To the extent possible under law, the Text Creation Partnership has waived all copyright and related or neighboring rights to this keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above, according to the terms of the CC0 1.0 Public Domain Dedication (http://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/zero/1.0/). This waiver does not extend to any page images or other supplementary files associated with this work, which may be protected by copyright or other license restrictions. Please go to http://www.textcreationpartnership.org/ for more information.
1. JOhn * 1.1 Colet was born in London, the Son of Henry Colet (Knight, and twice Lord Major of that City) and Christian his Wife, a Matron of very rare Piety and Chri∣stian Fortitude. She had 11 Sons, and as many Daughters of the same Husband: all which she saw bu••ied,
except John, her first born. Yet, when she was fourscore and ten years of Age, her countenance was so comely and entire, her behaviour so cheerful and pleasant, as if she had never had any sorrow or any childbearing in her life. So much strength of mind was shewen in a woman, cau∣sed not by Philosophy or human learning, but by sincere piety to God and trust in Christ.
2. Nature was as indulgent to him as fortune; for he had a very proper, tall, handsom and come∣ly body. In his younger daies he much addicted himself to the study of Scholastical Philosophy, exquisitely learned in the liberal Arts: All Tul∣lies works were as familiar to him as his Epistles: so well read in Plato and Plotinus, that when I heard him speak, methought I heard Plato him∣self: not ignorant in any part of the Mathe∣maticks.
3. Being thus well principled at home (Ma∣ster of Arts) he began to look abroad, and improve his stockin forein parts. In France he added to his Humanity, what he chought necessary for the study of Divinity: which then he effectually prosecuted in Italy. He studied the Fathers and Schoolmen: was well versed in both Laws: sin∣gularly read in History, both Civil and Ecclesia∣stical. Modern Writers also, he both read and di∣ligently imitated, accommodating thereby his stile to the Pulpit, and preaching of the Gospel.
4. After his return from Italy, he staid not long in London, (where his Parents lived) but chose to live in Oxford; where he publickly (yet freely and without stipend) expounded S. Paul's Epistles, being not full thirty years of age, yonger than▪ was by two or three months. I here and then I had the happiness to come first acquainted with him. Though at that time he had neither took, nor desired any degree in Divinity; yet there was no Doctor whatsoever, either of Theo∣logy or Law, no Abbot nor dignified Person in the whole University, that did not frequent and (which is more) take notes of his Lectures. Which was to be imputed either to Colet's au∣thority, or their studiousness and modesty, choose you whether.
5. But before he left Oxford, they honour'd him with the Degree of Doctor: which he ac∣cepted, rather to please the Givers than himself. From that University and these sacred Employ∣ments, he was called back to London by the favour of K. Henry VII. who bestowed upon him the Deanty of S. Paul's: that he might be President of his Colledge, whose Epistles and learning he loved so well: (He was made both Doctor and Dean An. 1504.) Of all the Deanries in Engla••d the highest in esteem, but not of greatest value: which Colet embraced rather as a barthensom charge, than honour. And therefore, as soon as
he had regulated his Colledge of Prebends, and raised up the antient Discipline that was fallen down, he resolved (which was not usual in those times) to preach every Holy day in his Cathedral, over and above his Sermons at Court, and many other Churches. At S. Paul's he ran over, some∣times a whole Epistle, sometime, a whole Gospel, the Creed, or the Lords prayer. Wheresoever he preached, he was exceedingly followed, both by the chief Citizens and Courtiers: particularly by Sr Thomas More (afterwards Lord Chanc: of England) as appears by this following passage of his Letter: What can be more troublesom to me, than to be deprived of your sweet company? having been so long used to enjoy your most prudent counsel, to be refresht with your most pleasant societie, to be rouzed with your most grave Sermons, and bettered by your excellent example and life: in a word, in whose very countenance and gesture I was wont to be unspeakablie delighted.
6. The Dean's Table, which in former times had, under pretence of good house keeping, been too much prostitute to excesse, he reduced to frugality. For he kept himself to one meal a day many years together, both before and after his preferment: which at once cut off all his supper-guests: late Dinners not a few: and the more, because his entertainment (though neat) was neither costly nor excessive; his sitting
short, and his whole discourse such as pleased none but those that were either learned or pious. For soon after he had said Grace, his Boy read a Chapter (distinctly and aloud) out of S. Paul's Epistles, or Solomon's Proverbs; from which he himself, for the most part, pickt the subject of that meals discourse, asking not onely Scholars, but even ordinary people, if they were ingenu∣ous, what was the meaning of this or that passage: with as much satisfaction to their minds, as re∣freshment to their bodies. He affected neatness in his housholdstuff, cloaths, books, meat; but not magnificence: and was so much averse from all filthinesse, that he could not endure solecisms or barbarous language. He was hugely delighted with the conference of his friends, who oft kept him till late at night: but all his conference was either of literature, or Jesus Christ. If he had no acceptable friend to chat with (for every one did not please him) his boy did read somewhat to him out of godly books. Sometimes he called me to ride abroad with him: and then he was as merry as any man alive: but a good book was al∣waies his Comrade in his journey, and his talk was continually of Christ.
7. Whatsoever Revenues accrued unto him by the Church, he entirely committed to his Steward, to be distributed and spent in house∣keeping. His own hereditary rents and profits
(which were vast) he himself distributed to pious uses. For, his Father being dead, money flowed in apace from what was left him by inheritance: and lest that being kept should breed some di∣sease in him, he therewith erected a stately new School in Paul's Church-yard, dedicated to the Holy Child JESUS: whereunto he joyned fair dwellings for two Schoolmasters, to whom he assigned liberal stipends, that they might teach gratis, but so as they should not admit above a certain number (viz. 153. from Jo. XXI. 11.) Above the Masters Chair, stands the Holy Child JESUS, curiously engraven, in the posture of one reading a Lecture, with this Motto, HEAR HIM: which words I advised him to set up. And all the young fry, when they come in and go out of School (besides their appointed prayers) salute Christ with an Hymn † 1.2, Every Classe containeth 16. boyes, and the best Scholar of each sits in a seat somewhat more emi∣nent than the rest, with the word CAPITANEUS engraven in golden letters over his head.
8. Our quicksighted Dr Colet saw very well, that the main hope and pillar of a Common∣wealth consists in furnishing youth with good li∣terature, and therefore did he bestow so much care and cost on this School. Though it stood him in and infinite sum of money to build and
endow it, yet he would accept of no partner. One left indeed a Legacie of an 100 pounds sterling to the structure of it; but Colet thinking, that if he took it, * 1.3 some lay people would chal∣lenge to themselves, I know not what authority over the School, did by the permission of the Bishop bestow it upon holy Vestments for the Quire. Yet, though he would suffer no lay man to have a finger in the building, he entrusted no Clergy man (not so much as the Bishop, Dean and Chapter of S. Pauls) nor any of the Nobility, with the oversight of the Revenues, but some married Citizens of honest report. When he was asked, why he would do so? he answered, That there was nothing certain in human affairs; but he found least corruption in such men.
9. As all men highly * 1.4 esteemed him for his School; so many wondred why he would build so stately an house, within the bounds of the Carthusian Monastery, not far from the Palace at Richmond:
but he told them, That he provided that seat for himself in his old age, when he should be unfit for labours, or broken with diseases, and so constrained to retire from the society of men. There he inten∣ded to philosophize with two or three eminent friends, among which he was wont to reckon me, but death prevented him. For being few years before his decease visited thrice with the sweating sicknesse (a disease which seised no Country men but English) though he recovered, yet he thereupon grew consumptive, and so dyed. He was buried in the South side of the Quire of his own Cathedral, in a low Sepulchre, which he to that end had chose for himself some years before, with this inscription, JOHN COLET.
10. Somewhat I shall adde, first of his Nature, secondly of his paradoxical Opinions, and lastly of his Afflictions, wherewith his ingenuous piety was exercised: for some whereof he might have thanked his own natural temper. For he was of a very high spirit, huge impatient of any injury, wonderfully prone to lascivioufnesse, luxury and overmuch sleep, to feasting and facetiousnesse above measure (all this he confessed to me him∣self) and he was not wholly safe from covetous∣nesse. But against each of these, he fought such a good fight, by Philosophy, Divine Contemplati∣ons, watching, fasting and prayer, that he led the whole course of his life free from the infections
of this world; and as far as I could any waies gather (by familiarity and much liberal converse with him) was a pure Virgin to his dying day. All his wealth he distributed to pious uses. He did so dayly endeavour to conquer all his passions, and subdue the haughtinesse of his mind by rea∣son, that he would take it well to be admonished even by a child. Lasciviousnesse, sleep and luxury he chased away by abstaining constantly from supper, by continual sobriety, indefatigable study, and holy Conferences. But yet, when there was occasion, either to discourse with fair Ladies, or jest with witty persons, or feast with pleasant, a man might easily perceive some footsteps of his nature: which made him, for the most part, keep from the society of all lay people, but especially from banquets, to which, when he must needs come, he commonly took with him me or some learned friend, with whom he discoursed in La∣tin, that he might avoid idle talk. His custom was to eat onely of one dish, to content himself with one glasse of bear or ale, or two at the most. And, though he was delighted with good wine, yet he drank very little of it, alwaies suspecting his own sanguine complexion and inclination, and being wary of all those things, by which he might offend any person whatsoever. In all my life I never saw a more happie Wit: and thence it came that he was exceedingly pleased with such Wits
as were like himself: but at all times, when he might chuse his discourse, it was of such things as prepared him for the immortality of a life to come. And when at any time he refresht himself with pleasant stories, he did not fail to make use of his Philosophy in them. He was much pleased with the simplicity of nature in little children (to the imitation of ••hom we are called by our bles∣sed Saviour) being wont to compare them to Angels.
11. Now for the second particular his Opinions, he much differed in them from the Vulgar. The Scotists (of whose acutenesse most men have an high conceit) he esteemed heavy fellows, and any thing rather than ingenuous. And yet he had a worse opinion of Thomas Aquinas than of Scotus: who, said he, if he had not been verie arrogant, would never so rashlie (and yet so magisteriallie) have presumed to define all points of religion: and if he had not savoured too much of the spirit of the world. he would not have polluted all the doctrine of Christ with so much of his own prophane Philosophie. No man was more a friend to true Christian piety, yet he had little or no kindness for Monks, or ra∣ther I should say for those who are now (for the most part falsly) so called: and therefore, while he lived, he gave them but little, and when he dyed, nothing: not that he hated their profession, but because he saw they did not live according
to it. Yet his desire was, to have disengaged himself from the world, and betaken himself to a Monastery, if he could any where have found a Society, that was truly and unanimously resolved upon an Evangelical life. Though he lived very chastly himself, yet he had a very charitable opi∣nion of those Priests and Monks, who had no other crime but venery: not that he did not heartily abhor the sin, but because he found such men far lesse mischieveous than others (if com∣pared) who were haughty, envious, backbiters, hypoctites, vain, unlearned, wholly given to the getting of money and honour. And he was not more averse to any sort of men, than such Bishops, who were Wolves instead of Shepherds, and com∣mended themselves by external service of God, ceremonies, benedictions and indulgences to the people, while with all their hearts they ser∣ved the world: i. e. glory and gain. He was not much displeased with them, who would not have images (either painted or carved, gold or silver) worshipt in Churches: nor with them, who doubted whether a notorious wicked Priest could consecrate the Sacrament. Hereby not favouring their error, but expressing his indignation against such Clergy-men, who by an open bad life gave occasion to this suspicion. As he did much ap∣prove of secret confession (professing that he never had so much comfort from any thing as that) so
he much condemned anxiety in it, and repetiti∣on. He was content to Sacrifice on Sundays and Holy daies, or some few daies beside: either to gain more time for his sacred studies, and fit himself the better for his Pulpit employments, and the businesse of his Cathedral; or, because he found that his dovotion had a greater edge, when it was sharpned with intervals: and yet, he would not condemn them who were minded to come to the Lords Table every day. Though he was a very learned man himself, yet he did not prize the vast and confused learning of such as wander among various sciences and books, saying, They got rather a learned sort of madness, than any true incentive to Christian innocence, simplicitie and cha∣ritie. He dissented from innumerable opinions commonly received in the Schools: in which, he would sometimes tell his mind to his friends, but say nothing to others, lest he should incur a dou∣ble inconvenience, loose his own credit, and do them no good, perhaps harm.
12. And now in the last place hear his Affli∣ctions. He never agreed well with his Bishop, who (to say nothing of his manners) was a superstitious and stubborn Scotist. Neither was the Doctor ac∣ceptable to most of his own Colledge, because he was very tenacious of regular discipline; and the Prebends complained, that he used them as Monks: whereas indeed that Colledge was antiently
called East-monasterie. The old Bishop exhibited Articles against him to the Archbishop of Cant: That he said, Images were not to be worshiped, &c. But the Archbishop being well acquainted with Colet's excellencies, instead of being his Judge, became his Advocate. Then the old man strove to incense the Court against him, especially K. Henry VIII. himself: because the Doctor (when the King was raising forces against the French) had said in a Sermon: That an unjust peace was to be preferred before a most just war. Here the King (who was an excellent person in his youth) gave an evident proof of his Royal parts, exhorting the Dean privately; To go on in his preaching, freelie to tax the corrupt manners of that age, and not to withdraw his light in those most dark times; adding, That he knew very well what incensed the Bishops so highlie against him, and how much good the Dean had done by his Divine life and holie Do∣ctrine to the English Church and Nation: Lastly, that he would so curb their endeavours, that it should appear to the world, Whoever troubled Colet should not escape unpunisht. Hereupon the Dean humbly thanked the King for his Royal favour, but be∣seeched him not to do so; professing, That he had rather lay down his preferment, then that any should suffer for his sake. Again, upon Good-Friday, the Dean made a Sermon to the King and Courtiers, which was much admired, con∣cerning
the victorie of Christ: wherein he exhor∣ted all Christians to fight under the banner of their heavenly King, and overcome, saying, That they, who either through hatred, or ambition, or co∣v••teousness, do fight with evil men, and so kill one another, fight not under the banner of Christ, but the Divel; shewing withal. How hard a thing it is, to die like a Christian: How few go forth to battel free from hatred and covetousnesse; and how diffi∣cult for such to be in charitie (without which no man shall see God) who sheath their swords in their bre∣threns bowels: adding, That they should rather imi∣tate their King Christ, than Pagan Caesars and Alexa••ders. And he had so many other smart passages to this purpose, that his Majesty was somewhat afraid, lest this Sermon would dishear∣ten the Soldiers that were listed. But, when Colet came before the King, in his garden at Greenwich, the King bids him cover his head, and speak his mind freely: and then his Highness began thus, Dean, be not surprised with needlesse fears, I did not send for you hither to disturb your most holy labours, which I resolve to cherish as much as I can; but to unlode my conscience of some scruples, and to desire your advice concerning my dutie. The Conference lasted almost an hour and an half, and I must not relate it all. Only, his Majestie wisht, That what the Dean spake truly he would speak some time or other more plainly,
lest the rude Soldiers should misunderstand it, as if he had said, That no war is lawful among Christi∣ans. So the King called fo•• a Cup, and drank to him, embraced him most kindly, and promi••••ng him all the favours that could be e••pected from a most loving Prince, dismissed him; and turn∣ing to the Courtiers said, Well, let other men chuse what Doctors they please, and make much of them, This man shall be my Doctor. From that day for∣ward never durst his enemies trouble Colet any more: a person, that, in an high fortune and plenty, was led and governed not by his nature, but by Christ: in a word, whom I shall not doubt to reckon in the Catalogue of my Saints, though he be never canonized by any Pope. Thus far Erasmus.
13. I shall onely annex a few lines collected out of Stow's Survey of London in fol. concerning his kindred. His father Sr Henrie Colet (son to Robert Colet of Wendover in Buckinghamshier, Esq.) was buried at Stepney, where his Monu∣ment still remains. And the Pictures of Sr Henrie and his Dame Christian, and ten of his Sons, and ten of his Daughters, remain in the window, on the North side of St Anthonie (or Antlin) his Church near Budge-row. But he was born in the Manour of Hale in Buckingham∣shire, near Wendover, and Alesburie: which
Manour our Doctor left to Pauls School, an•• some of his name dwell there still. See hi•• Monument excellently described by learne•• Mr Dugdale in his History of St Paul's Cathe∣drall.
Coheleth in the Heb. signifies Ec∣clesiastes, the Prea∣cher. Colet is that part of the ring wherein the preci∣ous stone or signet is set. Thomas. in voce pala.
Which you may read amongst Eras∣mus's Epigrams.
Tam ingentes sum∣tus ut s••trapā quo{que} deterrere possint. Eras. Ep. ded. ad Cop. Verb. which book he wrote for the benefit of Paul's School, as he wrote his book called Ec∣clesiastes (at the request of B. Fisher) for Christ's Coll. and S. Johns in Cambrige.
Morus in Epist. ad Col. Neque valde miror, si clariss. scholae tuae rum∣pantur invidia. Vident e∣nim, uti ex equo Troj. pre∣dierunt Graeci, qui barba∣ram diruêre Trojam, sic è tua prodire Schola, qui ip∣sorum arguunt & subver∣tunt stultitiam.