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as discernible in a preacher as a natural from an an artificial beauty.

He never failed the Sunday before every Emberweek to give notice of it to his parishioners, persuading them both to fast, and then to double their devotions for a learned and pious clergy; but especially the last, saying often, "That the life of a pious clergyman was visible rhetoric, and so convincing, that the most godless men (though they would not deny themselves the enjoyment of their present lusts) did yet secretly wish themselves like those of the strictest lives." And to what he persuaded others he added his own example of fasting and prayer; and did usually every Ember-week take from the parish clerk the key of the churchdoor, into which place he retired every day, and locked himself up for many hours; and did the like most Fridays and other days of fasting.

He would by no means omit the customary time of procession, persuading all, both rich and poor, if they desired the preservation of love and their parish rights and liberties, to accompany him in his perambulation, and most did so; in which perambulation he would usually express more pleasant discourse than at other times, and would then always drop some loving and facetious observations to be remembered against the next year, especially by the boys and young people; still inclining them and all his present parishioners to meekness, and mutual kindnesses, and love; because love thinks not evil, but covers a multitude of infirmities.

He was diligent to enquire who of his parish were sick, or any ways distressed, and would often visit them, unsent for; supposing that the fittest time to discover to them those errors to which health and prosperity had blinded them; and having by pious

reasons

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reasons and prayers moulded them into holy resolutions for the time to come, he would incline them to confession, and bewailing their sins, with purpose to forsake them, and then to receive the communion, both as a strengthening of those holy resolutions and as a seal betwixt God and them of his mercies to their souls, in case that present sickness did put a period to their lives.

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

This was his constant behaviour both at Borne and in all places in which he lived: thus did he walk with God, and tread the footsteps of primi

tive piety; and yet as that great example of meekness and purity, even our blessed Jesus, was not free from false accusations, no more was this disciple of his, this most humble, most innocent, holy man. His was a slander parallel to that of chaste Susannah's by the wicked elders, or that against St. Athanasius, as it is recorded in his life, (for that holy man had his heretical enemies) a slander which this age calls trepanning; the particulars need not a repetition; and that it was false needs no other testimony than the public punishment of his accusers, and their open confession of his innocency. It was said that the accusation was contrived by a dissenting brother, one that endured not church ceremonies, hating him for his book's sake, which he was not able to answer; and his name hath been told me, but I have not so much confidence in the relation as to make my pen fix a scandal upon him to posterity; I shall rather leave it doubtful till the great day of revelation. But this is certain, that he lay under the great charge, and the anxiety of this accusation, and kept it secret to himself for many months; and being a helpless man, had lain longer under this heavy burthen, but that the protector of the innocent gave such an accidental occasion as forced him to make it known to his two dearest friends, Edwin Sandys and George Cranmer, who were so sensible of their tutor's sufferings, that they gave themselves no rest till by their disquisitions and diligence they had found out the fraud, and brought him the welcome news, that his accusers did confess they had wronged him, and begged his pardon: To which the good man's reply was to this purpose, "The Lord forgive them, and the Lord bless you for this comfortable news: Now I have a just occasion to say with Solomon, Friends are born for the days of adversity, and such you

have proved to me; and to my God I say, as did the mother of St. John Baptist, Thus hath the Lord dealt with me in the day wherein he looked upon me, to take away my reproach among men. And, oh my God! neither my life nor my reputation are safe in mine own keeping, but in thine, who didst take care of me when I yet hanged upon my mother's breast. Blessed are they that put their trust in thee, O Lord; for when false witnesses were risen up against me, when shame was ready to cover my face, when my nights were restless, when my soul thirsted for a deliverance, as the hart panteth after the rivers of waters, then thou, Lord, didst hear my complaints, pity my condition, and art now become my deliverer; and as long as I live I will hold up my hands in this manner, and magnify thy mercies, who didst not give me over as a prey to mine enemies; the net is broken, and they are taken in it. Oh blessed are they that put their trust in thee: and no prosperity shall make me forget those days of sorrow, or to perform those vows that I have made to thee in the days of my affliction; for with such sacrifices thou, O God, art well pleased, and I will pay them."

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

pleasing,

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

About the year 1600, and of his age 46, he fell into a long and sharp sickness, occasioned by a cold taken in his passage by water betwixt London and Gravesend; from the malignity of which he was never recovered: for, after that time till his death he was not free from thoughtful days, and restless nights; but a submission to his will that makes the sick man's bed easy by giving rest to his soul, made his very languishment comfortable; and yet all this time he was solicitous in his study, and said often to Dr. Saravia (who saw him daily, and was the chief comfort of his life) "That he did not beg a long life of God, for any other reason, but to live to finish his three remaining books of polity; and then, Lord, let thy servant depart in peace," which was his usual expression. And God heard his prayers, though he denied the church the benefit

of