimation for a place of holy and strickt life, but had not yet the Title of a Bishoprick, till John de Vil∣lula, a French man borne and a Physician by profession, being made Bishop of Wells, which was in Latin de Fontibus, admiring the vertue of these Bathes and the Cures they wrought, for which it had been long before by the Saxons surnamed Akman∣chester, that is sick mans Towne. This John de Villula thinking this place de Fon∣tibus, more honourable then the other cal'd Wells, bought this City of K. William Rufus and translated his seat thither. And finding that both that Towne and Abbey had beene late before defaced with fire, he new built both about the yeare 1122 and was the first Bishop was buried there.

Then was that againe burned in the yeare 1132 and repaired againe by Bishop

Robert, and remained still the Bishops seat and inheritance, till that Bankrout B••shop Savaricus for covetousnesse of Glastenbu∣ry, In mercedem bujus unionis (to use my Authors word) for recompence of this U∣nion of Glatenbury to Wells, gave Bath a∣gaine to King Richard the First, and yet notwithstanding these two so huge Reve∣nues, he spent so prodigally and unprovi∣dently in his many journeyes to the Em∣perour, that it is written he had a Legion of creditors, and for his wandring hu∣mours he had this written for an Epitaph, though not set on his Tombe at Bath.

Hospes eras Mundo, per Mundum semper eun∣d•• Sic suprema die, fit tibi prima quies.

Thus Bath againe after 100 yeares, be∣came the Kings, and ever may it be so. But the Church was not so sufficiently repai∣red as it ought in so much that in Hen∣ry the sevenths time it was ready to fall, what time that Oliver King about 100. yeares since built it againe with so goodly a Fabrick as the stone work stands yet so firme, notwithstanding the injuries of men time and tempests upon it. Here I may by no meanes omit, yet I can scarce

tell how to relate the pretty Tales that are told of this Bishop King, by what visi∣ons, predictions he was encouraged and discouraged in the building of this Church, whether some cunning woman had foretold him of the spoyle that fol∣lowed, as Paulus Jovius writes how a witch deceived his next successor Ha∣drian Bishop of Bath, or whether his own minde running of it gave him occasion to dreame sleeping of that he thought wa∣king, but this goes so currant and confir∣med with pretty probabilities. That lying at Bath and musing or meditating one night late after his devotions and prayers for the prosperity of Henry the se∣venth and his children (who were then all or most part living) to which King he was principall Secretary and by him pre∣ferred to this Bishoprick; He saw, or sup∣posed he saw a vision of the holy Trinity with Angels-ascending and descending by a ladder, neere to the which there was a faire Olive Tree supporting a Crowne, and a voyce said, Let an Olive establish the Crowne, and let a King restore the Church. Of this dreame or vision he took exceeding great comfort and told it di∣vers of his friends, applying it to the King

his master in part, and some part to him∣selfe. To his Mr. because the Olive, being the Emblem or Hieroglyphick of peace & plenty, seemed to him to allude to King Henry the seventh, who was worthily counted the wisest and most peaceable King in all Europe of that age. To him∣selfe (For the wisest will flatter themselves sometimes) because he was not onely a thiefe Councellor to this King, and had been his Ambassadour to conclude a most honourable peace with Charles the eight, who paid (as Hollinshed writeth) 745. Duckets, besides a yearely tribute of 25000 Crownes, but also he carried both the Olive and King in his name; and therefore thought he was specially designed for this Church work, to the advancement of which he had an extraordinary inclinati∣on. Thus though (as St. Thomas of Aquin well noteth) all dreames be they never so sensible will be found to halt in some part of their coherence; and so perhaps may this: yet most certaine it is, for the time he was so transported with this dreame, that he presently set in hand with this Church (the ruines whereof I rue to behold even in writing these Lines) and at the west end thereof he caused a representation to

be graved of this Vision of the Trinity, the Angels and the Ladder, and on the North side the Olive and Crowne with certaine French words (which I could not read) but in English is this verse taken out of the Booke of Judges chap. 9.

Trees going to chuse their King, Said be to us the Olive King.

All which is so curiously cut and car∣ved, as in the West part of England Is no better worke then in the West end of this poore Church, and to make the credit of all this more authenticke, he added this word to it, De sursum est, it is from high. Thus much the stones and walls (though dumbe witnesses yet credible) doe plainly testifie. But in midst of all this Jollity having made so faire a beginning to his owne great content, and no lesse to the Kings, who came into this country at that time, and lay at the Deane of Wells his house nine dayes; I say in all this joy and comfort, that hapned the Kings Primoge∣nitus, the Noble Prince Arthur, having lately before married a great Infanta of Spaine to depart this life. This so daun∣ted the heart and hopes of this good Bi∣shop,

that he doubted now his Vision would prove but an illusion, that his Oli∣va would be but an Oleaster, which me∣lancholy thoughts were increast in him by the predictions as I touched before of some wizards (to which kind of men that age was much affected) concerning the new Prince who was after Henry the 8^th, of his incest ious marriage, of the decay of his off-spring, that he should pull down what the Kings had builded, which no marvell if the Bishop being by Sirname a King mistrusted to pertaine also to his buildings. I heard by one Flower of Phillips Nortor, who said he saw Henry the seventh in this country, that this Bishop would wish he paid above the price of it, so it might have been finished, for if he ended it not, it would be pulled downe e're it were perfected. As for the later predicti∣ons or rather postfictions (fince this Bi∣shops death) I willingly omit concerning the Successors of this Bishop, as things worthier to be contemned then condem∣ned, written by Cole-prophets upon whi∣ted walls, which the Italian calls the paper of fooles. Muro bianco charta di matio, of which sort many have beene made as well by our owne Country men as others; but

the best I remember was this written by an English gentleman since the three and fortieth yeare of Queen Elizabeth on the Church wall with a Charcole.

O Church I waile thy woofull plight, Whom King nor Cardinal, Clark nor Knight Have yet restored to ancient right.

Subscribed Ignoto.

Whereunto a Captaine of an other Country wrot this for the comfort of this Church, and I wish him to prove a true prophet (though perhaps he dyed rather a Martyr.)

Be blythe faire Kirk when Hempe is past, Thine Olive that ill winds did blast Shall flourish greene for aye to last.

Subscribed Cassadore.

But to proceed in this sad story, and leave this pleasant poetry, to pursue truths and eschue fictions to imbrace reason and refuse rime, it is most apparent that after the death of this Oliver King, his Succes∣sors Cardinall Adrian, Cardinall Wool∣sey, Bishop Clerke, and Bishop Knight, all succeeded in five and thirty yeares, of which the first two were supposed to poy∣son themselves, the third to be poysoned

by others, the last survived to see the death, or at least the deadly wound of this Church; for while the buil∣ders were ready to have finisht it, the destroyers came to demolish it; yet to give the Devill his right (as the Pro∣verb is) it is said that the Commissio∣ners in reverence and compassion of the place, did so far strain their Commission, that they offered to sell the whole Church to the Town under 500 Marks. But the Townsmen fearing they might be thought to couzen the King, if they bought it so cheap, or that it might after (as many things were) be found con∣ceal'd, utterly refused it; whereupon certain Merchants bought all the glasse, Iron, Bells and Lead, of which Lead alone was accounted for (as I have credibly heard) 480 tun, worth at this day 4800!. But what became of these spoiles and spoylers.

Desit in hac miki parte fides, neque credite factum; Aut si credetis facti quoque credite paenam.

For I may well say Non possum quin excla∣mem. But in a word, soonafter the sellers lost their heads, the buyers lost their

goods, being laid up in the great Trea∣sury of Antichrist, I mean drowned in the Sea, from whence (as some write) by the Devills power, he shall recover all lost treasures for the maintaining of his un∣measurable guists. Thus speedily it was pull'd down, but how slow it hath risen again, I may blush to write. Collections have been made over all England, with which the Chancel is covered with blew slate, and an Alms house built ex abun∣dantia, but the whole body of the Church stands bare ex humilitate. The rest of the money never coming to the Townsmens hands, is laid up as I suppose with that money collected for Pauls Steeple, which I leave to a melius inquiren∣dum. And thus the Church lies still like the poor Traveller mentioned in the 10 of Luke, spoiled and wounded by theeves. The Priests go by, the Levites go by, but do nothing. Onely a good Samaritan honest M. Billet, (worthy to be billited in the new Jerusalem) hath powr'd some Qyl in the wounds, and maintained it in life. In so much as a wealthy Citizen of London, hath adventured to set his Tomb there, whom I commend more worthily then the Senate of Rome did thank Karra

at his return from Cannas, quod de salute reipublicae non desperasset; for it seems this honest Citizen did not despair of the reedifying this Church that gave order to be richly entomb'd therein,

and thus much be said of this last Church of Bath.

Bishop Barlow.

The next I am to write of is Bishop Barlow, of whom my Authour in this Book saith little in the Latin Treatise: there is somewhat more, and I will add a word to both. Bath (as I have noted be∣fore) is but a title in this Bishoprick, so as for many years Bath, had the Name, but Wells had the game: but yet that one may know they be Sisters, Your High∣ness shall understand that this game I speak of which was one of the fairest of England, by certein booty play between a Protector and a Bishop (I suppose it was at Tictak) was like to have been lost with a why not, and to use rather another mans word then mine own to explain this Metaphor: thus saith the latine Re∣lation of him. He was a man no less god∣ly then learned, but not so markable in any thing as in his fortunate off-spring,

for which Niobe and Latona might envy them, happy in his own Children, more happy in their Matches (to let passe his Sonnes, of whom one is now Prebend in Wells, and esteemed most worthy of such a Father. He had five Daughters whom he bestowed on five most worthy men, of which three are Bishops at this hour, the other for their merit are in mens ex∣pectation designed to the like dignity hereafter. Howbeit (saith he) in one thing this Prelate is to be deemed unfor∣tunate, that while he was Bishop his Sea received so great a blow losing at one clap, all the Rents and Revenues belong∣ing to it. Thus he, and soon after he tells that for his Mariage, he was deprived, and lived as a man banisht in Germany. Here is his praise, here is his dispraise. If he were deprived for a lawfull Act, no marvel if he be deprived for an unlawful: sith then my Authour compares his feli∣city with that of Niobe, I will also com∣pare his misfortune with Peleus, making Ovids verse to serve my turn in changing but a word or two.

Faelix & Natis faelix & conjuge Barlow, Et cuisi demas: spoliati crimina templi

Omnia contiger ant; hoc tanto crimine sontem accepit profugum patria Germanica tellus.

But God would not suffer this morsell to be quite swallowed, but that it choak∣ed the feeders; to say nothing in this place, but how the Protector was fore∣told by a Poet, that he should lose his head.

Aestatis sedes qui sacras diruis aedes, pro certo credes quod Cephas per dere debes.

I speak now onely of the spoil made under this Bishop scarce were five years past after Baths ruines, but as fast went the Axes and Hammers to work at Wells. The goodly Hall covered with Lead (be∣cause theRoof might seem too low for so large a Room) was uncovered, and now this Roofe reaches to the skie. The Chap∣pel of our Lady late repaired by Stilling∣ton a place of great Reverence and anti∣quity, was likewise defaced, and such was their thirst after Lead (I would they had drunk it scalding) that they took the dead bodies of Bishops out of their leaden Coffins, and cast abroad the Carcases scarce throughly petrified. The Statutes of brasse, and all the ancient Monuments of Kings, benefactors to that goodly Cathedrall Church, went all the same

way, sold as my Authour writes to an Al∣derman of London, who being then rich, and by this great bargain, thinking to have increast it, found it like auruin Tho∣losanum; for he so decayed after, no man knew how, that he brake in his Majoral∣ty. The Statues for Kings were shipt for Bristoll, but disdaining to be banisht out of their own Country, chose rather to lie in St. Georges Channel, where the Ship was drown'd. Let Atheists laugh at such losses, and call them mischances; but all that truly fear God will count them ter∣rible Judgements.

These things were, I will not say done, I will say at least suffered by this Bishop; but I doubt not but he repented hereof, and did pennance also in his banishment in sacco & cinere. But some will say to me, why did he not sue to be restored to his Bishoprick at his return, finding it va∣cant, but rather accepted of Chichester: I have asked this question, and I have re∣ceived this answer, by which I am half perswaded, that Wells also had their pro∣phecies as well as Bath, and that this Bi∣shop was premonstrated (that I may not say predestinate) to give this great wound to this Bishoprick. There remain yet in

the body of Wells Church, about 30 foot high, two eminent Images of stone set there as is thought by bishop Burnel that built the great Hall there in the Raign of Ed: I. but most certainly long before the raign of H. 8. One of these Images is a King crowned, the other is of a Bishop mitred. This King in all proportions resembling H. 8. holdeth in his hand a Child falling, the Bishop hath a Woman and Children about him. Now the old men of Wells had a tradition, that when there should be such a King, and such a Bishop, then the Church should be in danger of ruine. This falling Child they say was King Ed∣ward, the fruitfull Bishop, they affirmed was Doctor Barlow, the first maried Bishop of Wells, and perhaps of England. This talk being rife in Wells in Queen Maries time, made him rather affect Chichester at his return than Wells, where not onely the things that were ruined, but those that remained serv'd for records and re∣membrances of his sacriledge.

Of Bishop Thomas Godwin.

Of Bishop Gilbert Bourn I can add no∣thing, and of the other Gilbert but a word, that he was a good Justicer, as saith the

same Author (nisi quatenus homo uxoris conjugis importunitate impulsus a veri ac recti tramite aberravit) saving that some∣times being ruled by his Wife, by her im∣portunity he swarved from the rule of Justice and sincerity, especially in perse∣cuting the kindred of Bourn his predeces∣sor. The fame went that he dyed very rich, but the same importunate woman caried it all away, that neither Church nor poor were the better for it. But for Doctor God win of whom I am to speak, I must with my Authors leave add a word of mine own knowledge. He came to the place as well qualified for a Bishop as might be unreprovably without Simonie, given to good Hospitality, quiet, kind, affable, a Widdower, and in the Queens very good opinion, Non minor est vir∣tus quam quaerere parta tueri, if he had held on as clear as he entred, I should have highly extold him: but see his misfortune that first lost him the Queens favour, and after forc't him to another mischief. Being as I said, aged, and diseased, and lame of the Gout, he maried (as some thought for opinion of wealth) a Widow of London. A chief favourite of that time (whom I am sory,

to have occasion to name again, in this kind) had labored to get the Mannor of Banwell from this Bishoprick, and dis∣daining the repulse, now hearing this in∣tempestive Mariage, took advantage thereof, caused it to be told the Queen (knowing how much she misliked such matches) and instantly pursued the Bi∣shop with letters and Mandats for the Mannour of Banwell for 100 yeers. The góod Bishop not expecting such a sudden tempest, was greatly perplext, yet a while he held out and indured many sharp Mes∣sages from the Queen, of which my self caried him one, delivered me by my Lord of Leicester, who seemed to fa∣vour the Bishop, and mislike with the Knight for molesting him, but they were soon agreed like Pilat and Herod to con∣demn Christ. Never was harmless man so traduced to his Soveraign, that he had maried a Girle of twenty years old, with a great portion, that he had conveyed half the Bishoprick to her, that (because he had the Gout) he could not stand to his Mariage, with such scoffs to make him ridiculous to the vulgar, and odious to the Queen.

The good Earl of Bedford happening

to be pr̄esent when these tales were told, and knowing the Londoners Widow - the Bishop had maried, said merrily to the Queen after his dry manner, Madam, I know not how much the Woman is a∣bove twenty, but I know a Sonne of hers is but little under forty; but this rather mar'd then mended the matter. One said, Majus peccatum habet. Another told of three sorts of Mariage, of Gods making, as when Adam and Eve two young folks were coupled, of mans making, when one is old, and the other young, as Josephs Mariage, and of the Devills making, when two old folks marry not for comfort, but for covetousness, and such they said was this. The conclusion to the premisses was this, that to pacifie his persecutors, and to save Banwell, he was fain with Wilscombe for 99 yeeres, (I would it had been 100.) and so purchased his peace. Thus the Bi∣shoprick as well as the Bishop were pun∣ished, who wished in his heart he had ne∣ver taken this preferment to foile himself in his decrepid age, with that ftain, that all his life he had abhorred, and to be made an instrument of another mans sacriledge, and used like a leaden Conduit Pipe to convey waters to others

and drinke nothing but the dreggs and drosse and rust it selfe, wherefore right honesty and modesty and no lesse lear∣nedly writes his owne sonne of him in the forenamed Treatise. O illum faelicem si faelix mane••e maluisset, quam Regi ••inis ecclesiastici labo is tum susciper, cum labo∣ribus i••par fractus senio necessu n illi fuerit aliorum uti auxilio, &c. O happy he if he would rather have remained happy (where he was) then to undergoe the la∣bours of Ecclesiasticall government when he grew unable to travell, broken with age constrained to use the helpe of others, who though their duty required a care of so good a natur'd old man, yet they pro∣ving as most do negligent of others good, and too greedy of their owne, overthrew both; For my part, though I loved him well and some of his, yet in this case I can make no other apology for him, nor use no other plea in his defence but such as able debtors doe, that when they are sued upon just occasions plead per minas, or ra∣ther to liken him to an husband-man, that dwelling neare a Judge that was a great Builder, and comming one day a∣mong divers other Neighbours with car∣riages, some of Stone, some Tin: The

Steward, as the manner of the Country was, provided two Tables for their Din∣ners, for those that came upon request, Powdered Beefe and perhaps Venison, for those that came for hire, Poor-John and Apple Pies, and having envited them to fit downe in his Lordships name, telling them one boord was for them that came in Love, the other for those that came for Money, this husband-man and his Hind sate not downe at either, the which the Steward imputing to simplicity repeated his former words again, praying them to sit downe accordingly, but he answered (for there is craft in the clouted Shooe) he saw no Table for him, for he came nei∣ther for love nor mony, but for very feare; and even so I dare answer for this Bishop, he neither gave Wilscombe for love, nor sold it for money, but left it for fear.

How strangely he was intrapt in the unfit marriage: I know not if it may be called a marriage.

Non Hymenaeus adest illi, non gratia lecto.

Himselfe protested to me with Teares in his eyes, he tooke her but for a guid of his house, and for the rest (they were his own words) he lived with her as Joseph

did with our Lady. Setting this one dis∣grace of his aside he was a man very well esteemed in the Country beloved of all men for his great hospitality, of the better sort for his kinde entertainment and plea∣sant discourse at his Table, his reading had beene much, his Judgement and Dc∣ctrine sound, his government mild and not violent, his minde charitable, and therefore, I doubt not but when he lost this life he wonne heaven according to his word, Win God, win all. This I say truly of him which his Son was not so fit to say for feare perhaps of the foolish saying, yet wise enough if it be well understood. Nemo laud at patrem nisi improbus filius.

Doctor John Still.

But what stile shall I use to set forth this still, whom well nigh thirty yeares since my reverent Tutor in Cambridge stil'd by this name Divine Still, who when my selfe came to him to sue for my grace to be Batchelour, first he examined me stricktly, and after answered me kindly; that the grace he granted me was not of grace, but of merit, who was often con∣tent

to grace my young exercises with his Venerable presence, who from that time to this hath given me some helpes, more hopes, all encouragements in my best stu∣dies. To whom I never came but I grew more religious, from whom I never went but I parted better instructed. Of him therefore my acquaintance, my friend, my instructor, and lastly my Diocaesan, if I speake much, it were not to be marvel∣led, if I speake franckly, it is not to be blam̄ed, and though I speake partially it were to be pardoned, yet to keep within my proportion, custome, and promise, in all these I must say this of him, his bree∣ding was from his childhood in good li∣terature, and partly in Musick, which was counted in those dayes a preparative to Divinity, neither could any be admitted to primam tonsuram, except he could first bene le bene con bene can, as they called it, which is to read well, to conster well, and to sing well, in which last he hath good Judgement and I have heard good mu∣sick of voyces in his house. In his full time more full of Learning, he became Batche∣lor of Divinity, and after Doctor, and so famous for a Preacher, and especially a disputer, that the learned'st were even a∣fraid

to dispute with him, and he finding his own strength could not stick to warne them in their Arguments to take heed to their answers, like a perfect Fencer that will tell aforehand in which button he will give the venew, or like a cunning Ches-player tha will appoint aforehand with which pawne and in what place he will give the mate; and not to insist long in a matter so notorious, it may suffice that about twenty yeares since when the great Dyet or meeting should have beene in Germany for composing matters in Re∣ligion, Doctor Still was chosen for Cam∣bridge, and Doctor Humphrey for Oxford, to oppose all commers for the defence of the English Church, for this his knowne sufficiency he was not long unfurnish't of double honour. The Puritans in Cam∣bridge wooed him, and would fain have wonne him to their part; and seeing they could not, they forbare not in the Pulpit after their fashion to glaunce at him a∣mong others with their equivocations and epigrams. There was one Mr. Kay that offended them, and one said in a Ser∣mon, that of all complexions the worst neare such as were Kay-cold, and in the same Sermon and the like veine he said

that some could not be contented with a Living worth 100 l. a year, another worth 120 l. but Still will have more. But how∣soever they snarl'd, this Still was counted worthy of more, so as in the year 1592. being the 34 of the late Queen he was pre∣fer'd to this Sea after it had bin vacant wel nigh three years; during the vacancy I can well remember there was great enqui∣ring who should have it, and as if all Bi∣shops should now be sworn to follow usum Sarum, every man made reckoning that the Mannour house and Park of Bamvell should be made a reward of some Cour∣tier, it encreast also this suspition that Sir Thomas: Hennage an old Courtier, and a zealous Puritan was said to have an ore in the matter, whose conscience, if it were such in the Clergy, as that was found in the Dutchy, might well have disgested a better Booty then Banwell. But when it was notified once who was named to it, I had better conceit, and straight I wrot to him as of old Cambridge acquaintance, and in such rusty Latin as I had left, gave him warning of this rumour, which he tooke exceeding kindly at my hands, though some others frowned on me for it many months after. So that for his en∣try

to it I may boldly say that I said be∣fore of his Predecessor, that he came cleer∣ly to it without any touch or scandall, that he brought a good report from the places where he had lived, shewed him∣selfe well natured and courteous to the kindred of his Predecessor, had a farre greater fame of Learning and Merit, and which the Queen liked best of all, was sin∣gle and a widdower. Nay I may com∣pare them yet further, he married also soone after he was setled, and the Queene was nothing well pleased with his mar∣riage. Howbeit in all indifferent censures this marriage was much more justifiable then the other for age, for use, for end; he being not too old, nor she too young, be∣ing daughter to a worshipfull Knight of the same Country and a great House-kee∣per, and drawing with her a kinde of alli∣ance with Judge Popham that swayed all the temporall government of the Coun∣try. These respects though I will not strive greatly to praise in a Bishop, yet the com∣mon sort will allow no doubt for wise and provident, so as the Queenes displea∣sure (your times being somewhat more propitious and favourable to Bishopricks since Bishop Wickbams Sermon) was the

easier pacified without so costly sacrifice as a whole Mannour, and she contented her selfe onely to breake a jest upon the name of the Bishop, saying to Sir Henry Barckley, it was a dangerous name for a Bishop to match with a Horner. Since which time he hath preached before her more then once, and hath received good Testimonies of her good opinion, and God hath also blest him many wayes very greatly to see his children well brought up, well bestowed, and to have an unex∣pected Revenue, out of the Entralls of the Earth (I mean the Leaden Mines of Men∣dip greater then his Predecessor had above ground, so as this Bishop seemes to be blest with Josephs blessing, Benedictionibus caeli sur sum, benedictionibus Abyssi ja∣centis deorsum, benedictionibus uberis & vulvae, with blessing from heaven above, blessing from the deepe that ly∣eth beneath, blessings of the breasts and of the wombe, which fortunate in∣crease of living hapning to a provident Man that was ever Homo frugi, it is sup∣posed hath brought him to a great abili∣ty. In so much that his Church of Bath seemes to conceive some hope that he will have have compassion of her ruines

at the least (as Sir Arthur Hopton a good Knight of the Bath was wont between ear∣nest and sport to motion unto him to give toward it, but the Lead to cover it which would cost him nothing, but he would reply againe, well said gentle Sir Arthur, you will coffe me as you scoffe me, which is no great token that he liketh the moti∣on. Yet at his being at Bath he promised them very faire, which they are bound to rem ember to remember him of sometime by their friends. One trifling accident hapned to his Lordship there that I have thought of more consequence, & I tell him that I never knew him Non plust in Ar∣gument but there. There was a crafts man of Bath a Recusant Puritan who condem∣ning our Church, our Bishops, our Sacra∣ments, our Prayers, was condemned him∣selse to dye at the Assizes, but at my request Judge Adderton reprieved him, and he was suffered to remain at Bath upon Baile The Bishop confer'd with him in hope to convert him, and first my Lord alledged for the authority of the Church St. Augu∣stine; the Shoomaker answered Austin was but a man, he produced for antiquity of Bishops the fathers of the Councell of Nice, he answered, they were also but men

and might erre; why then said the Bishop thou are but a man and mayest and doest erre. No Sir, saith he, the spirit beares witnesse to my spirit I am the child of God; Alasse saith the Bishop thy blinde spirit will lead thee to the Gallowes: If I dye saith he in the Lords cause I shall be a Martyr. The Bishop turning to me stirr'd as much to pitty as impatience; This man said he is not a sheepe strayed from the Fold, for such may be brought in a∣gaine on the Shepheards shoulders, but this is like a wild Buck broken out of a Parke, whose pale is throwne downe, that flies the farther off the more he is hunted. Yet this man that stopt his eares like the Adder to the charmes of the Bishop, was after perswaded by a Lay-man and grew comfortable; but to draw to an end (in one question) this Bishop whom I count an oracle for learning would never yet give me satisfaction, and that was when I askt him his opinion of witches. He saith, he knowes other mens opinions both old and new writers, but could never so di∣gest them, to make them an opinion of his owne. All I can get is this, that the Divel is the old Serpent, our enemy that we pray to be delivered from daily; as wil∣ling

to have us thinke he can doe so much as to have us perswaded he doth nothing. To conclude of this Bishop without flat∣tery I hold him a rare man for preaching for arguing, for learning, for living; I could onely with that in all these he would make lesse use of Logick and more of Rhetorick.

Of EXETER.

Doctor William Cotton.

WHen I reflect my thoughts and eye upon that I have written for∣merly, and see that I am like to equall or rather exceed my Author in quantity of Volume, taking the proportion of the longest Kings raigne to that of Queen Elizabeth, I am the lesse trou∣bled to thinke, that for lack of suffi∣cient intelligence, I shall be constrained to doe as he also hath done with divers of those former Bishops, namely, to ob∣scure and omit the good deserts of some, and to conceale and hide the demerits of others, which if I fortune to doe, yet will I neither crave pardon of the one, nor

thanks of the other, being to be excused of both by an invincible ignorànce. How∣beit, if in these I have or shall treat of, I have been so plain and liberall, as there∣by I may move the spleen of some Bishop to write against me, as Bishop Jovius did against Petro Aretino, whom notwithstan∣ding some Italians call Unico & divino, whose Epitaph Paulus Jovius made thus, the man being long after alive.

Qui giace l' Aretino l' amoro Tosco, Che besthemia ognivno fuor che dio, Scusandoi con ill dire non lo cognosco.

Which one did thus put into English:

Here lies Aretine, that poysonous Toad, Whose spightful Tongue & Pen (all Saints beshrew him) Did raile on Priest and Prince, and all but God, And said (for his excuse) I doe not know him.

I say, if any should follow this humour of Jovius, yet shall he not thereby put me into the humour of Aretine, that answe∣red him. For I reverence all their places, and many of their persons. I know how high their calling is, that may say, pro Christo legatione fungimur. I know that next to Kings, Bishops are most sacred persons, and as it were Gods on earth;

howbeit also some of them have the im∣perfections of men, and those not preju∣diciall to the acts of their office. For my part, I would I could speak much good of all, and no ill of any, and say (for mine excuse) I doe not know them.

Accordingly of the Bishoprick and Bishop of Exceter, I can say but little, namely, that it is since Bishop Harmans time (as my Author noted, pag. 337.) re∣duced to a good mediocrity, from one of the best Bishopricks of England; so as now it is rather worthy of pitty then envy, having but two Mannors left of two and twenty; and I will adde thus much to your Highnesse, that as in pub∣lique respect, your Highnesse should spe∣cially favour this Bishop, in whose Dio∣cesse your Dutchy of Cornwall, and your Stanneries are; so the Duke may uphold the Bishop, and the reverend Bishop may blesse the Duke.

Of NORWICH.

Concerning Norwich, whether it be the praise of the Bishops, or the people, or both, I know not, or whether I have here a partiall relation. But by that I have heard, I shall judge this city to be ano∣ther Utopia: The people live all so or∣derly, the streets kept solemnly; the Trades-men, young and old, so industri∣ous; the better sort so provident, and withall so charitable: that it is as rare to meet a begger there, as it is common to see them in Westminster. For the four Bishops that were in Queen Elizabeths time, I know nothing in particular, but that they lived as Bishops should doe, Sine querela, and were not warriours, like Bishop Spencer their predecessor in Henry the fourths time; nor had such store of Gold and Silver, as he had that could leavy an Army. But for the present Bi∣shop, I knew him but few yeeres since Vicechancellor of Cambridge; and I am sure he had as good Latine as any of his Predecessors had, and accounted there a

perfect Divine; in both which respects he is to be thought very fit for the place, being a Maritine Town, and much fre∣quented with strangers, very devoutly given in Religion, and perhaps under∣stands Latine as well as English.

WORCESTER.

Doctor Gervase Babington.

WOrcester hath been fortunate in this last age to many excellent Bishops; of which but two in an hun∣dred yeeres have died Bishops thereof, the rest having been removed. Also in lesse then fourteen yeeres that had one Bishop became Pope, namely Clement the seventh; another that was a Protestant, as Hugh Ladymer. Of the seven therefore that were in Queen Elizabeths time, I shall in this place speak but of one, and that is him now living, who by birth is a Gen∣man of a very good house; for Learning inferiour to few of his rank. Hee was sometime Chaplaine to the late Earle of Pembrooke, whose Noble Countesse used this her Chaplaines advice, I suppose, for

the translation of the Psalmes; for it was more then a womans skill to expresse the sence so right as she hath done in her verse, and more then the English or La∣tine translation could give her. They first were means to place him in Landaffe, neere them; where he would say merrily his true Title should be Aff, for all the Land was gone thence. He came back over the Sea to the Sea of Exeter, and thence on terra firma to Worcester; a place where both the Church and Town are at this day in very flourishing estate, and the Church especially in good Repa∣rations, which I take ever for one good argument of a good Bishop; for where the sheep be ragged, and the folds rot∣ten, there I straight suppose is no very good shepheard: yet, as every generall Rule, hath commonly some exceptions, so hath this in some places in England, and many more in Wales, of which I shall in their due place note somewhat in the insuing Treatise. And thus much of Wor∣cester.

Of HEREFORD.

John Scory.

OF this twice Bishop Scory I have heard but little, yet it hath been my fortune to read something that will not be amisse to acquaint your Highnesse with, that you may see how Satan doth sift the lives and doings of English Bishops with the Quills sometimes of strangers and Forraigners. For whereas this our English modest writer onely reports how he was first Bi∣shop of Chicester, being but Batchelour; of Divinity, and deprived for no fault but that he continued not a Batchelor where∣upon he fled for Religion (as the phrase was) till comming home in the yeare 1560 he was preferred to Hereford: the French writer stayeth not there, but tel∣leth how that being setled there, though he professed to be a great enemy to I∣dolatry, yet in another sence according to St. Paul, he became a worshipper of Images (not Saints but Angels) belike he feared some future tempest, and therefore ••his h•• to provide better for himselfe

then he had at Chichester, so as what with pulling downe houses and selling the Lead, and such loose ends, what with setting up good husbandries, what with Leases to his Tenants, with all manner of viis et modis, he heaped together a great Masse of wealth. He that hath store of mettle must have also some drosse, and no marvaile if this Bishop then according to his name had much Scoria with this Treasure. A Noble and Honourable coun∣cellour and thenLord President of Wales, hearing so frequent complaints made of him for oppressions, extortions, symonies, and the like, caused a bil to preferred into the Star-chamber against him; in which bill was contained such matter as was e∣nough not onely to disgrace him, but to degrade him if it had been accordingly followed. His Sollicitour of his causes brings him a Copy of the bill, and in reading it with him seemed not a little dismaid in his behalfe much, like to the servant of Elisha that came trembling to his Master, and told him how they were beleagred with a huge Army. But this Bi∣shop though not indewed with the spirit of a Prophet, yet having a spirit that could well see into his profit, bids his Sollici∣tour

(who was his kinsman, perhaps his sisters brothers sonne) to be of good com∣fort; adding it may be the very words of Elisha, for there are more of our side then a∣gainst us. But when his Gehezi (for the comparison suits better to the man then to the Master) could see as yet no comfor∣table vision; The good Bishop did not open his eyes to let him see as Elisha did the Chariots of fire on the tops of the mountaines: but he opened his own bags and shewed him some legions or rather chiliads of Angells, who entring all at once, not into a herd of Swine, but into the hoard of a Lady that then was potent with him that was Dominus fac totum, cast such a Cloud into the Star-chamber, that the bill was never openly heard of after. This or the like and much more to the like effect writes this French Author of the said Bishop of Hereford, though the Treatise it selfe was not specially meant against the Bishop, but against a temporall Lord of a higher ranck that was not a lit∣tle netled with the same. In so much as many travelling Gentlemen, and among other this Bishops son was called in que∣stion for the publishing of this booke, be∣like because some particularities of this

matter were discovered that could come from none but him. But to come againe to this Bishop; I hope it shall be no just scandall to other good Bishops, Judas will have Successors as well as James, and Simon Magus as well as Simon Peter (and sometime perhaps both in one chaire. This man indeed had been brought up in the age of the Fryars that made much of themselves, and relinquisht their Cels, that read in the old Testament laetare & fac, but left out bonum; for so he followed the Text in the New Testament, Make you friends of the wicked Mammon, but left out that part that should have brought him to everlasting Tabernacles. For if Gods mercy be not the greater, I feare his friend and he are met in no plea∣sant mansion, though too too durable, if the vision of Henry Lord Hunsdon were true, as an honest Gentleman hath often reported it. But all this notwithstanding, his posterity may doe well, for God him∣selfe forbids men to say, That the fathers eate soure grapes, and the childrens teeth be on edge; and if the worst be, the Eng∣lish Proverb may comfort them, which, lest it want reason, I will cite in rime.

It is a saying common, more then civill, The son is blest, whose sire is with the divel.

After his decease a great and long suit was held against him about his dilapida∣sions, which makes the former report to eem the moreprbable.

Doctor Herbert Westphaling.

There succeeded him a learned & famous Doctor indeed, Dr. Westphaling, who after he had been a Bishop divers yeeres, yet to showe that good Bishops do not quite discontinue their studies, but rather in∣crease their knowledge with their digni∣ty, came to Oxford at her Majesties last being there, and made an eloquent and copious Oration before her, for conclusi∣on of the Divinity disputations: among which one speciall question, that bred much attention, was this, whether it be lawfull to dissemble in cause of Reli∣gion? and one Argument more witty then pithy, produced by an opponent was this, it is lawfull to dispute of Religion, therefore it is lawfull to dissemble, and urging it further, he said thus, I my self now do that which is lawfull, but I do now dissemble. Ergo, it is lawfull to dissemble; at which her Majesty, and all the Auditory were very merry, I could

make a rehearsall of some of the Bishops oration concerning this question, how he allowed a secrecy, but without dissimula∣tion, a policy but not without piety, least men taking too much of theSerpent, have too little of the Dove, but I am sure in all his speech he allowed no equivocation. Howbeit, if I should-insist long hereon, I might commit the same fault to your Highness, that the Queen at that time found in him, which was that she thought him too tedious. For she had sent twice to him to cut short his Oration, because her self went to make a publique speech that evening, but he would not, or as some told her, could not put himself out of a set methodicall speech, for fear he should have marr'd it all, and perhaps confounded his memory. Wherefore she forbare her speech that day, and more privately the next morning, sending for the heads of Houses, and a few others she spake to them in Latin, and among o∣there she school'd Doctor Reynolds, for his preciseness, willing him to follow her Laws, and not to run before them. But it seemed he had forgotten it when he came last to Hampton Court, so as there he re∣ceived a better schooling. I may not for∣get

how the Queen in the midst of her o∣ration, casting her eye aside, and seeing the old Lord, Treasur er Burleigh standing on his lame feet for want of a stool, she call'd in all hast for a stool for him, nor would she proceed in her speech till she saw him provided of one, then fell she to it again, as if there had been no interrup∣tion: upon which one that might be so bold with her, told her after, that she did it of purpose to showe that she could in∣terrupt her speech, and not be put out, although the Bishop durst not adventure to do a less matter the day before.

But this Bishop was every way a very sufficient man, and for such esteemed while he was of Christ-Church. Trifling accidents showe as good proof of times, as the waightiest occasions. Such a one hapned this Doctor while he was of the University as a Scholar of that time hath told me, and it was this. There had been a very sharp frost (such as have been ma∣ny this year, and a sudden rain or sleet falling with it from the South-East, had as it were candied all that side of the Steeple at Christ-church, with an ice mix∣ed with snow, which with the warmth of the Sun soon after 10. of the clock be∣gan

to resolve, and Doctor Westphaling being in the middle of his Sermon, it fell down altogether upon the Leads of the Church, with such a noyse, as if indeed it would have thrown down the whole Church. The people (as in sudden ter∣rors is usuall) fill'd all with tumult, and each man hasted to be gonē so fast that they hindered one another. He first kneel∣ing down, and recommending himself to God, as in the apprehension of a sodain danger, straight rose again, and with so chearfull, both voice and countenance, encouraged them as they all returned, and he quietly finished his Sermon. But his chief praise I reserve for the last, which was this; for all such benefices as either were in his own guift, or fell into his hand by Lapse, which were not few, and some of great value, he neither respected Letters nor commendations of Lords nor Knights, nor Wife nor friends in prefer∣ment of any man, but onely their suffici∣ency and their good conversation, so as to sue for a benefice unto him, was rather a means to miss then to attain it.

Doctor Robert Bennet.

This Bishop was preferr'd to this place since my Authour wrote his Catalogue, so as he is not therein specified; yet must I not do him that wrong to omit in this relation. This is he (if your Highness do remember it) of whom his Majesty said, if he were to chuse a Bishop by the aspect, he would chuse him of all the men he had seen, for a grave reverent and pleasing countenance. Concurring here∣in in a sort, though by contraries with the judgement of Henry the foūrth Em∣perour, who comming from hunting one day (as Malmesbury writeth) went for de∣votion sake into a Church, where a very ill-favoured faced Priest was at service. The Emperour thinking his virtues suted his visage, said to himself, how can God like of so ugly a fellows service. But it fortuned at that instant, the Priests boy mumbling of that versicle in the hundred Psalm, Ipso nos fecit & non ipsi nos, and because he pronounced it not plainly, the Priest reproved him, and repeated it a∣gain, aloud, Ipse nos fecit & non ipsi nos, which the Emperour applying to his own

Cogitation, thought the Priest to have some prophetical spirit, & fromthat time forward esteemed him greatly, and made him a Bishop. Thus that Bishop, though he could not set so good a face on it, yet perhaps he got as good a Bishoprick. But to come to our Bishop whom my self knew in Cambridge, a Master of Art, and a proper active man, and plaid well at Tennis; and after that, when he came to be Batchellor of Divinity, he would tosse an Argument in the Schools, better then a Ball in the Tennis-court. A grave Doctor yet living, and his ancient allu∣ding to his Name in their disputation, called him Erudite Benedicte, and gave him for his outward, as well as inward Ornaments great commendation. He be∣came after Chaplain to the Lord Treasu∣rer Burleigh, who was very curious, and no lesse fortunate in the choyce of his Chaplains, and they no lesse happy in the choyce of their Patron, as Mr. Day after Bishop of Winchester, the Bishop I now speak of Doctor Neale now Dean of West∣minster, and divers others.

Chichester.

I Finde in former ages many unlearned and unfit men, by favour recommend∣ed to Bishopricks, but of a man recom∣mended by the King, and refused by the Clergy, onely for his want of Learning, I think there is but one Example, and that was one Robert Paslew in the time of Hen. 3. which Prince is no less to be com∣mended for admitting the refusall, then they for refusing; but yet in speaking of learned Bishops, this Church may say their last have been their best. Doctor Watson your Highness can remember his Majesties Almoner, he was a very good Preacher, preferred by the Queen first, to the Deanry of Bristol, where he was well beloved; and after to Chichester, where he was more honoured, if not more be∣loved, for the course of his life, and cause of his death, I might in some sort com∣pare him to Bishop Vaughan, late of Lon∣don, he grew somewhat corpulent, and having been sick, and but newly recover∣ed,

adventured to travel to wait in his place, and so by recidivation he dyed.

Doctor Andrews.

His Majesty having a great desire to prefer Doctor Andrews, then Dean of Westminster, made speciall choyce of him to succeed him as well in the Bishoprick as the Aumnership, and I suppose if Hen. the 3d his Chaplain had been so good a Schollar, he had not been refused for his Learning. This Bishop your Highness knoweth so well, and have heard him so oft, as it may be you think it needless to hear more of him. But I will be bold to say your Highness doth but half know him, for the vertues that are not seen in him, are more and greater then those that are seen, I will therefore play the blab so far, that your Higlmess may know him better. He was born in London, and train∣ed up in the School of that famous Mul∣caster, and for the speciall towardness was found in him in very young yeares, he was not onely favoured, but had libe∣rall exhibition given him by a great Councellor of those times, as I shall note hereafter. The course of his study was

not as most mens are in these times, to get a little superficiall fight in Divinity, by reading two or three of the new wri∣ters, and straight take Orders, and up in∣to the Pulpit. Of which kind of men a Reverent Bishop yet living said as proper∣ly as pleasantly, when one told of a young man that preached twice every Lords day, beside some exercising in the Week dayes, it may be (saith he) he doth talk so often, but I doubt he doth not preach. And to the like effect the late Queen said to the same Bishop, when she had on the Fryday heard one of those talking Preachers much commended to her by some body, and the Sunday after heard a well labour'd Sermon that smelt on the Candle, I pray said the, let me have your bosom Sermons, rather then your lip-Sermons; for when the Preacher takes pains, the Auditor takes profit. But to come to Doctor Andrews that gathered before he did spend, reading both new Writers and old Writers, not as tasting but as disgesting them, and finding ac∣cording to our Saviours saying. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 the old to be more profita∣ble, at last his sufficiency could be no longer conceal'd. But as an industrious

Marchant that secretly and diligently follows his Trade with small showe, till his wealth being grown so great, it can be no longer hidden, is then call'd on for Subsidies and Loans, and publique services: so did this mans excellencies suddenly break forth. His Patron that studied projects of policy, as much as precepts of piety, hearing of his fame, and meaning to make use thereof, sent for him (as I have credibly heard) and dealt earnestly with him, to hold up a side that was even then falling, and to maintain certain state points of Puritanisme. But he had too much of the 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 in him to be scar'd with a Councellors frown, or blown aside with his breath, answered him plainly, they were not onely against his Learning, but his Conscience. The Councellor seeing this man would be no Fryer Pinhie (to be taught in a Closet what he should say at Pauls) dismist him with some disdain for the time; but afterward did the more reverence his in∣tegrity and honesty, and became no hin∣derer to his ensuing preferments. Of these one was a Prebend in Pauls, belonging to him, they call the Confessor or Confessi∣oner, a place notoriously abused in time

of Popery by their tyranny and superstiti∣tion; but now of late by a contrary ex∣tream too much forgotten and neglected: while he held this place, his manner was, especially in Lent time, to walk duly at certain hours, in one of the Iles of the Church, that if any came to him for spi∣rituall advice and comfort, as some did, though not many, he might impart it to them. This Custom being agreeable to Scripture, and Fathers, expressed and re∣quired in a sort in the Communion Book, not repugning the 39 Articles, and no lesse approved by Calvin in his Instituti∣ons, yet was quarrel'd with by divers (upon occasion of some Sermons of his) as a point of Popery. The like scandall was taken of some, though not given by him, for his reverent speaking of the highest Mystery of our Faith and heaven∣ly food the Lords Supper, which some are so stiffe in their knees, or rather in their hearts, that they hold it Idolarry to receive that kneeling. But whatsoever such barked at, he ever kept one tenor of life and Doctrine Exemplar and unre∣proveable.

Two speciall things I have observed in his Preaching, that I may not omit to

speak of. One to raise a joynt reverence to God and the Prince, to spirituall and civill Magistrate, by uniting and not severing them.

The other to lead to amendment of Life, and to good works, the fruits of true Repentance.

Of the first kind, he made a Sermon before the Queen long since, which was most famous of this Text. Thou leddest thy people like Sheep by the hands of Moses and Aaron. Which Sermon, (though courteous ears are commonly so open, as it goes in at one ear, and out at the o∣ther) yet it left an Aculeus behind in ma∣ny of all sorts. And Henry Noel one of the greatest Gallants of those times, sware as he was a Gentleman, he never heard man speak with such a spirit. And the like to this was his Sermon before the King, of two silver Trumpets to be made of one peece. Of the second kind I may say all his Sermons are, but I will menti∣tion but his last, that I heard the fifth of the last November, which Sermon I could wish ever to read upon that day. When the Lord turned the Captivity of Sion, &c. And I never saw his Majesty more sweet∣ly affected with any Sermon then with

that. But to conclude, I perswade my self, that whensoever it shall please God to give the King means, with consent of his confederate Princes to make that great peace which his blessed word Beati Paci∣fici seemeth to promise, I mean the end∣ing of this great Schisme in the Church of God, procured as much by ambition, as by superstition; This reverent Pre∣late will be found one of the ablest, not of England onely, but of Europe, to set the course for composing the controver∣sies, which I speak not to add reputation to his sufficiency by my judgement; but rather to win credit to my judgement by his sufficiency. And whereas I know some that have known him so long as I have, yet have heard and believe no lesse of his Learning then I speak, find fault that he is not so apt to deliver his resolu∣tion upon every question moved as they could wish, who if they be not quickly resolved of that they aske, will quickly resolve not to care for it. I say this Cunctation is the mean between Preci∣pitation and Procrastination, and is spe∣cially commended by the Apostle St. James, as I have heard him alledge it, Sit omnis homo 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 tar∣dus

ad loquendum, tardus ad iram.

Rochester.

Doctor Barlow.

THis Bishoprick having been noted in Hen. the 3^d his time, to have been one of the poorest of England, hath I suppose the less been impoverished in the spoyling times. The grand spoylers being of the mind of some Taylors, that when their allowance of stuffe was most scant, they would make the Garment the Larger. ThisCity in these last 100 years, hath had 14 Bishops, of which one was a Cardi∣nall, two were Arch-Bishops, and I take it but one hath dyed Bishop, and that was the last before this whose Name was Young, but lived to be very old, and desi∣red not to remove. His Successor Doctor Bar low is one of they oungest in age, but one of the ripest in learning of all his pre∣decessors, since Bishop Fisher that had ill luck with his learning, to die upon Tower-Hill. There are so many printed testimo∣nies of his sufficiency, as I need say the lesse of it; but it is like he shall not abide

there long. Of all his Sermons he preach∣ed before Queen Elizabeth, which were many, and very good. One that she liked exceedingly was of the Plough, of which she said, Barlows Text might seem taken from the Cart, but his talk may teach you all in the Court. He made a Sermon not long after that at Pauls, which man, e∣specially Puritans, did much mislike, and for that cause call it (alledging to his name) the Barley Loaf, not marking how much honour they give it in their scorn, by example, both of the old Testament and new. In the old Testament, the Bar∣ley Loaf signified Gedeons sword, ordain∣ed to destroy the wicked. In the new, by the blessing of our Saviour, that fed more thousands of honest men then this offend∣ed.

Of OXENFORD.

Doctor Underhill.

FRom Rochester I should go a long pil∣grimage to St. Davids in Wales, save I must bait a little out of my way at four new Bishopricks erected by King Henry

the eighth of famous memory, and therefore I hope not ordained to be dis∣solved of a Henry the ninth of future and fortunate expectation; I say I will but bait especially at Oxford, lest I be baited, if I stay too long, for I know this dis∣course is to some as Unguis in ulcere. This Bishoprick being but 66 yeers since erected, had two Bishops in 26 yeeres, and then continued voyd 21. yeeres, what time of pure devotion to the Leases that would yield good Fines, a great person recommended Doctor Underhill to this place, perswading him to take it, as in the way to a better; but God knowes it was out of his way every way. For ere his First Fruits were paid, he died (as I heard at Greenwich, in much discontent and poverty; yet his preferrer to seem to doe some favour to the University of Oxford, for recompence of the spoyle done on the Bishoprick of Oxford, erected a new solemne lecture there at his own charge, which Doctor Reynolds did read, at which Lecture I hapned, once to be present with the Founder, where we were taught, Nihil & non,. as elsewhere I have at large shewed to your Highnesse. But though the many-headed beast, the mul∣titude

was bleared with this bounty; yet the Schollers that were more Nasuti, ocu∣lati & Cordati, did smell, and see, and say, that this was but to steale a goose, and stick a feather. And indeed this was the true Theorique and Practique of Puri∣tanisme. One impugning the authority of Bishops secretly, by such Lectures; the other impoverishing their Livings openly by such Leases.

After the Bishop Underhill was laid under the earth, I think the Sea of Oxford would have been drowned in the Sea of Oblivion, if his Majesty, whose soule ab∣hors all sacriledge had not supplied it with the good Father that now holdeth it, Doctor John Bridges, a man whose Volumes in Prose and Verse give suffici∣end testimony of his industry, though for mine own part I am grown an unfit praiser of Poetry, having taken such a surfeit of it in my youth, that I think now, a gray head and a verse doe not agree together, and much lesse a grave matter, and a verse. For the reputation of Poetry is so altered by the iniquity of the times, that whereas it was wont to make simple folke believe some things that were false, now it makes our great

wise men to doubt of things that be true. When the Creed was first put into Eng∣lish verse, as it is now sung in the Church, the descending of Christ into Hell, was never questioned, but since it hath been sung 50 yeere or more,

His Spirit did after this descend into the lower parts To them that long in darknesse were, the true light of our hearts.

The doubt that was made of the latter of these two verses, hath caused the truth of the former to be called in question.

Wherefore though I grant that Psalms and Hymns may, and perhaps ought to be in verse as good Linguists affirme, Moses and Davids Psalms to be originally, yet I am almost of opinion that one ought to abjure all Poetry when he comes to Divi∣nity. But not derogating herein from the travels of my betters and the Judge∣ment of mine Elders I proceed or rather post to my next stage.

OF GLOCESTER.

Dr. Thomson.

AT Glocester I shall at this time make a very short bait, the last Bishop there∣of being but lately removed to London, and the present Bishop scant yet warme in his seat; yet this I must say, that I have heard some students of good judgement that knew him in Oxford affirme, that in his very young yeares he gave a great hope and good presage of his future excellency, having a rare gift ex tempore in all his Schoole exercises, and such a happy wit to make use of all occurrents to his purpose, as if he had not taken the occasions, as they fell out by accident, but rather bespo∣ken such pretty accidents to fall out to give him the occasions. I have often heard him before Queen Elizabeth, and it was not possible to deliver sounder matter nor with better method, for which cause he was greatly respected and reverenced at the Court. But for his latter Sermon before the two most magnificent Kings, your Highnesse Father and Unckle, I can∣not

praise him; no, for I am a Cambridge man, but I can envy him, that in two judgements, omni exceptione majoribus▪ did carry the commendation of the pure Latine Language (peculiar as I thought unto Cambridge) to her younger sister of Oxford; and thus much for him whose vertues no doubt will give matter for some further Relation under some other title hereafter.

Of PETERBOROUGH.

Dr. Thomas Dove.

I should doe both this worthy Prelate and my selfe much wrong, if I should not commend him for many good parts, being one whom I have long known to have been greatly respected and favoured by the late Queen; and no lesse liked and approved in the more learned judgement of his Majesty. How beit the ground on which I would build his chiefe praise (to some of the Aristarchy and sowre censures of these daies, requires first an Apologie. For I remember that even in Cambridge, about twenty five yeers since,

and I am sure he remembers it too) a que∣stion arose among the Divines scarce fit for the Schooles, lesse fit for the Pulpit, yet was it both handled and determined in the Pulpit, whether Rhetoricall Fi∣gures and Tropes, and other artificiall ornaments of speech taken from pro∣phane authors, as sentences, adages, and such like, might be used in Sermons, and not rather the plaine naked truth delive∣red out of the word of God. The precise fort, that would have the Word, and Church and all goe naked, saving some Apron perhaps of Fig-leaves, were not onely earnest but bitter against the use of all such humane, or (as they call them) prophane helps, calling them paintings fitter for Strumpets, then for chaste Ma∣trons. But the graver and more Ortho∣dox were of the other opinion, and namely my learned Tutor Doctor Flem∣ning, by appointment of the heads of the Colledges in an excellent Sermon deter∣mined the controversie. That seeing now the extraordinary gift, first of tongues, then of miracles was ceased, and that knowledge is not now Infusa but Acqui∣sita, we should not despise the helpe of any humane learning, as neither St. Paul

did, who used the sentences of Poets, and hath many excellent Tropes, with exaggerations and exclamations in his Epistles; for chastity doth not abhor all ornaments, for Judeth did attire her head as curiously as Jesabel, &c.

About twelve yeeres after this, the very same question in the same manner was canvased at Oxford, and determined in the Pulpit by Dr. House against Doctor Reynolds, who held the other opinion. But upon occasion of this Sermon, at which my brother (that had been his scholler) and my selfe hapned both to be present; he retracted to us his opinion, or rather disclaimed, as my Lord of Duresme that now is (but then Dean of Christ-church) doth well remember. This opi∣nion then being sound, that Eloquence may serve as an handmaid, and Tropes and Figures, as Jewels and Ornaments to this chaste Matron, Divinity; I must say as I began, that his Sermons are as well attended and adorned in this kind, and as plentifully as any of his predecessors have been, or his successours are like to be; and that they were wont so to be long since sufficeth this testimony, that her Majesty that last raigned when she first

heard him, said, she thought the holy Ghost was descecded again in this Dove.

Of BRISTOL.

Dr. John Thornbury.

BRistoll being a Bishoprick of the later erection, namely but 66. years since, no marvaile it never had any Bishop thereof Cannonized for a Saint, yet it can∣not be denyed since to have had one Holy∣man; and if copulation with a Bishop might make them holy, it hath had also in his short time more then one holy woman. Ispent a roving shaft on Fletchers second Marriage, I would I could as well plucke out the Thorne of Doctor Thornburies first Marriage out of every mans conscience that have taken a scandall of his second. For my part whatsoever I think in my pri∣vate, it becoms us not to Judge our Judges, the Customes and Lawes of some Coun∣tries differ from other, and sometimes are changed and mended in the same, as this case of divorce is most godly reformed in ours, and as Vincentius Lirinensis saith well of St. Cyprian who had before the

Councell of Carthage defended rebapti∣zing. The Author of this errour, saith he, is no doubt in heaven, the followers and practifers of it now goe to hell, so I may say of this Bishop, his remarriage may be pardoned, Et in hoc saeculo et in futuro, but he that shall so do, again may be met with in hoc saeculo. But it was the Bishop of Limbrick in Ireland and not the Bishop of Bristoll in England that thus married; what? doth this lessen the scandall? I suppose it doth. For I dare affirme, that most of that Diocesse are so well catechi∣sed, as they thinke it as great a scandall for their Bishop, (yea rather greater) to have one wife as to have two, and though for Lay mens Marriage, their Priests tell them it is a holy Sacrament in them (which they count a Sacriledge in a Bi∣shop) and they conferre to them out of St. Paul 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, there is a great Sacrament, yet their people and some of their Peers also regard it as slight∣ly, and dissolve it more uncivilly then if it were but a civill contract, for which they draw not onely by their bastardies and bigamies many apparent scourges of God the heavenly Father, but also a pecu∣liar pennance unto their Nation of one

fasting day extraordinary from their holy father the Pope. But setting aside this misfortune rather then fault, which is God and the King pardon him for, who shall impute to him? for other matters, I have reason to think him and his in Gods and the Kings favour. He and his whole family had a miraculous escape in Ireland, which I would all our Bishops did know▪ that they might remember to keep their houses in better reparations. Lying in an old Castle in Ireland in a large room, partitioned but with sheets or curtens, his wife, children, and servants, in effect a whole family; In the dead time of the night, the floore over head being earth and plaster, as in many places is used, o∣vercharged with weight, fell wholly downe together, and crushing all to pie∣ces that was above two foot high as cup∣bords, tables, formes, stooles, rested at last upon certaine chests, as God would have it, and hurt no living creature. He did many good services in Ireland for our Queen and State, for which he was thought worthy of a better aboade, then in that Purgatory.

He hath very good understanding of that Countrey, and if some others, who

are since gone out of this world, had been as willing as he to have reported to his Majesty the diseases of that Countrey and the fittest cures, it may be it would not in long time have needed those desperate re∣medies of Secandum and Vrendum, as sharp to the Surgeons oftentimes as to the Patients. But to conclude, of this Bishop, whom I love more then I praise, he is not unfurnisht of Learning, of Wis∣dome, of Courage and other as well E∣piscopall as temporall panoplia or furni∣ture beseeming a gentleman, a Dean, and a Bishop.

Of St. DAVIDS,

and the present Bishop, Dr. Anthony Rudd.

OF this ancient Bishoprick or rather Archbishoprick of St. Davids (as the old true Brittans doe call it) in latter cal∣led Menevia, and the Bishop Menevensis, I was told of an old indulgence granted by Calixtus the second, of a very speciall note, ascribing thereby great holinesse to this place, viz. that two pilgrimages to St. Davids should be equal in merit to one pilgrimage to Rome, expressed since for

brevities sake by some Fryer in a ryming verse, Roma semel quantum, Bis dat Mene∣via tantum. This place hath yielded ma∣ny excellent Bishops, as well for good Learning as good life, and for abstinence miraculous, if we believe stories that 33. Bishops successively did eat no flesh. I can adde little of the Bishops save of him that now lives whom if I knew not, yet by his Looke I should guesse to be a grave and austere man, even like St. David him∣selfe, but knowing him as I doe, he was in more possibility to have proved like to St. John Baptist in my opinion. There is almost none that waited in Queen E∣lizabeths Court and observed any thing, but can tell, that it pleased her very much to seeme, to be thought, and to be told that shee looked young. The Ma∣jesty and gravity of a Scepter borne 44. yeares could not alter that nature of a woman in her; This notwithstanding, this good Bishop being appointed to Preach before her in the Lent of the yeere 1596, the Court then lying at Richmond, wishing in a godly zeale, as well became him, that she should thinke sometime of Mortality, being then 63. years of age, he tooke this text fit for that purpose out of

the Psalms, Psalm. 90. vers. 12. O teach us to number our dayes, that we may incline our heart unto wisedome, which Text he handled so well, so learnedly, and so re∣spectively, as I dare undertake & so should I if I had not been somewhat better ac∣quainted with the humour, that it would have well pleased her, or at least no way offended her. But when he had spoken a while of some sacred and mysticall num∣bers, as three for the Trinity, three times three for the heavenly Hierarchy seven for the Sabbath, and seven times seven for a Jubile; and lastly (I doe not de∣liver it so handsomely as he brought it in) seven times nine for the grand Clima∣ctericall yeare; she perceiving whereto it tended began to be trouled with it. The Bishop discovering all was not well, for the Pulpit stands there Vis a vis to the Closet, he fell to Treat of some more plausible numbers, as of the number 666. making Latinus with which he said he could prove the Pope to be Antichrist also, of the fatall number of 88. which being so long before spoken of for a dangerous year, yet it hath pleased God that yeare not onely to preserve her but to give her a famous victory, against the united For∣ces

of Rome and Spaine; and so he said there was no doubt but she should passe this year also and many more, if she would in her meditations and Soliloquies with God, as he doubted not she often did, and would say thus and thus. So making indeed an excellent prayer by way of Pro∣sopopeia in her Majesties person acknow∣ledging Gods great graces and benefits, and praying devoutly for the continuance of them, but withall interlarding it with some passages of Scripture that touch the infirmities of age; as that of Ecclesiastes 12. When the Grynders shall be few in num∣ber, and they wax darke that looke out of the windowes &c. and the Daughters of singing shall be abased: and more to like purpose, he concluded his Sermon. The Queen as the manner was opened the window, but she was so farre from giving him thanks or good countenance, that she said plainly he should have kept his Arithmetick for himselfe, but I see said she the greatest Clerks are not the wisest men, and so went away for the time discontented. The Lord Keeper Puckering though reve∣rencing the man much in his particular, yet for the present to asswage the Queens displeasure, commanded him to keep his

house for a time, which he did. But of a truth her Majesty shewed no ill nature in this, for within three dayes after she was not onely displeased at his restraint, but in my hearing rebuked a Lady yet living for speaking scornefully of him and his Sermon. Onely to shew how the good Bishop was deceived in supposing she was so decayed in her limbes and senses as himself perhaps & other of that age were wont to be; she said she thankt God that neither her stomack nor strength, nor her voyce for singing nor fingring Instru∣ments; nor lastly, her sight was any whit decayed, and to prove the last before us all she produced a little Jewell that had an inscription of very small Letters, and offered it first to my Lord of Worcester, and then to Sir James Crofts to read, and both protested bona fide that they could not, yet the Queen her selfe did finde out the Poesie, and made her selfe merry with the standers by upon it; and thus much for St. Davids. Yet I have been told of a strange story of a huge waight and bignesse that hath a pretty quality, name∣ly, that with one finger you may stir it, yet twenty yoke of Oxen cannot remove it; but I rather think it is mistaken, for

the stone Mr. Cambden writes of is neere Pensance in your Country of Cornwal, cal∣led Mam amber, of which he writes page 136. hath the very like quality.

Of LANDAFF.

Doctor Francis Godwin.

It is doubtlesse a wonderfull antiquity that my Authour produceth of Landaff, that it professed Christianity, and had a Church for Christian Religion in the yeer of our Lord 180. But alas, for a man to boast of great Nobility, and goe in rag∣ged clothes, and a Church to be praised for great antiquity, and make ruinous showes, is in mine opinion according to the vulgar proverbe, a great boast and a small roast. But by this Authors relation it appeares, this rost was so marred by an ill Cooke, as by a worse Kitchen; for in the yeare 1545. being the 37 yeare of Henry the eight, Doctor Kitchen being made of an idle Abbot, a bufie Bishop, & wading through those hazardous times that ensued till the first yeare of Queene Elizabeth, to save himselfe was content to spoile his Bishoprick; Satan having in those dayes more care to sift the Bishop∣pricks

then the Bishops, else how was it possible for a man of that ranke to sing, Cantate domino canticum novum four times in fourteen yeares, and never sing out of tune, if he had not lov'd the Kitchen bet∣ter then the Church. Howbeit, though he might seeme for name sake to favour the Kitchen, yet in spoyling that sea hee was as little friend to the Kitchen as the rest, spoyling the woods and good provi∣sions that should have warm'd it, which gave occasion to Doctor Babbington, now Bishop of Worcester, to call it Aph with∣out Land, and Doctor Morgan after to remove to Saint Assaph, from thence not for name sake, but for his own name sake, that is More-gaine: At what time the pre∣sent Bishop I now speake of, being then Sub-Deane of Exeter, Doctor Francis Godwin, having that yeare newly publi∣shed this worke, she gave him presently this Bishoprick, not full two moneths va∣cant, and would as willingly have given him a much better in her owne dispositi∣on, as may well appeare in that she gave Doctor Cooper the Bishoprick of Lincoln••, onely for making a Dictionary, or rather but for mending that which Sir Thomas Eliot had made before. Of this Bishop

therefore I may speake sparingly, yea, ra∣ther spare all speech, considering that e∣very leafe of his worthy worke, is a suffi∣cient testimony of his vertuous mind, un∣fatigable industry, and infinite reading; for even as we see commonly, those Gen∣tlemen that are well descended, and bet∣ter bred, are most carefull to preserve the true memory and pedigree of their An∣cestors, which the base and ignorant, be∣cause they could not conserve, will seeme to condemne: So this worthy Bishop, col∣lecting so diligently, & relating so faith∣fully the succession and lives of so many of our Christian most reverend Bishops in former ages, doth prove himselfe more by spirituall, then carnall birth, to come of those Ancestors, of whom it was long be∣fore prophecyed by the princely Prophet, In stead of thy Fathers, thou shalt have Chil∣dren whom thou shalt make Princes in all places. Though the policy of these latter times hath sought to make our Fathers all but Children, and younger brothers (as they say) and to disinherit them of their patrimonie; he deserveth therefore a pen much better then mine, and equall to his own, to doe that for him he hath done for others. Before his going to Ex

eter, I had some acquaintance with him, and have heard him preach more then once at our Assizes and else where, his manner was to be sharpe against the Vices most abounding in that time, Sacriledge Symony, contempt of God in his Mini∣sters, and want of Charity. Amongst o∣ther of his Sermons, preaching once of Dives and Lazarus, ••he said, that though the Scriptures had not expressed plainly who Dives was, yet by his clothes and his face he might be bold to affirme, hee was at the least a Justice of Peace, and per∣haps of Oyer & Terminer too. This speech was so ill taken by some guilty consci∣ence, that a great matter was inforc'd to be made of it, that it was a dangerous & seditious speech; and why? forsooth be∣cause it was a deare yeare; but see how a mans enemies sometimes doe him as much good as his friends: their fond ac∣cusation & his discreet justification made him both better known, & more respected by them that were able to doe him most good. Since this he hath lived in so re∣mote places from my occasions, first at Exeter, and then beyond sea in Wales, that I am become almost a stranger to his person, but yet I am growne better ac∣quainted

with his writings both in Latin and English, and namely by this his Ca∣talogue, which having read first with great contentment to my self; I have since for your Highness pleasure perused again, and presumed to adde some notes, and a table, by way of Alphabet, for the more readie finding of most memorable mat∣ters, beside a supply of such as were in his edition wanting; of whom finding him∣selfe to be one, that comming in so wor∣thily was unworthy to be left out. I give him here in his due place his more due commendation, which if I should for∣tune upon some envie to have forborn, or upon judgement to have omitted, as a praise needlesse where the whole worke is his praise, he might worthily have said as much of me, as I wrote of a certaine Poetaster some yeares paft, who left me out of the bead-roul of some riming pa∣per blotters that he call'd Poets.

Of Poets Balbus reckoning up a table, doth boast he makes their names more honourable, And nere vouchsafing me to name at all, he saies he knowes he grieved me to the gall. I galled? simple soule; no, thou art gulled to thinke I prize the praise of such a dull-head,

Whose verse 〈◊〉〈◊〉 guilty of some b••dge or blame, Let them seeke testimonialls of their fame. Then learn untaught, then learn ye envious Elves, No Books are prais'd, that praise not most themselves.

And thus much be said for the Pro∣vince of Canterbury and the Bishops of the severall Diocesses thereof.