Thirty-Six Sermons, Life · Floating text 1 – Floating text 2

Thirty-Six Sermons · Life · Floating text 1 – Floating text 2

p. 3THE LIFE OF Dr. Robert Sanderson, LATE LORD BISHOP OF LINCOLN.

DOctor Robert Sanderson, the late Learned Bishop of Lincoln, whose Life I intend to write with all truth and equal plainness, was born the nineteenth day of September, in the year of our Redemption, 1587. The place of his Birth was Rotheram in the County of York: a Town of good note, and the more, for that Thomas Rotheram, sometime Archbishop of that Sea, was born in it; a man, whose great Wisdom and Bounty, and Sanctity of Life, gave a denomination to it, or hath made it the more memorable; as indeed it ought also to be, for being the birthplace of our Robert Sanderson. And, the Reader will be of my belief, if this humble Relation of his Life can hold any proportion with his great Sanctity, his useful Learning, and his many other extaordinary Endowments.

p. 2He was the second and youngest Son of Robert Sanderson of Gilthwait-hall in the said Parish and County, Esq by Elizabeth one of the Daughters of Richard Carr of Buterthwate-hall, in the Parish of Ecclesfield in the said County of York, Gentleman.

This Robert Sanderson the Father, was descended from a numerous, ancient and honourable Family of his own Name: for the search of which truth, I refer my Reader, that inclines to it, t… Dr. Thoriton's History of the Anti…ities of Nottinghamshire, and other Records; not thinking it necessary here to ingage him into a search for bare Titles, which are noted to have in them nothing of reality: For, Titles not acquir'd, but deriv'd only, do but shew us who of our Ancestors have, and how they have atchiev'd that honour which their Descendants claim, and may not be worthy to enjoy. For if those Titles descend to persons that degenerate into Vice, and break off the continued line of Learning, or Valour, or that Vertue that acquir'd them, they destroy the very Foundation upon which that Honour was built; and all the Rubbish of their Degenerousness ought to fall heavy on such dishonourable Heads; ought to fall so heavy, as to degrade them of their Titles, and blast their Memories with reproach and shame.

But this Robert Sanderson, lived worthy of his Name and Family▪ of which one testimony may be, That Gilbert, call'd the great and glorious Earl of Shrewsbury, thought him not unworthy to be joyn'd with him as a God-Father to Gilbert Sheldon, the late Lord Archbishop of Canterbury; to whose Merits and Memory Posterity (the Clergy especially) ought to pay a Reverence.

But I return to my intended Relation of Robert the Son, who (like Iosia that good King) began in his Youth to make the Laws of God, and Obedience to his Parents, the Rules of his life; seeming even then, to dedicate himself and all his Studies, to Piety and Vertue.

And, as he was inclin'd to this by that native goodness, with which the wise Disposer of all hearts had endow'd his: So this calm, this quiet and happy temper of mind (his being mild and averse to oppositions) made the whole course of his life easie and grateful both to himself and others: And this blessed temper, was maintain'd, and improv'd by his prudent Fathers good Example; as also, by his frequent conversing with him, and scattering short and vertuous Apothegms with little pleasant Stories, and making useful applications p. 3of them, by which his Son was in his Infancy taught to abhor Vanity and Vice as Monsters, and to discern the loveliness of Wisdom and Vertue; and by these means and God's concurring Grace, his knowledge was so augmented, and his native goodness so confirm'd, that all became so habitual, as 'twas not easie to determine whether Nature or Education were his Teachers.

And here let me tell the Reader, That these early beginnings of Vertue were by God's assisting Grace blest with what St. Paul seem'd to beg for his Philippians; namely, That he Phil. 1. 6.Phil 1:6that had begun a good Work in them, would finish it. And Almighty God did: For his whole life was so regular and innocent, that he might have said at his death (and with truth and comfort) what the same St. Paul said after to the same Philippians, Chap. 3. 17.when he advis'd them to walk as they had him for an Example.

And this goodness, of which I have spoken, seem'd to increase as his years did; and with his goodness his learning, the foundation of which was laid in the Grammar School of Rotheram (that being one of those three that were founded and liberally endow'd by the said great and good Bishop of that Name.) And in this time of his being a Scholar there, he was observ'd to use on unwearied diligence to attain learning, and to have a seriousness beyond his age, and with it a more than common modesty; and to be of so calm and obliging behaviour, that the Master and whole number of Scholars lov'd him as one man.

And in this love and amity he continued at that School, till about the thirteenth year of his Age; at which time his Father design'd to improve his Grammar learning, by removing him from Rotheram to one of the more noted Schools of Eaton or Westminster: and after a years stay there, then to remove him thence to Oxford. But, as he went with him, he call'd on an old Friend, a Minister of noted learning, and told him his intentions; and he, after many questions with his Son, receiv'd such Answers from him, that he assur'd his Father, his Son was so perfect a Grammarian, that he had laid a good foundation to build any or all the Arts upon; and therefore advis'd him to shorten his journey, and leave him at Oxford. And his Father did so.

His Father left him there to the sole care and manage of Dr. Kilbie, who was then Rector of Lincoln College: And he, after some time and trial of his manners and learning, thought fit to enter him of that College, and not long p. 4after to matriculate him in the University, which he did the first of Iuly 1603. but he was not chosen Fellow till the third of May 1606. at which time he had taken his degree of Batchelor of Arts; at the taking of which Degree, his Tutor told the Rector, that his Pupil Sanderson had a Metaphysical brain, and a matchless memory: and that he thought he had improv'd, or made the last so by an Art of his own invention. And all the future imployments of his life prov'd that his Tutor was not mistaken.

I must here stop my Reader, and tell him, that this Dr. Kilibie was a man of so great Learning and Wisdom, and so excellent a Critick in the Hebrew Tongue, that he was made Professor of it in this University; and was also so perfect a Grecian, that he was by King Iames appointed to be one of the Translators of the Bible: And that this Doctor and Mr. Sanderson had frequent Discourses, and lov'd as Father and Son. The Doctor was to ride a Journey into Darbyshire, and took Mr. Sanderson to bear him company: and they resting on a Sunday with the Doctor's Friend, and going together to that Parish Church where they then were, found the young Preacher to have no more discretion, than to waste a great part of the hour allotted for his Sermon in exceptions against the late Translation of several words (not expecting such a hearer as Dr. Kilibie) and shew'd three Reasons why a particular word should have been otherwise translated. When Evening Prayer was ended, the Preacher was invited to the Doctor's Friends house; where, after some other Conference, the Doctor told him, He might have preach'd more useful Doctrine, and not have fill'd his Auditors ears with needless Exceptions against the late Translation; and for that word, for which he offered to that poor Congregation three Reasons, why it ought to have been translated, as he said; he and others had considered all them, and found thirteen more considerable Reasons why it was translated as now printed: and told him, If his Friend, then attending him, should prove guilty of such indiscretion, he should forfeit his Favour. To which Mr. Sanderson said, He hop'd he should not. And the Preacher was so ingenious as to say, He would not justifie himself. And so I return to Oxford.

In the year 1608. (Iuly the 11th.) Mr. Sanderson was compleated Master of Arts. I am not ignorant, that for the attaining these Dignities, the time was shorter than was then, or is now required; but either his birth, or the well performance of some extraordinary exercise, or some other merit, made him so: and the Reader is requested to believe that 'twas the last; and requested to believe also, that, if I be mistaken p. 5in the time, the Colledge Records have mis-informed me: But I hope they have not.

In that year of 1608, he was (November the 7th.) by his Colledge chosen Reader of Logick in the House, which he performed so well, that he was chosen again the sixth of Novemb. 1609. In the year 1613. he was chosen Sub-Rector of the Colledge, and the like for the year 1614. and chose again to the same Dignity and Trust for the year 1616.

In all which time and imployments, his abilities and behaviour were such, as procur'd him both love and reverence from the whole Society; there being no exception against him for any faults, but a sorrow for the infirmities of his being too timerous and bashful; both which were, God knows, so connatural, as they never left him; And I know not whether his Lovers ought to wish they had; for they prov'd so like the Radical moisture in man's body, that they preserv'd the life of Vertue in his Soul, which by Gods assisting grace never left him, till this life put on Immortality. Of which happy infirmities (if they may be so call'd) more hereafter.

In the year 1614. he stood to be elected one of the Proctors for the University. And 'twas not to satisfie any ambition of his own, but to comply with the desire of the Rector, and whole Society, of which he was a Member; who had not had a Proctor chosen out of their Colledge for the space of sixty years (namely, not from the year 1554. unto his standing;) and they perswaded him, that if he would but stand for Proctor, his merits were so generally known, and he so well beloved, that 'twas but appearing, and he would infallibly carry it against any Opposers; and told him, That he would by that means recover a right or reputation that was seemingly dead to his Colledge. By these and other like perswasions he yielded up his own reason to theirs, and appear'd to stand for Proctor. But that Election was carried on by so sudden and secret and by so powerful a Faction, that he mist it. Which when he understood, he profest seriously to his Friends, That if he were troubled at the disappointment, 'twas for theirs, and not for his own sake: For he was far from any desire of such an imployment, as must be managed with charge and trouble, and was too usually rewarded with hard censures, or hatred, or both.

In the year following he was earnestly perswaded by Dr. Kilibie and others, to renew the Logick Lectures which he had read some years past in his Colledge: and that done, to methodize and print them, for the ease and publick good of Posterity.

p. 6And though he had an averseness to appear publickly in print; yet after many serious solicitations, and some second thoughts of his own, he laid aside his modesty, and promis'd he would; and he did so in that year of 1615. And the Book prov'd, as his Friends seem'd to prophecy, that is, of great and general use, whether we respect the Art or the Author. For Logick may be said to be an Art of right reasoning: an Art that undeceives men, who take falshood for truth; and enables men to pass a true Judgment and detect those Fallacies which in some mens Understandings usurp the place of right reason. And how great a Master our Author was in this Art, may easily appear from that clearness of Method, Argument, and Demonstration, which is so conspicuous in all his other Writings. And that he who had attain'd to so great a dexterity in the use of reason himself, was best qualified to prescribe rules and directions for the instructions of others. And I am the more satisfied of the excellency and usefulness of this his first publick Undertaking, by hearing, that most Tutors in both Universities teach Dr. Sanderson's Logick to their Pupils, as a Foundation upon which they are to build their future Studies in Philosophy. And for a further confirmation of my belief, the Reader may note, That since this his Book of Logick was first printed, there has not been less than ten thousand sold: And that 'tis like to continue both to discover truth, and to clear and confirm the Reason of the unborn World.

It will easily be believed that his former standing for a Proctors place, and being disappointed, must prove much displeasing to a man of his great Wisdom and Modesty, and create in him an averseness to run a second hazard of his credit and content; and yet, he was assur'd by Dr. Kilby, and the Fellows of his own College, and most of those that had oppos'd him in the former Election, That his Book of Logick had purchas'd for him such a belief of his Learning and Prudence, and his behaviour at the former Election had got for him so great and so general a love, that all his former Opposers repented what they had done; and therefore perswaded him to venture to stand a second time. And upon these and other like Incouragements, he did again, (but not without an inward unwillingness,) yield up his own reason to theirs, and promis'd to stand. And he did so; and was the tenth of April, 1616. chosen Senior Proctor for the year following, Mr. Charles Crook of Christ-Church being then chosen the Junior.

In this year of his being Proctor there happened many memorable p. 7accidents part of which I will relate; namely, Dr. Robert Abbot, Master of Balial College, and Regius Professor of Divinity (who being elected or consecrated Bishop of Sarum some months before) was solemnly conducted out of Oxford towards his Diocess, by the Heads of all Houses, and the other Chiefs of all the University. And it may be noted that Dr. Pridiaux succeeded him in the Professorship, in which he continued till the year 1642. (being then elected Bishop of Worcester) at which time our now Proctor Mr. Sanderson succeeded him in the Regius Professorship.

And in this year Dr. Arthur Lake (then Warden of New College) was advanced to the Bishoprick of Bath and Wells: A man of whom I take my self bound in Justice to say, That he made the great trust committed to him, the chief care and whole business of his life. And one testimony of this truth may be, That he sate usually with his Chancellor in his Consistory, and at least advis'd, if not assisted in most sentences for the punishing of such Offenders as deserved Church Censures. And it may be noted, That after a Sentence for Penance was pronounced, he did very rarely or never, allow of any Commutation for the Offence, but did usually see the Sentence for Penance executed; and then, as usually preach'd a Sermon of Mortification and Repentance, and so apply them to the Offenders, that then stood before him, as begot in them, then, a devout contrition, and at least resolutions to amend their lives; and having done that, he would take them (though never so poor) to dinner with him, and use them friendly, and dismiss them with his blessing, and perswasions to a vertuous life, and beg them for their own sakes to believe him. And his Humility, and Charity, and all other Christian Excellencies were all like this. Of all which the Reader may inform himself in his Life, truly writ and printed before his excellent Sermons.

And in this year also, the very prudent and very wise Lord Elsmere, who was so very long Lord Chancellor of England, and then of Oxford, resigning up the last, the right honourable, and as magnificent, William Herbert Earl of Pembroke, was chosen to succeed him.

And in this year, our late King Charles the First (then Prince of Wales) came honourably attended to Oxford; and having deliberately visited the University, the Schools, Colleges, and Libraries, He and his Attendants were entertained with Ceremonies and Feasting sutable to their Dignity and Merits.

p. 8And in this year King Iames sent Letters to the University for the regulating their Studies; especially of the young Divines: Advising they should not rely on modern Summs and Systemes, but study the Fathers and Councils, and the more Primitive Learning. And this advice was occasioned by the indiscreet inferences made by very many Preachers out of Mr. Calvin's Doctrine concerning Predestination, Universal Redemption, the Irresistibility of God's Grace, and of some other knotty Points depending upon these; Points which many think were not, but by Interpreters forc'd to be Mr. Calvin's meaning; of the truth or falsehood of which I pretend not to have an ability to judge; my meaning in this Relation being only to acquaint the Reader with the occasion of the King's Letter.

It may be observ'd, that the various accidents of this year did afford our Proctor large and laudable matter to dilate and discourse upon: And, that though his Office seem'd, according to Statute and Custom, to require him to do so at his leaving it; yet he chose rather to pass them over with some very short Observations, and present the Governors, and his other Hearers, with rules to keep up Discipline and Order in the University; which at that time was either by defective Statutes, or want of the due execution of those that were good, grown to b… extreamly irregular. And in this year also, the Magisterial part of the Proctor required more diligence, and was more difficult to be managed than formerly, by reason of a multiplicity of new Statu…e…, which begot much confusion; some of which Statutes were then and not till then, and others suddenly after, put into an useful execution. And though these Statutes were not then made so perfectly useful, as they were design'd, till Archbishop Laud's time (who assisted in the forming and promoting them;) yet, our present Proctor made them as effectual as discretion and diligence could do: Of which one Example may seem worthy the noting, namely, That if in his Night-walk he met with irregular Scholars absent from their Colleges at University hours, or disordered by drink, or in scandalous company, he did not use his power of punishing to an Extremity; but did usually take their names, and a promise to appear before him unsent for next morning: And when they did, convinced them with such obligingness, and reason added to it, that they parted from him with such resolutions as the man after God's own heart was possest with, when he said to God, There is mercy with thee, and therefore thou shalt be feared. And by this, and a like behaviour to allPsal▪ 13…Ps 13 p. 9men, he was so happy as to lay down this dangerous imployment, as but very few, if any have done, even without an Enemy.

After his Proctors Speech was ended, and he retir'd with a Friend into a convenient privacy; he look'd upon his Friend with a more than common chearfulness, and spake to him to this purpose. I look back upon my late imployment with some content to my self, and a great thankfulness to Almighty God, that he hath made me of a temper not apt to provoke the meanest of mankind, but rather to pass by Infirmities, if noted; and in this Imployment I have had (God knows) many occasions to do both. And when I consider how many of a contrary temper, are by sudden and small occasions transported, and hurried by Anger to commit such Errors, as they in that passion could not foresee, and will in their more calm and deliberate thoughts upbraid, and require repentance! And consider, that though Repentance secures us from the punishment of any sin, yet how much more comfortable it is to be innocent, than need pardon: And consider, that Errors against men, though pardon'd both by God and them, do yet leave such anxious and upbraiding impressions in the memory, as abates of the Offender's content: When I consider all this, and that God hath of his goodness given me a temper that he hath prevented me from running into such enormities, I remember my temper with joy and thankfulness. And though I cannot say with David (I wish I could) that therefore hisPsalm 130.Ps 130 praise shall always be in my mouth; yet I hope, that by his grace, and that grace seconded by my endeavours, it shall never be blotted out of my memory; and I now beseech Almighty God that it never may.

And here I must look back, and mention one passage more in his Proctorship, which is; That Gilbert Shelden, the late Lord Archbishop of Canterbury, was this year sent to Trinity College in that University; and not long after his entrance there, a Letter was sent after him from his Godfather (the Father of our Proctor) to let his Son know it, and commend his God-son to his acquaintance, and to a more than common care of his behaviour; which prov'd a pleasing injunction to our Proctor, who was so gladly obedient to his Fathers desire, that he some few days after sent his Servitor to intreat Mr. Shelden to his Chamber next morning. But it seems Mr. Shelden having (like a young man as he was) run into some such irregularity as made him conscious he had transgressed his Statutes, did therefore apprehend the Proctor's invitation as an introduction to punishment; the fear of which made his Bed restless p. 10that night; but at their meeting the next morning, that fear vanish'd immediately by the Proctor's chearful countenance, and the freedom of their discourse of Friends. And let me tell my Reader, that this first meeting prov'd the begining of as spiritual a friendship as humane nature is capable of; of a friendship free from all self-ends: and it continued to be so, till death forc'd a separation of it on earth; but 'tis now reunited in Heaven.

And now, having given this account of his behaviour, and the considerable accidents in his Proctorship, I proceed to tell my Reader, that this busie employment being ended, he preach'd his Sermon for his degree of Batchelor in Divinity, in as eligant Latin, and as remarkable for the method and matter, as hath been preached in that University since that day. And having well performed his other Exercises for that degree, he took it the nine and twentieth of May following, having been ordained Deacon and Priest in the year 1611. by Iohn King, then Bishop of London, who had not long before been Dean of Christ-Church, and then knew him so well, that he own'd it at his Ordination, and became his more affectionate Friend. And in this year, being then about the 29th of his Age, he took from the University a Licence to preach.

In the year 1618. he was by Sir Nicholas Sanderson, Lord Viscount Castleton, presented to the Rectory of Wibberton, not far from Boston in the County of Lincoln, a Living of very good value; but it lay in so low and wet a part of that Countrey, as was inconsistent with his health. And health being (next to a good Conscience) the greatest of God's blessings in this life, and requiring therefore of every man a care and diligence to preserve it; and he, apprehending a danger of losing it if he continued at Wibberton a second Winter, did therefore resign it back into the hands of his worthy Kinsman and Patron, about one year after his donation of it to him.

And about this time of his resignation he was presented to the Rectory of Boothby Pannel in the same County of Lincoln; a Town which has been made famous, and must continue to be famous, because Dr. Sanderson, the humble and learned Dr. Sanderson, was more than forty years Parson of Boothby Pannel, and from thence dated all or most of his matchless Writings.

To this Living (which was of less value, but a purer Air p. 11then Wibberton) he was presented by Thomas Harrington of the same County and Parish, Esq a Gentleman of a very ancient Family, and of great use and esteem in his Country during his whole life. And in this Boothby Pannel the meek and charitable Dr. Sanderson and his Patron liv'd with an endearing, mutual, and comfortable friendship, till the death of the last put a period to it.

About the time that he was made Parson of Boothby Pannel, he resign'd his Fellowship of Lincoln Colledge unto the then Rector and Fellows; And his resignation is recorded in these words.

Ego Robertus Sanderson per, &c.

I Robert Sanderson, Fellow of the Colledge of St. Maries and All-Saints, commonly call'd Lincoln Colledge, in the University of Oxford, do freely and willingly resign into the hands of the Rector and Fellows, all the Right and Title that I have in the said Colledge, wishing to them and their Successors, all peace, and piety, and happiness, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.

Amen.

May 6. 1619. Robert Sanderson.

And not long after this Resignation, he was by the then Bishop of York, (or the King, Sede vacante,) made Prebend of the Collegiate Church of Southwell in that Diocess; and shortly after of Lincoln by the Bishop of that See.

And being now resolv'd to set down his rest in a quiet privacy at Boothby Pannel, and looking back with some sadness upon his removal from his general and chearful Acquaintance left in Oxford, and the peculiar pleasures of a University life; he could not but think the want of Society would render this of a Country Parson still more uncomfortable, by reason of that want of conversation; and therefore he did put on some faint purposes to marry. For he had considered, that though marriage be cumbred with more worldly care than a single life; yet a complying and prudent Wife, changes those very cares into so mutual Joys, as makes them become like the Sufferings of St. Paul, which he would not have wanted, becauseColos. 1. 24.Col 1:24 p. 12they occasion'd his rejoycing in them. And he having well considered this, and observ'd the secret unutterable joys that Children beget in Parents, and the mutual pleasures and contented trouble of their daily care and constant endeavours to bring up those little Images of themselves, so, as to make them as happy as all those cares and endeavours can make them: He, having considered all this; the hopes of such happiness turn'd his faint purpose into a positive resolution to marry. And he was so happy as to obtain Anne, the Daughter of Henry Nelson Batchelor in Divinity, then Rector of Haugham in the County of Lincoln (a man of noted worth and learning.) And the giver of all good things was so good to him, as to give him such a Wife as was sutable to his own desires; a Wife, that made his life happy by being always content when he was chearful; that was always chearful when he was content; that divided her joys with him, and abated of his sorrow, by bearing a part of that burthen; a Wife, that demonstrated her affection by a chearful obedience to all his desires, during the whole course of his life; and at his death too; for she out-liv'd him.

And in this Boothby Pannel he either found or made his Parishoners peaceable, and complying with him in the constant, decent, and regular service of God. And thus his Parish, his Patron and he liv'd together in a religious love, and a contented quietness: He not troubling their thoughts by preaching high and useless notions, but such, and only such plain truths as were necessary to be known, believed, and practised in order to the honour of God and their own salvation. And their assent to what he taught was testified by such a conformity to his Doctrine, as declared they believed and loved him. For it may be noted he would often say, That without the last, the most evident truths (heard as from an Enemy, or an evil liver) either are not, (or are at least the less) effectual; and usually rather harden, than convince the hearer.

And this excellent man, did not think his Duty discharged by only reading the Church-Prayers, Catechizing, Preaching, and administring the Sacraments seasonably; but thought (if the Law, or the Canons may seem to injoyn no more, yet) that God would require more than the defective Laws of man's making, can or does injoyn; even the performance of that inward Law, which Almighty God hath imprinted in the Conscience of all good Christians, and inclines those whom he loves to perform. He considering this, did therefore p. 13become a Law to himself, practising not only what the Law injoyns, but what his Conscience told him was his Duty, in reconciling differences, and preventing Law-suits, both in his Parish and in the Neighbourhood. To which may be added his often visiting sick and disconsolate Families, perswading them to patience, and raising them from dejection by his advice and chearful discourse, and by adding his own Alms, if there were any so poor as to need it; considering how acceptable it is to Almighty God, when we do as we are advis'd by St. Paul, help to bear one anothers burthen, either of sorrow or want: andGal. 6. 2…Gal 6:2 what a comfort it will be, when the Searcher of all hearts shall call us to a strict account as well for that evil we have done, as the good we have omitted; to remember we have comforted and been helpful to a dejected or distressed Family.

And that his practice was to do good, the following Narrative may be one Example, He met with a poor dejected Neighbour that complain'd he had taken a Meadow, the Rent of which was 9 l. a year; and when the Hay was made ready to be carried into his Barn, several days constant rain had so raised the water, that a sudden Flood carried all away, and his rich Landlord would bate him no Rent; and that unless he had half abated, he and seven Children were utterly undone. It may be noted, That in this Age there are a sort of people so unlike the God of mercy, so void of the bowels of pity, that they love only themselves and children; love them so, as not to be concern'd, whether the rest of mankind waste their days in sorrow or shame; People that are curst with riches, and a mistake that nothing but riches can make them and theirs happy. But 'twas not so with Dr. Sanderson; for he was concern'd, and spoke comfortably to the poor dejected man; bade him go home and pray, and not load himself with sorrow, for he would go to his Landlord next morning, and if his Landlord would not abate what he desired, he and a Friend would pay it for him.

To the Landlord he went the next day; and in a conference the Doctor presented to him the sad condition of his poor dejected Tenant; telling him how much God is pleas'd when men compassionate the poor: and told him, That though God loves Sacrifice, yet he loves Mercy so much better, that he is best pleas'd when he is call'd the God of mercy: And told him the riches he was possest of were given him by that God of mercy, who would not be pleas'd, if he that had so much given, p. 14yea, and forgiven him to, should prove like the rich Steward in the Gospel, that took his fellow servant by the throat to make him pay the utmost farthing. This he told him. And told him, That the Law of this Nation (by which Law he claims his Rent) does not undertake to make men honest or merciful; (that was too nice an undertaking:) but does what it can to restrain men from being dishonest or unmerciful, and yet that our Law was defective in both: and that taking any Rent from his poor Tenant, for what God suffered him not to enjoy, though the Law allowed him to do so, yet if he did so, he was too like that rich Steward which he had mention'd to him; and told him that riches so gotten, and added to his great Estate, would, as Iob says, prove like gravel in his teeth; would in time so corrode his Conscience, or become so nauseous when he lay upon his Death-bed, that he would then labour to vomit it up, and not be able: and therefore advis'd him (being very rich,) to make Friends of his unrighteous Mammon, before that evil day come upon him: But however, neither for his own sake, nor for God's sake, to take any Rent of his poor dejected sad Tenant, for that were to gain a temporal, and lose his eternal happiness. These and other such reasons, were urged with so grave and so compassionate an earnestne…s, that the Landlord forgave his Tenant the whole Rent.

The Reader will easily believe that Dr. Sanderson, who was himself so meek and merciful, did suddenly and gladly carry this comfortable news to the dejected Tenant; and will believe also, that at the telling of it there was a mutual rejoycing. 'TwasIob 31.Job 31 one of Iob's boasts, That he had seen none perish for want of cloathing: and that he had often made the heart of the widow to rejoyce. And doubtless Dr. Sanderson might have made the same religious boast of this, and very many like occasions: But since he did not, I rejoyce that I have this just occasion to do it for him; and that I can tell the Reader, I might tire my self and him in telling how like the whole course of Dr. Sanderson's Life was to this which I have now related.

Thus he went on in an obscure and quiet privicy, doing good daily both by word and by deed, as often as any occasion offered it self; yet not so obscurely, but that his very great Learning, Prudence and Piety were much noted and valued by the Bishop of his Diocess, and by most of the Nobility and Gentry of that County. By the first of which he was often summon'd to preach many Visitation Sermons, and by the p. 15latter at many Assises. Which Sermons, though they were much esteemed by them that procured and were …it to judge them; yet they were the less …alu'd, because he read them, which he was forc'd to do; for though he had a… extraordinary memory (even the Art of i…) yet he was punish'd with such an innate, invincible feare and …, that his memory was wholly useless, as to ▪the repetition of his Sermons, so as he had …it them; which gave occasion to say, when some of them were first printed and exposed to censure, (which was in the year 1632.) That the best Sermons that were ever re…, were never preach'd.

In this contented obscurity he continued, …ill the learned and pious Archbishop L…ud, who knew him well in Oxford (for he was his contemporary there) told the King ('twas the knowing and conscientious King Charles the I.) that there was one Mr. Sanderson, an obscure Country Minister, that was of such sincerity, and so excellent in all Casuistical Learning, that he desired his Majesty would take so much notice of him as to make him his Chaplain. The King granted it most willingly, and gave the Bishop charge to hasten it, for he long'd to discourse with a Man that had dedicated his Studies to that useful part of learning. The Bishop forgot not the King's desire, and Mr. Sanderson was made his Chaplain in Ordinary in November following, (1631.) And when the King and he became better known to each other, then, as …s said, that after many hard Questions put to the Prophet Daniel, King Darius found* an excellent Dan. ….Spirit in him; so 'twas with Mr. Sanderson and our Excellent King; who having put many Cases of Conscience to him, received from Mr. Sanderson such deliberate, safe, and clear Solutions, as gave him so great content in conversing with him, (which he did several times in private.) That at the end of his months Attendance the King told him: He should long for the next November; for he resolv'd to have a more inward Acquaintance with him, when that month and he return'd. And when the month and he did return, the good King was never absent from his Sermons, and would usually say, I carry my ears to hear other Preachers, but I carry my Conscience to hear Mr. Sanderson, and to act accordingly: And this ought not to be conceal'd from Posterity, That the King thought what he spake: For he took him to be his Adviser in that quiet part of his life, and he prov'd to be his Comforter in those days of his affliction, when he was under such a restraint as he apprehended himself to be in danger of Death or Deposing. Of which more hereafter.

p. 16In the first Parliament of this good King (which was 1625. he was chosen to be a Clerk of the Convocation for the Diocess of Lincoln, which I here mention, because about that time did arise many disputes about Predestination, and the many Critical Points that depend upon, or are interwoven in it; occasion'd, as was said, by a disquisition of new Principles of Mr. Calvin's (though others say they were long before his time.) But of these Dr. Sanderson then drew up for his own satisfaction such a Scheme (he call'd it Pax Ecclesia) as then gave himself, and hath since given others such satisfaction, that it still remains to be of great estimation. He was also chosen Clerk of all the Convocations during that good Kings reign. Which I here tell my Reader, because I shall hereafter have occasion to mention that Convocation in 1640. that unhappy long Parliament, and some debates of the Predestinarian Points, as they have been since charitably handled betwixt him, the learned Dr. Hammond, and Dr. Pierce, the now reverend Dean of Salisbury. And here the Reader may note, that in Letters writ to the said Dean, Dr. Sanderson seems to have alter'd his Judgment in some Points, since he writ his Scheme called Pax Ecclesia, which he seems to say in his last Will, besides other reasons to think so.

In the year 1636. his Majesty then in his Progress took a fair occasion to visit Oxford, and to take an entertainment for two days for himself and his honourable Attendants, which the Reader ought to believe was sutable to their dignities: But, this is mention'd, because at the King's coming thither May 3. Sanderson did then attend him; and was then (the 31 of August) created Doctor of Divinity; which honor had an addition to it, by having many of the Nobility of this Nation then made Doctors and Masters of Art with him: Some of whose names shall be recorded and live with his (and none shall out-live it.) First Dr. Curle and Dr. Wren, who were then Bishops of Winton and of Norwich (and had formerly taken their Degrees in Cambridge) were with him created Doctors of Divinity in his University. So was Merick the Son of the learned Izaac Causabon; and Prince Rupert (who still lives) the then Duke of Lenox, Earl of Hereford, Earl of Essex, of Barkshire, and very many others of noble Birth (too many to be named) were then created Masters of Arts.

Some years before the unhappy long Parliament, this Nation being then happy and in peace (though inwardly sick of being well) namely in the year 1639. a discontented party of the Scots Church were zealously restless for another Reformation of their p. 17K…rk Government; and to that end created a new Covenant, for the general taking of which they pretended to petition the King for his assent, and that he would enjoyn the taking of it by all of that Nation: but this Petition was not to be presented to him by a Committee of eight or ten men of their Fraternity, but by so many thousands, and they so arm'd, as seem'd to force an assent to what they seem'd but to request; so that though forbidden by the King, yet they entred England, and in their heat of Zeal took and plunder'd New-Castle, where the King was forc'd to meet them with an Army; but upon a Treaty and some concessions, he sent them back (though not so rich as they intended, yet) for that time without blood-shed: But oh! this Peace and this Covenant were but the forerunners of War, and the many miseries that follow'd: For in the year following there were so many chosen into the long Parliament, that were of a conjunct Council with these very zealous, and as factious Reformers, as begot such a confusion by the several desires & designs in many of the Members of that Parliament (all did never consent) and at last in the very common People of this Nation, that they were so lost by contrary designs, fears and confusions, as to believe the Scots and their Covenant would restore them to that former tranquility which they had lost. And to that end, the Presbyterian Party of this Nation did again, in the year 1643. invite the Scotch Covenanters back into England▪ and hither they came marching with it gloriously upon their Pikes, and in their Hats with this Motto, For the Crown and Covenant of both Kingdoms, This I saw and suffer'd by it. But when I look back upon the ruine of Families, the bloodshed, the decay of common honesty, and how the former piety and plain-dealing of this now sinful Nation is turn'd into cruelty and cunning! when I consider this, I praise God that he prevented me from being of that Party which help'd to bring in this Covenant, and those sad confusions that have follow'd it. And I have been the bolder to say this of my self, because in a sad discourse with Dr. Sanderson, I heard him make the like grateful acknowledgment.

This digression is intended for the better information of the Reader in what will follow concerning Dr. Sanderson. And first, That the Covenanters of this Nation, and their Party in Parliament, made many Exceptions against the Common-Prayer and Ceremonies of the Church, and seem'd restless for another Reformation: And though their desires seem'd not reasonable to the King and the learn'd Dr. Laud, then Archbishop of Canterbury; p. 18and many others; yet to quiet their Consciences, and prevent future confusion; they did in the year 1641. desire Dr. Sanderson to call two more of the Convocation to advise with him, and that he would then draw up some such safe alterations as he thought fit in the Service-Book, and abate some of the Ceremonies that were least material, for satisfying their consciences▪ and to this end he and two others did meet together privately twice a week at the Dean of Westminster's House, (for the space of five months or more.) But not long after that time, when Dr. Sanderson had made the Reformation ready for a view, the Church and State were both fall'n into such a confusion, that Dr. Sanderson's Model for Reformation became then useless. Nevertheless the Repute of his Moderation and Wisdom was such, that he was in the year 1642. propos'd by both Houses of Parliament to the King then in Oxford, to be one of their Trustees for the settling of Church affairs, and was allowed of by the King to be so; but that Treaty came to nothing.

In the year 1643. the two Houses of Parliament took upon them to make an Ordinance, and call an Assembly of Divines, to debate and settle Church-controversies (of which many that were elected were very unfit to judge:) in which Dr. Sanderson was also named by the Parliament, but did not appear, I suppose for the same reason that many other worthy and learned men did forbear, the Summons wanting the King's Authority.

And here I must look back and tell the Reader, that in the year 1642. he was (Iuly 21.) named by a more undoubted Authority to a more noble imployment, which was to be Professor Regius of Divinity in Oxford; but though Knowledge be said to puff up, yet his modesty and too mean an opinion of his great Abilities, and some other real or pretended reasons (exprest in his Speech, when he first appear'd in the Chair, and since printed) kept him from entring into it till October 1646.

He did for about a years time continue to read his matchless Lectures, which were first de Iuramento, a Point very Seraphical, and as difficult, and at that time very dangerous to be handled as it ought to be. But this learned man, as he was eminently furnished with Abilities to satisfie the Consciences of men upon that important Subject; so he wanted not courage to assert the true obligation of it, and Oaths, in a degenerate Age, when men had made perjury a main part, or at least very useful to their Religion. How much the learned World p. 19stands obliged to him for these and his following Lectures de Conscientia, I shall not attempt to declare, as being very sensible that the best Pens fall short in the commendation of them: So that I shall only add, That they continue to this day, and will do for ever, as a complete standard for the resolution of the most material doubts in that part of …asuistical Divinity: And therefore I proceed to tell the Reader, That about the time of his reading those Lectures (the King being then Prisoner in the Iste of Wight) that part of the Parliament then at Westminster sent the Covenant, the Negative Oath, and I know not what more to Oxford, to be taken by the Doctor of the Chair, and all Heads of Houses: and all the other in…eriour Scholars of what degree soever, were also to take these Oaths by a fixed day; for those that did not were to abandon their Colledges and the University too, within 24 hours after the beating of a Drum; And if they remain'd longer, they were to be proceeded against as Spies.

Dr. Laud the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Earl of Strafford, and many others, had been formerly murthered, but the King yet was not; and the University had yet some faint hopes that in a Treaty then in being, betwixt him and them that confined him, or pretended to be suddenly, there might be such an Agreement made, that the Dissenters in the University might both preserve their Consciences, and the poor Subsistance which they then enjoyed by their Colledges.

And being possess'd of this mistaken hope, That the men in present Power were not yet grown so merciless, as not to allow manifest reason for their not submitting to the enjoyn'd Oaths, the University appointed twenty Delegates to meet, consider, and draw up a Manifesto to them, why they could not take those Oaths but by violation of their Consciences: And of these Delegates Dr. Shelden (late Archbishop of Canterbury) Dr. Hammond, Dr. Sanderson, Dr. Morley (now Bishop of Winchester) and that most honest, very learned, and as judicious Civil Lawyer, Dr. Zouch, were a part; the rest I cannot now name; but the whole number of the Delegates requested Dr. Zouch to draw up the Law part, and give it to Dr. Sanderson, and he was requested to methodize and add what referr'd to Reason and Conscience, and put it into form. He yielded to their desires, and did so. And then after they had been read in a full Convocation, and allow'd of, they were printed in Latin, that the Parliaments proceedings and the Universities sufferings might be manifested to all Nations; p. 20and the Imposers of these Oaths might repent, or answer them: but they were past the first; and for the latter, I might swear they neither can, nor ever will. And these reasons were also suddenly turn'd into English by Dr. Sanderson, that all those of these three Kingdoms might the better judge of the cause of the Loyal Parties sufferings.

About this time the Independants (who were then grown to be the most powerful part of the Army) had taken the King from a close to a more large imprisonment, and by their own pretences to liberty of Conscience, were obliged to allow somewhat like that to the King, (who had in the year 1646. sent for Dr. Sanderson, Dr. Hammond, Dr. Sheldon (the late Archbishop of Canterbury) and Dr. Morley (the now Bishop of Winchester) to attend him, in order) to advise with them, how far he might with a good Conscience comply with the Proposals of the Parliament for a Peace in Church and State; but these having been then denied him by the Presbyterian Parliament, were now by their own rules allow'd him by those Independants now in present power. And with some of those Divines, Dr. Sanderson also gave his attendance on his Majesty in the Isle of Wight; preach'd there before him, and had in that attendance many, both publick and private Conferences with him, to his Majesties great satisfaction. At which time he desired Dr. Sanderson, that being the Parliament had then propos'd to him the abolishing of Episcopal Government in the Church, as inconsistant with Monarchy, and selling theirs and the Cathedral Church-Land to pay those Soldiers that they had rais'd to fight against him, that he would consider of it, and declare his judgment: He undertook to do so, and did it; but it might not be printed till our King's happy restoration, and then it was. And at Dr. Sanderson's then taking his leave of his Majesty in this his last attendance on him, the King requested him to betake himself to the writing Cases of Conscience for the good of Posterity. To which his answer was, That he was now grown old, and unfit to write Cases of Conscience. But the King was so bold with him as to say; It was the simplest answer he ever heard from Dr. Sanderson; for no young man was fit to be made a Iudge, or write Cases of Conscience. And let me here take occasion to tell the Reader this truth, very fit, but not commonly known; that in one of these Conferences this Conscientious King was told by a faithful and private Intelligencer, that if he assented not to the Parliaments Proposals, p. 21the Treaty 'twixt him and them would break immediately, and his life would then be in danger; he was sure he knew it. To which his answer was, I have done what I can to bring my Conscience to a complyance with their Proposals and cannot, and I will not lose my Conscience to save my Life; and within a very short time after, he told Dr. Sanderson and Dr. Morley, or one of them that then waited with him, That the remembrance of two Errors did much afflict him, which were, his assent to the Earl of Strafford's death, and the abolishing Episcopacy in Scotland; and that if God ever restored him to be in a peaceable possession of his Crown, he would demonstrate his Repentance by a publick Confession and voluntary Pennance (I think barefoot) from the Tower of London, or Whitehall, to St. Paul's Church, and desire the people to intercede with God for his pardon. I am sure one of them that told it me, lives still, and will witness it. And it ought to be observ'd, that Dr. Sanderson's Lectures de Iuramento were so approv'd and valu'd by the King, that in this time of his imprisonment and solitude, he translated them into exact Enlish, desiring Dr. Iuxson (then Bishop of London) Dr. Hammond, and Sir Thomas Herbert (who then attended him in his restraint) to compare them with the Original. The last still lives, and has declared it, with some other of that King's excellencies, in a Letter under his own hand, which was lately shew'd me by Sir William Dugdale, King at Arms. The translation was design'd to be put into the King's Library at St. Iames's, but I doubt, not now to be found there. I thought the honor of the Author and the Translator to be both so much concerned in this Relation, that it ought not to be concealed from the Reader, and 'tis therefore here inserted.

I now return to Dr. Sanderson in the Chair in Oxford, where they that comply'd not in taking the Covenant, Negative Oath, and Parliament Ordinance for Church Discipline and Worship, were under a sad and daily apprehension of Expulsion; for the Visiters were daily expected, and both City and University full of Soldiers, and a party of Presbyterian Divines, that were as greedy and ready to possess, as the ignorant and ill natur'd Visiters were to eject the Dissenters out of their Colledges and Livelyhoods: But notwithstanding Dr. Sanderson did still continue to read his Lecture, and did to the very faces of those Presbyterian Divines and Soldiers, read with so much reason, and with a calm fortitude make such applications, as if they were not, they ought to have been asham'd, and beg'd pardon of God and him, and forborn to do what follow'd. But these thriving sinners were p. 22hard'ned; and as the Visiters expell'd the Orthodox, they without scruple or shame, possest themselves immediately of their Colledges; so that with the rest, Dr. Sanderson was (in Iune 1648) forc'd to pack up and be gone, and thank God he was not imprison'd, as Dr. Shelden, Dr. Hammond, and others then were.

I must now again look back to Oxford, and tell my Reader, that the year before this expulsion, when the University had deny'd this Subscription, and apprehended the danger of that Visitation which followed, they sent Dr. Morley, then Canon of Christ-Church (now Lord Bishop of Winchester) and others, to petition the Parliament for re-calling the Injunction, or a mitigation of it, or to accept of their Reasons why they could not take the Oaths injoyn'd them; and the Petition was by Parliament referr'd to a Committee to hear and report the Reasons to the House, and a day set for hearing them. This done Dr. Morley and the rest went to inform & fee Counsel, to plead their Cause on the day appointed: but there had been so many committed for pleading, that none durst be so bold as to undertake it cordially; for at this time the priviledges of that part of the Parliament then sitting were become a Noli me tangere; as sacred and useful to them, as Traditions ever were, or are now to the Church of Rome; their number must never be known, and therefore not without danger to be meddled with. For which Reason Dr. Morley was forc'd, for want of Counsel, to plead the Universities Reasons for not complyance with the Parliaments injunctions; and though this was done with great reason, and a boldness equal to the Justice of his Cause, yet the effect of it was, but that he and the rest appearing with him were so fortunate, as to return to Oxford without commitment. This was some few days before the Visiters and more Soldiers were sent down to drive the Dissenters out of the University. And one that was at this time of Dr. Morley's pleading, a powerful man in the Parliament, and of that Committee, observing Dr. Morley's behaviour & reason, & inquiring of him, and hearing a good report of his Principles in Religion, and of his Morals, was therefore willing to afford him a peculiar favour; and that he might express it, sent for me that relate this Story, and knew Dr. Morley well, and told me, He had such a love for Dr. Morley, that knowing he would not take the Oaths, and must therefore he ejected his Colledge, and leave Oxford; he desir'd I would therefore write to him to ride out of Oxford when the Visiters came into it, and not return till they left it, and he should be sure then to return in safety; and that by so doing he should without taking any Oath or other molestation, p. 23enjoy his Canons place in the Colledge. I did receive this intended kindness with a sudden gladness, because I was sure the party had a power to do what he profest, and as sure he meant to perform it, and did therefore write the Doctor word; to which his Answer was, That I must not fail to return my Friend (who still lives) his humble and undissembled thanks, though he could not accept of his intended kindness; for when Dr. Fell (then the Dean) Dr. Gardner, Dr. Paine, Dr. Hammond, Dr. Sanderson, and all the rest of the Colledge, were turn'd out, except Dr. Wall, he should take it to be, if not a sin, yet a shame to be left behind with him only. Dr. Wall I knew, and will speak nothing of him, for he is dead.

It may be easily imagined, with what a joyful willingness these self-loving Reformers took possession of all vacant preferments, and with what reluctance others parted with their beloved Colledges and Subsistance: but their Consciences were dearer than both, and out they went; the Reformers possessing them without shame or scruple, where I will leave these Scruple-Mongers, and proceed to make an account of the then present Affairs of London, to be the next employment of my Readers patience.

And in London all the Bishops Houses were turn'd to be Prisons, and they fill'd with Divines that would not take the Covenant, or forbear reading Common-Prayer, or that were accus'd for some faults like these. For it may be noted, That about this time the Parliament sent out a Proclamation to incourage all Lay-men that had occasion to complain of their Ministers, for being troublesome or scandalous, or that conformed not to Orders of Parliament, to make their complaint to a select Committee for that purpose; and the Minister though one hundred miles from London, was to appear there and give satisfaction, or be sequestred; (and you may be sure no Parish could want a covetous, or malicious, or cross-grain'd complainant:) by which means all Prisons in London, and in many other places, became the sad habitations of Conforming Divines.

And about this time the Bishop of Canterbury having been by an unknown Law condemned to die, and the execution suspended for some days, many Citizens fearing time and cool thoughts might procure his Pardon, became so maliciously impudent as to shut up their shops, professing not to open them till Iustice was executed. This malice and madness is scarce credible, but I saw it.

The Bishops had been about this time voted out of the p. 24House of Parliament, and some upon that occasion sent to the Tower, which made many Covenanters rejoyce, and most of them to believe Mr. Brightman (who probably was a well meaning man) to be inspir'd when he writ his Comment on the Apocalyps; a short Abridgment of which was now printed, cryed up and down the Streets and call'd Mr. Brightman's Revelation of the Revelation, and both bought up and believ'd by all the Covenanters: And though he was grosly mistaken in other things, yet, because he had there made the Churches of Geneva and Scotland, (which had no Bishops) to be Philadelphia in the Apocalyps, that Angel that God loved; and the power of Prelacy to be Antichrist, the evil Angel, which the House of Commons had now so spued up, as never to recover their dignity: Therefore did those Covenanters rejoyce, approve, and applaud Mr. Brightman, for discovering and foretelling the Bishops downfal; so that they both rail'd at them, and at the same time rejoyc'd to buy good penny-worths of all their Land, which their Friends of the House of Commons, did afford both to themselves and them, as a reward for their zeal and diligent assistance to pull them down.

And the Bishops power being now vacated, the common people were made so happy, as that every Parish might choose their own Minister, and tell him when he did, and when he did not preach true Doctrine: and by this and the like means several Churches had several Teachers, that pray'd and preach'd for and against one another; and ingag'd their hearers to contend furiously for truths which they understood not; some of which I shall mention in what will follow.

I have heard of two men that in their discourse undertook to give a character of a third person; and one concluded he was a very honest man, for he was beholden to him; and the other that he was not, for he was not beholden to him. And something like this was in the designs both of the Covenanters and Independants (the last of which were now grown both as numerous and as powerful as the former:) for though they differ'd much in many Principles, and preach'd against each other, one making it a sign of being in the state of grace, if we were but zealous for the Covenant; and the other not: for we ought to buy and sell by a Measure, and to allow the same liberty of Conscience to others, which we by Scripture claim to our selves; and therefore not to force any to swear the Covenant contrary to their Consciences, and probably p. 25lose both their Livings and Liberties too. But though these differed thus in their conclusions, yet they both agreed in their practice to preach down Common Prayer, and get into the best sequestred Livings; and whatever became of the true Owners, their Wives and Children, yet to continue in them without the least scruple of Conscience.

They also made other strange Observations of Election, Reprobation, and Free-will, and the other Points Dependant upon these; such as the wisest of the common People were not fit to judge of: I am sure I am not, though I must mention some of them historically in a more proper place, when I have brought my Reader with me to Dr. Sanderson at Boothly Pannel.

And in the way thither I must tell him, That a very Covenanter and a Scot too, that came into England with this unhappy Covenant, was got into a good sequestred Living by the help of a Presbyterian Parish, which had got the true Owner out. And this Scotch Presbyterian being well setled in this good Living, began to reform the Church-yard, by cutting down a large Ewe Tree, and some other Trees that were an ornanament to the place, and very often a shelter to the Parishioners: and they excepting against him for so doing, were by him answered, That the Trees were his, and 'twas lawful for every man to use his one as he, and not as others thought fit. I have heard (but do not affirm it) That no action lies against him that is so wicked as to steal the winding-sheet from off a dead body after 'tis buried; and have heard the reason to be, because none were supposed to be so void of humanity; and, that such a Law would vilifie that Nation that would but suppose so vile a man to be born in it: I speak this because I would not suppose any man to do what this Covenanter did: And whether there were any Law against him I know not, but pity the Parish the less for turning out their legal Minister.

We have now overtaken Dr. Sanderson at Boothy Pannel, where he hop'd to have enjoy'd himself, though in a poor, yet in a quiet and desir'd privacy; but it prov'd otherwise: For all Corners of the Nation were fill'd with Covenanters, Confusion, Committee-men and Soldiers, defacing Monuments, breaking painted Glass Windows, and serving each other to their several ends, of Revenge, or Power, or Profit; and these Committee-men and Soldiers were most of them so possest with this Covenant, that they became like those that were p. 26infected with that dreadful Plague of Athens; the Plague of which Plague was, that they by it became maliciously restless to get into company, and to joy (so the Historian **Thuc idides.saith) when they had infected others, even those of their most beloved or nearest Friends or Relations; and so though there might be some of these Covenanters that were beguil'd, and meant well; yet such were the generality of them, and temper of the times, that you may be sure Dr. Sanderson, who though quiet and harmless, yet was an eminent Dissenter from them, could therefore not live peaceably; nor did he: For the Soldiers would appear, and visibly oppose and disturb him in the Church when he read Prayers, some of them pretending to advise him how God was to be serv'd more acceptably which he not approving, but continuing to observe order and decent behaviour in reading the Church Service they forc'd his Book from him, and tore it, expecting extemporary Prayers.

At this time he was advis'd by a Parliament-man of Power and note, that lov'd and valued him much, not to be strict in reading all the Common Prayer, but make some little variation, especially if the Souldiers came to watch him; for if he did, it might not be in the Power of him and his other Friends to secure him from taking the Covenant, or Sequestration for which Reasons he did vary somewhat from the strict Rules of the Rubrick. I will set down the very words of Confession which he us'd, as I have it under his own hand; and tell the Reader that all his other variations were as little, and very much like to this.

His Confession.

OAlmighty God and merciful Father, we thy unworthy Servants do with shame and sorrow confess, that we have all our life long gone astray out of thy ways like lost sheep; and that by following too much the vain devices and desires of our own hearts, we have grievously offended against thy holy Laws, both in thought, word, and deed▪ we have many times left undone those good duties, which we might and ought to have done; and we have many times done those evits, when w… might have avoided them, which we ought not to have done. We confess, O Lord, that there is no health at all, nor help in any Creature to relieve us; but all our hope is in thy mercy; whose justice we have by our sins p. 27so far provoked: have mercy therefore upon us, O Lord, have mercy upon us miserable offenders▪ spare up good God, … confession …, that we perish not; but according to thy gracious promise … declared unto mankind in Christ Iesus our Lord, Restore us upon our true Repentance into thy grace and favour. And grant, O most merciful Father, son his sake, that we henceforth study to serve and please thee by leading a godly righteous, and a sober Life, to the glory of thy holy Nam…, and the eternal comfort of our own Souls, through Iesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

In these and other provocations of rearing his Service Book, a Neighbour came on a Sunday, after the Evening Service was ended, to visit and condole with him for the affront offered by the Soldiers. To whom he spake withly a domposed patience, and said; God hath restored me to my desir'd pr…vicy with my Wife and Children, where I hop'd to have met with quietness; and it proves not so; but I will labour to be pleas'd, because God, on whom I depend, sees 'tis not …it for me to be quiet. I praise him that he hath by his grace prevented me from making shipwrack of a good Conscience to maintain me in a place **Doctor …f the Chair.of great reputation and profit: and though my condition be such, that I need the last; yet I submit: for God did not send me into this World to do my own, but suffer his Will, and I will obey it. Thus by a sublime depending on his wise and powerful, and pitiful Creator, he did chearfully submit to what God had appointed; still justifying the truth of that Doctrine and the reason of that Discipline which he had preach'd.

About this time that excellent Book of the King's Meditations in his Solitude was printed, and made publick; and Dr. Sanderson was such a lover of the Author, and so desirous that not this Nation only, but the whole world should see the character of him in that Book, and something of the cause for which he and many others then suffer'd, that he design'd to turn it into Latin: but when he had done half of it most excellently, his Friend Dr. Earle prevented him, by appearing to have done it, and printed the whole very well before him.

And about this time his dear and most intimate Friend, the learned Dr. Hammond, came to enjoy a quiet conversation and rest with him for some days at Boothby Pannel, and did so. And having formerly perswaded him to trust his excellent memory, and not read, but try to speak a Sermon as he had writ it. Dr. Sanderson became so compliant as to promise he would. And p. 28to that end they two went early the Sunday following to a Neighbour Minister, and requested to exchange a Sermon; and they did so. And at Dr. Sanderson's going into the Pulpit, he gave his Sermon (which was a very short one) into the hand of Dr. Hammond, intending to preach it as 'twas writ; but before he had preach'd a third part, Dr. Hammond (looking on his Sermon as written) observed him to be out, and so lost as to the Matter, especially the Method, that he also became afraid for him; for 'twas discernable to many of that plain Auditory: But when he had ended this short Sermon, as they two walked homeward, Dr. Sanderson said with much earnestness, Good Doctor give me my Sermon, and know, that neither you, nor any man living, shall ever perswade me to preach again without my Books. To which the reply was, Good Doctor be not angry; for if I ever perswade you to preach again without Book, I will give you leave to burn all the Books that I am Master of.

Part of the occasion of Doctor Hammond's visit was at this time, to discourse Dr. Sanderson about some Opinions, in which if they did not then, they had doubtless differ'd formerly; 'twas about those knotty Points, which are by the Learned call'd the Quinquarticular Controversie; of which I shall proceed, not to given any▪ Judgment (I pretend not to that) but some short Historical Account which shall follow.

There had been, since the unhappy Covenant was brought, and so generally taken in England, a liberty given or taken by many Preachers (those of London especially) to preach and be too positive in the Points of Universal Redemption, Predestination, and those other depending upon these. Some of which preach'd That all men were, before they came into this world, so predestinated to salvation or damnation, that 'twas not in their power to sin so, as to lose the first, nor by their most diligent endeavour to avoid the latter. Others, That 'twas not so; because then God could not be said to grieve for the death of a sinner, when he himself had made him so by an inevitable decree, before he had so much as a being in this world; affirming therefore, that man had some power left him to do the will of God, because he was advised to work out his salvation with fear and trembling; maintaining, that 'tis most certain every man can do what he can to be saved; and as certain that he that does what he can to be saved, shall never be damned: And yet many that affirmed this to be a truth, would yet confess, That that grace, which is but a perswasive offer, and left p. 29to us to receive or refuse; is not that grace which shall bring men to Heaven. Which truths, or untruths, or both, be they which they will, did upon these or the like occasions come to be searched into, and charitably debated betwixt Dr. Sanderson, Dr. Hammond, and Dr. Pierce (the now reverend Dean of Salisbury) of which I shall proceed to give some account, but briefly.

In the year 1648. the 52 London Ministers (then a Fraternity of Sion Colledge in that City) had in a printed Declaration aspers'd Dr. Hammond most heinously, for that he had in his Practical Catechism affirm'd, That our Saviour died for the sins of all mankind. To justifie which truth, he presently makes a charitable Reply (as 'tis now printed in his Works.) After which there were many Letters past betwixt the said Dr. Hammond, Dr. Sanderson, and Dr. Pierce, concerning God's grace and decrees. Dr. Sanderson was with much unwillingness drawn into this Debate; for he declared it would prove uneasie to him, who in his judgment of God's decrees, differ'd with Dr. Hammond (whom he reverenced and loved dearly) and would not therefore ingage himself in a Controversie, of which he could never hope to see and end: nevertheless they did all enter into a charitable disquisition of these said Points in several Letters, to the full satisfaction of the Learned; those betwixt Dr. Sanderson and Dr. Hammond being now printed in his Works▪ and for what past betwixt him and the learned Dr. Pierce, I refer my Reader to a Letter sent to me and annext to the end of this Relation.

I think the Judgment of Dr. Sanderson was by these Debates altered from what it was at his entrance into them; for in the year 1632, when his excellent Sermons were first printed in 4^o the Reader may on the Margent find some accusation of Arminius for false Doctrine; and find, that upon a review and reprinting those Sermons in folio in the year 1657. that accusation of Arminius is omitted. And the change of his judgment seems more fully to appear in his said Letter to Dr. Pierce. And let me now tell the Reader, which may seem to be perplex'd with these several affirmations of God's decrees before mentioned, that Dr. Hammond in a Postscript to the last Letter of his to Dr. Sanderson, says, God can reconcile his own contradictions, and therefore advises all men, as the Apostle does, to study mortification, and be wise to sobriety. And let me add further, that if these 52 Ministers of Sion Colledge p. 30were the occasion of the Debates in these Letters; they have, I think, been the occasion of giving an end to the Quinquarticular Controversie; for none have since undertaken to say more; but seem to be so wise, as to be content to be ignorant of the rest, till they come to that place, where the secrets of all hearts shall be laid open. And let me here tell the Reader also; that if the rest of mankind would, as Dr. Sanderson, not conceal their alteration of Judgment, but confess it to the honour of God and themselves; then, our Nation would become freer from pertinacious Disputes, and fuller of Recantations.

I am not willing to lead my Reader to Dr. Hammond and Dr. Sanderson where we left them together at Boothly Pannel, till I have look'd back to the long Parliament, the Society of Covenanters in Sion Colledge, and those others scattered up and down in London, and given some account of their proceedings and usage of the late learned Dr. Laud, then Archbishop of Canterbury, whose life seem'd to be sacrific'd, to appease the popular fury of that present time. And though I will forbear to mention the injustice of his death, and the barbarous usage of him, both at his Tryal and before it; yet my desire is, that what follows may be noted, because it does now, or may hereafter concern us; that is, to note, That in his last sad Sermon on the Scaffold at his death, he did (as our blessed Saviour advis'd his Disciples,) Pray for those that persecuted and despitefully used him. And not only pardon'd those Enemies; but passionately begg'd of Almighty God that he would also pardon them; and besought all the present beholders of this sad sight, that they would pardon and pray for him: But tho' he did all this, yet, he seem'd to accuse the Magistrates of the City, for not suppressing a sort of people whose malicious and furious Zeal, had so far transported them, and violated all modesty; that tho' they could not know, whether he were justly or unjustly condemned, were yet suffer'd to go visibly up and down to gather hands to a Petition, that the Parliament would hasten his Execution. And he having declar'd how unjustly he thought himself to be condemned, and accus'd for endeavouring to bring in Popery (for that was one of the Accusations for which he died) he declared with sadness, That the several Sects and Divisions then in England (which he had laboured to prevent) were now like to bring the Pope a far greater harvest, than he could ever have expected without them. And said, these Sects and Divisions introduce prophaneness p. 31under the cloak of… an imaginary Religion; and, that we have lost the substance of Religion by changing it into Opinion; and, that by these means the Church of… England, which all the Iesuits machinations could not ruine, was fall'n into apparent danger by those (Covenanters) which were his Accusers. To this purpose he spoke at his death: for which, and more to the same purpose, the Reader may view his last sad Sermon on the Scaffold. And 'tis here mentioned, because his dear Friend Dr. Sanderson seems to demonstrate the same fear of Popery in his two large and remarkable Prefaces before his two Volumes of Sermons; and seems also with much sorrow to say the same again in his last Will, made when he was and apprehended himself to be very near his death. And these Covenanters ought to take notice of it; and to remember, that by the late wicked War began by them, Dr. Sanderson was ejected out of the Professors Chair in Oxford; and that if he had continued in it (for he lived 14 years after) both the Learned of this and other Nations had been made happy by many remarkable Cases of Conscience, so rationally stated, and so briefly, so clearly, and so convincingly determin'd, that Posterity might have joyed and boasted, That Dr. Sanderson was born in this Nation, for the ease and benefit of all the Learned that shall be born after him: But, this benefit is so like time past, that they are both irrecoverably lost.

I should now return to Boothby Pannel where we left Dr. Hammond and Dr. Sanderson together, but neither can now be found there: For, the first was in his Journey to Londoni, and the second seiz'd upon the day after his Friends departure, and carried Prisoner to Lincoln, then a Garrison of the Parliaments. For the pretended reason of which Commitment, I shall give this following account.

There was one Mr. Clarke, (the Minister of Alington, a Town not many miles from Boothby Pannel,) who was an active man for the Parliament and Covenant; and one that, when Belvoire Castle (then a Garrison for the Parliament) was taken by a Party of the King's Soldiers, was taken in it, and made a Prisoner of War in Newark, (then a Garrison of the Kings;) a man so active and useful for his Party, that they became so much concern'd for his inlargement, that the Committee of Lincoln sent a Troop of Horse to seize and bring Dr. Sanderson a Prisoner to that Garrison; and they did so. And there he had the happiness to meet with many, that knew him so well as to reverence and treat him kindly; but told him, He must continue their Prisoner, till he should purchase his own inlargement by procuring an Exchange for Mr. Clarke then Prisoner in the King's Garrison of Newark. There were many Reasons given p. 28by the Doctor of the Injustice of his Imprisonment, and the Inequality of the Exchange, but all were uneffectual: For done it must be, or he continue a Prisoner. And in time done it was upon the following Conditions.

First, That Dr. Sanderson and Mr. Clarke being Exchanged, should live undisturb'd at their own Parishes; and if either were injur'd by the Soldiers of the contrary Party, the other having notice of it, should procure him a Redress, by having satisfaction made for his loss, or for any other injury; or if not, he to be us'd in the same kind by the other Party. Nevertheless, Dr. Sanderson could neither live safe, nor quietly, being several times plundered, and once wounded in three places; but he, apprehending the remedy might turn to a more intolerable burthen by impatience or complaining, forbore both: and possess'd his Soul in a contented quietness, without the least repining. But though he could not enjoy the safety he expected by this Exchange, yet by his Providence that can bring good out of evil, it turn'd so much to his advantage, that whereas his Living had been Sequestred from the Year 1644, and continued to be so till this time of his Imprisonment, he, by the Articles of War in this Exchange for Mr. Clarke, procur'd his Sequestration to be recall'd, and by that means injoy'd a poor but more contented subsistence for himself, his Wife and Children, till the happy Restauration of our King and Church.

In this time of his poor, but contented privacy of life, his Casuistical Learning, Peaceful Moderation and Sincerity, became so remarkable, that there were many that apply'd themselves to him for Resolution in perplext Cases of Conscience; some known to him, and many not; some requiring satisfaction by Conference, others by Letters; so many, that his life became almost as restless as their minds; yet—as St. Paul accounted himself a Debter to all men, so he, for he deny'd none. And if it be a truth which holy Mr. Herbert says, That all worldly joys seem less, when compared with shewing mercy, or doing kindnesses; then doubtless this Barnabas, this son of Consolation, Dr. Sanderson might have boasted for relieving so many restless and wounded Consciences; which, as Solomon says, are a burden that none can bear, though their fortitude may sustain their other Calamities: and if words cannot express the joy of a Conscience relieved from such restless Agonies; then Dr. Sanderson might rejoyce, that so many were by him so clearly and conscientiously satisfied; and would often praise God for that ability, and as often for the occasion; and, that God had inclin'd his heart to do it, to the meanest of any of those poor, but precious Souls, for which his Saviour vouchsafed to be Crucified.

p. 29Some of those very many Cases that were resolved by Letters, have been preserv'd and printed for the benefit of Posterity; as namely,

1. Of the Sabbath.

2. Marrying with a Recusant.

3. Of unlawful Love.

4. Of a Military life.

5. Of Scandal.

6. Of a Bond taken in the King's Name.

7. Of the Ingagement.

8. Of a rash Vow.

But many more remain in private hands, of which one is of Symony; and I wish the World might see it, that it might undeceive so many mistaken Patrons, who think they have discharg'd that great and dangerous trust, both to God and Man, if they take no money for a Living, though it may be parted with for other ends less justifiable, which I forbear to name.

And in this time of his retirement, when the common people were amaz'd and grown restless and giddy by the many falshoods, and misapplications of Truths frequently vented in Sermons, when they wrested the Scripture by challenging God to be of their party, and call'd upon him in their Prayers to patronize their Sacriledge and zealous Frenzies in this time, he did so compassionate the generality of this misled Nation, that though the Times threatned such an undertaking with danger; yet, he then hazarded his safety by writing the large and bold Preface now extant before his last 20 Sermons, (first Printed in the dangerous Year 1655.) In which there was such strength of Reason, with so powerful and clear convincing Applications made to the Nonconformists, as being read by one of those dissenting Brethren, who was possess'd of a good sequester'd Living, and with it such a spirit of Covetousness and Contradiction, as being neither able to defend his error, no yield to truth manifested (his Conscience having slept long and quietly in that Living) was yet at the reading of it so awakened, (for there is a Divine Power in reason) that after a conflict with the reason he had met, and the dammage he was to sustain if he consented to it (and being still unwilling to be so convinc'd, as to lose by being over-reason'd) he went in haste to the Bookseller of whom 'twas bought, threatned him, and told him in anger, he had sold a Book in which there was false Divinity; and that the Preface had upraided the Parliament, and many godly Ministers of that Party for unjust dealing.—To which his Reply was, ('twas Tim. Garthwaite) That 'twas not his Trade to judge of true or false Divinity, p. 34but to print and sell Books; and yet if he, or any Friend of his would write an Answer to it, and own it by setting his Name to it, he would print the Answer, and promote the selling of it.

About the time of his Printing this excellent Preface, I met him accidentally in London in sad-coloured Cloaths, and God knows, far from being costly: the place of our meeting was near to Little Britain, where we had been to buy a Book, which he then had in his hand: we had no inclination to part presently; and therefore turn'd to stand in a corner under a Penthouse (for it began to rain) and immediately the Wind rose, and the rain increased so much, that both became so inconvenient, as to force us into a cleanly house, where we had Bread, Cheese, Ale, and a Fire for our ready money. This rain and wind were so obliging to me, as to force our stay there for at least an hour, to my great content and advantage; for in that time he made to me many useful observations of the present Times with much clearness and conscientious freedom. I shall relate a part of them, in hope they may also turn to the advantage of my Reader.—He seem'd to lament, that the Parliament had taken upon them to abolish our Liturgy, to the grief and scandal of so many Devout and Learned Men, and the disgrace of those many Martyrs, who had seal'd the truth and necessary use of it with their Blood: and that no Minister was now thought godly that did not decry it; and, at least, pretend to make better Prayers ex tempore: and that they, and only they that could do so, prayed by the Spirit, and were godly; though in their Sermons they disputed; and evidently contradicted each other in their Prayers. And as he did dislike this, so he did most highly commend the Common-Prayer of the Church, saying, The Holy Ghost seem'd to assist the Composers: and, that the effect of a Constant use of it, would be, to melt and form the Soul into holy thoughts and desires: and, beget habits of Devotion.—This he said: and that the Collects were the most passionate, proper, and most elegant comprehensive expressions that any Language ever afforded; and that there was in them such Piety, and that, so interwoven with Instructions, that they taught us to know the Power, the Wisdom, the Majesty, and Mercy of God, and much of our Duty both to Him and our Neighbour; and that a Congregation behaving themselves reverently, and putting up to God these joynt and known desires for pardon of sins, and their praises for mercies receiv'd, could not but be more pleasing to God, than those raw unpremeditated expressions which many understood not, and to which many of the hearers could not say Amen.

And he then commended to me the frequent use of the Psalter or Psalms of David; speaking to this purpose, That they were the p. 35Treasury of Christian Comfort, fitted for all persons and all necessities; able to raise the Soul from dejection by the frequent mention of God's Mercies to repentant Sinners; able to stir up holy desires; to increase joy; to moderate sorrow; to nourish hope, and teach us patience, by waiting God's leisure for what we beg: able to beget a trust in the Mercy, Power, and Providence of our Creator; and to cause a resignation of our selves to his Will; and then (and not till then) to believe our selves happy. This he said the Liturgy and Psalms taught us; and that by the frequent use of the last they would not only prove to be our Souls comfort, but would become so habitual, as to transform them into the image of his Soul that composed them.—After this manner he express'd himself and sorrow, concerning the Liturgy and Psalms; and seem'd to lament that this, which was the Devotion of the more Primitive Times, should in common Pulpits be turn'd into needless debates about Free-will, Election, and Reprobation, of which, and many like Questions, we may be safely ignorant, because Almighty God intends not to lead us to Heaven by hard Questions, but by meekness and charity, and a frequent practice of Devotion.

And he seem'd to lament very much, that by the means of irregular and indiscreet Preaching, the generality of the Nation were possess'd with such dangerous mistakes, as to think, They might be religious first, and then just and merciful; that they might sell their Consciences, and yet have something left that was worth keeping; that they might be sure they were elected, though their Lives were visibly scandalous; that to be cunning was to be wise; that to be rich was to be happy, tho 'tis evidently false; that to speak evil of Government, and to be busie in things they understood not, was no sin. These, and the like mistakes, he lamented much, and besought God to remove them, and restore us to that humility, sincerity, and single-heartedness, with which this Nation was blest, before the unhappy Covenant was brought amongst us, and every Man preach'd and pray'd what seem'd best in his own eyes. And he then said to me, That the way to restore this Nation to a more meek and Christian temper, was to have the Body of Divinity (or so much of it as was needful to be known by the Common people) to be put into 52 Homilies, or Sermons, of such a length as not to exceed a third or fourth part of an hours reading; and these needful Points to be made so clear and plain, that those of a mean capacity might know what was necessary to be believed, and what God requires to be done; and then some plain applications of trial and conviction: and these to be read every Sunday of the Year, as infallibly as the blood circulates the body at a set time; and then as certainly begun again, and continued the Year following.

p. 36And, he explain'd the reason of this his desire, by saying to me,—All Grammer Scholars, that are often shifted, from one to another School, learn neither so much, nor their little so truly, as those that are constant to one good Master: because, by the several Rules of teaching in those several Schools, they learn less, and become more and more confus'd; and at last, so puzled and perplext, that their learning proves useless both to themselves and others. And so do the immethodical, useless, needless Notions that are delivered in many Sermons, make the hearers; but a clear and constant rule of teaching us, what we are to know, and do, and what not, and that taught us by an approv'd authority, might probably bring the Nation to a more Conscientious practice of what we know, and ought to do. Thus did this Prudent Man explain the reason of this his desire: and oh! that he had undertaken what he advis'd; for then, in all probability it wou'd have prov'd so useful, that the present Age wou'd have been blest by it: and, Posterity wou'd have blest him for it.

And at this happy time of my enjoying his company and this discourse, he express'd a sorrow by saying to me, O that I had gone Chaplain to that excellently Accomplish'd Gentleman, your Friend, Sir Henry Wootton! which was once intended, when he first went Ambassador to the State of Venice: for by that Imployment I had been forc'd into a necessity of conversing, not with him only, but with several Men of several nations; and might thereby have kept my self from my unmanly bashfulness, which has prov'd very troublesome, and not less inconvenient to me; and which I now fear is become so habitual as never to leave me: and besides, by that means I might also have known, or at least have had the satisfaction of seeing one of the late Miracles of Mankind, for general Learning, Prudence, and Modesty, Sir Henry Wootton's dear Friend, Padre Paulo, who, the Author of his Life says, was born with a bashfulness as invincible, as I have found my own to be: A man whose fame must never die, till Vertue and Learning shall become so useless as not to be regarded.

This was a part of the benefit I then had by that hours conversation: and I gladly remember and mention it, as an Argument of my happiness, and his great humility and condescention. I had also a like advantage by another happy Conference with him, which I am desirous to impart in this place to the Reader. He lamented much, that in those times of Confusion many Parishes, where the maintenance was not great, there was no Minister to officiate; and that many of the best Sequestred Livings were possess'd with such rigid Covenanters as denied the Sacrament to their Parishioners, unless upon such conditions, and in such a manner as they could not with a good Conscience take it: This he p. 37mentioned with much sorrow, saying, The blessed Sacrament did, even by way of preparation for it, give occasion to all conscientious Receivers to examine the performance of their Vows, since they received that last seal for the pardon of their sins past; and also to examine and research their hearts, and make penitent reflections on their failings; and that done to bewail them seriously, and then make new Vows or Resolutions to obey all God's Commands better, and beg his grace to perform them. And that this being faithfully done, then the Sacrament repairs the decays of grace, helps us to conquer infirmities, gives us grace to beg God's grace, and then gives us what we beg; makes us still hunger and thirst after his righteousness, which we then receive, and being assisted with our own endeavours, will still so dwell in us, as to become our Sanctification in this life, and our comfort on our last Sick-beds. The want of this blessed benefit he lamented much and pitied their condition that desired, but could not obtain it,

I hope I shall not disoblige my Reader, if I here inlarge into a further Character of his person and temper. As first, That he was moderately tall; his behaviour had in it much of a plain comliness, and very little (yet enough) of ceremony or courtship; his looks and motion manifested an indearing affability and mildness, and yet he had with these a calm, and so matchless a fortitude, as secur'd him from complying with any of those many Parliament Injunctions, that interfer'd with a doubtful Conscience. His Learning was methodical and exact; his Wisdom useful; his Integrity visible; and his whole life so unspotted, so like the Primitive Christians, that all ought to be preserved as Copies for Posterity to write after; the Clergy especially; who with impure hands ought not to offer Sacrifice to that God, whose pure Eyes abhor iniquity; and, especially in them.

There was in his Sermons no improper Rhetorick, nor such perplex'd divisions, as may be said to be like too much light, that so dazles the eyes that the sight becomes less perfect: But in them there was no want of useful matter, nor waste of words; and yet such clear distinctions as dispell'd all confus'd Notions, and made his hearers depart both wiser, and more confirm'd in vertuous Resolutions.

His Memory was so matchless and firm, as 'twas only overcome by his bashfulness: for he alone, or to a Friend, could repeat all the Odes of Horace, all Tully's Offices and much of Iuvenal and Persius without Book; and would say, The repitition of one of the Odes of Horace to himself, (which he did often) was to him such Musick, as a Lesson on the Viol was to others, when they play'd it voluntarily to themselves or Friends. And though he was blest with a p. 38clearer Judgment then other men; yet he was so distrustful of it, that he did usually over-consider of consequences, and would so delay and reconsider what to determine, that though none ever determin'd better, yet, when the Bell toll'd for him to appear and read his Divinity Lectures in Oxford, and all the Scholars attended to hear him, he had not then, or not till then, resolv'd and writ what he meant to determine; so that that appear'd to be a truth, which his old dear Friend Dr. Sheldon would often say of him, namely, That his judgment was so much superiour to his fancy, That whatsoever this suggested, that dislik'd and controul'd; still considering and reconsidering, till his time was so wasted, that he was forc'd to write, not (probably) what was best, but what he thought last. And yet what he did then read, appear'd to all hearers to be so useful, clear, and satisfactory, as none ever determin'd with greater applause.

These tiring and perplexing thoughts begot in him some averseness to enter into the toyl af considering and determining all Casuistical Points; because during that time they neither gave rest to his Body or Mind. But though he would not suffer his Mind to be always loden with these knotty Points and Distinctions; yet the study of old Records, Genealogies, and Heraldry, were a recreation, and so pleasing, that he would say they gave a pleasant rest to his mind. Of the last of which I have seen two remarkable Volumes; and the Reader needs neither to doubt their truth or exactness.

And this holy humble Man had so conquer'd all repining and ambitious thoughts, and with them all other unruly passions, that, if the accidents of the day prov'd to his danger or dammage, yet he both began and ended it with an even and undisturbed quietness: always praising God that he had not withdrawn food and raiment from him and his poor Family; nor suffered him in the times of tryal to violate his Conscience for his safety, or to support himself or them in a more splendid or plentiful condition; and that he therefore resolv'd with David, That his praise should be always in his mouth.

I have taken a content in giving my Reader this Character of his Person, his Temper, and some of the Accidents of his life past; and much more might be added of all: But I will with sorrow look forward to the sad days, in which so many good Men, Clergy-men especially, were sufferers; namely, about the Year 1658. at which time Dr. Sanderson was in a very pitiful condition as to his Estate: And in that time Mr. Robert Boyle (a Gentleman of a very Noble Birth, and more Eminent for his Liberality, Learning and Vertue,) and of whom I would say much p. 39more, but that he still lives) having casually met with, and read his Lectures de Iuramento, to his great satisfaction, and being informed of Dr. Sanderson's great Innocence and Sincerity, and that he and his Family were brought into a low condition by his not complying with the Parliaments injunctions, sent him by his dear Friend Dr. Barlow, (the now Learned Bishop of Lincoln,) 50 l. and with it a request and promise: The request was, That he would review the Lectures de Conscientia, which he had read when he was Doctor of the Chair in Oxford, and print them for the good of Posterity; (and this Dr. Sanderson did in the Year 1659.) And the Promise was, That he would pay him that, or if he desir'd it, a greater Sum yearly, during his Life to inable him to pay an Amanuensis, to ease him from the trouble of writing what he should conceive or dictate.—For the moré particular account of which, I refer my reader to a Letter writ to me by the said Dr. Barlow, which I have annexed to the end of this Relation.

Towards the beginning of the Year 1600. when the many mixt Sects, and their Creators, and merciless Protectors, had led, or driven each other into a Whirl-pool of Confusion both in Church and State: when amazement and fear had seized most of them by foreseeing, they must now not only Vomit up the Churches, and the Kings Land, but their accusing Consciences did also give them an inward and fearful Intelligence, that the God of opposition, disobedience, and confusion, which they had so long and so diligently fear'd, was now ready to reward them with such wages as he always pays to Witches for their obeying him. When these Wretches (that had said to themselves, We shall see no sorrow,) were come to foresee an end of their cruel reign, by our Kings return, and such Sufferers as Dr. Sanderson (and with him many of the oppressed Clergy and others) could foresee the Cloud of their afflictions would be dispers'd by it. Then the 29th. of May following, the King was by our good God restored to us, and we to our known Laws and Liberties, and then a general joy and peace seem'd to breath through the three Nations; the suffering and sequester'd Clergy (who had like the Children of Israel, sat long lamenting their sad Condition, and hang'd their neglected Harps on the Willows that grow by the Rivers of Babylon) were after many thoughtful days, and restless nights, now freed from their Sequestration, restor'd to their Revenues, and to a liberty to adore, praise, and pray to Almighty God publickly in such order as their Consciences and Oaths had formerly obliged them. And the Reader will easily believe that Dr. Sanderson and his dejected Family rejoyc'd to see this happy day, and be of this number.

p. 40At this time of the conformable Clergies deliverance, from the Presbyterian severities; the Doctor said to a Friend. I look back on this strange and happy turn of the late times, with amazement and thankfulness; and cannot but think the Presbyterians ought to read their own Errors, by considering that by their own rules the Independants have punisht, and supplanted them as they did the Conformable Clergy, who are now (so many as still live) restor'd to their lawful right; and, as the Prophet David hath taught me, so I say with a thankful heart. Verily, there is a God that judgeth the earth: And, a reward for the righteous.

It ought to be considered (which I have often heard or read) that in the Primitive times, men of learning, prudence, and vertue were usually sought for, and sollicited to accept of Episcopal Government, and often refus'd it. For, they conscientiously considered that the Office of a Bishop was not made up of ease and state, but of labour and care: that they were trusted to be of God's Almoners of the Churches Revenue, and double their care for the Churches good, and the poor; to live strictly themselves, and use all diligence to see that their Family, Officers, and Clergy, became examples of innocence and Piety to others; and that the account of that Stewardship must at the last dreadful day be made to the Searcher of all hearts: and for these reasons they were in the Primitive times timerous to undertake it. It may not be said that Dr. Sanderson was accomplish'd with these, and all the other requisites requir'd in a Bishop, so, as to be able to answer them exactly; but it may be affirm'd, as a good preparation, that he had at the Age of 73 years (for he was so old at the King's return) fewer faults to be pardon'd by God or Man, than are apparent in others in these days, in which (God knows) we fall so short of that visible sanctity and zeal to God's glory, which was apparent in the days of Primitive Christianity. This is mentioned by way of preparation to what I shall say more of Dr. Sanderson; as namely, That at the King's return Dr. Sheldon, the late prudent Archbishop of Canterbury (than whom none knew, valued, or lov'd Dr. Sanderson more or better) was by his Majesty made a chief Trustee to commend to him fit men to supply the then vacant Bishopricks. And Dr. Sheldon knew none fitter than Dr. Sanderson, and therefore humbly desired the King that he would nominate him: and that done; he did as humbly desire Dr. Sanderson that he would For Gods and the Churches sake take that charge and care upon him. Dr. Sanderson had, if not an unwillingness, certainly no forwardness to undertake it, and would often say, He had not led himself, but his Friend would now lead him into a p. 41temptation, which he had daily▪ prayed against; and besought God, if he did undertake it so, to assist him with his grace, that the example of his life, his cares and endeavours might promote his glory, and help forward the salvation of others.

This I have mentioned as a happy preparation to his Bishoprick▪ and am next to tell that he was consecrated Bishop of Lincoln at Westminster the 28th of October, 1660.

There was about this time a Christian care taken, that those whose Consciences were (as they said) tender, and could not comply with the Service and Ceremonies of the Church, might have a satisfaction given by a Friendly debate betwixt a select number of them, and some like number of those that had been Sufferers for the Church Service and Ceremonies, and now restor'd to liberty; of which last some were then preferr'd to power and dignity in the Church. And of these Bishop Sanderson was one, and then chose to be a Moderator in that debate, and he perform'd his trust with much mildness, patience and reason; but all prov'd uneffectual: For there be some prepossessions like jealouses, (which though causeless, yet) cannot be remov'd by reasons as apparent as demonstration can make any truth. The place appointed for this debate was the Savoy in the Strand: and the Points debated were, I think, many; (and I think many of them needless) some affirmed to be truth and reason, some denied to be either; and these debates being at first in words, prov'd to be so loose and perplex'd, as satisfied neither Party. For sometime that which had been affirmed was immediately forgor, or mistaken, or deny'd, and so no satisfaction given to either party. And that the debate might become more satisfactory and useful, it was therefore resolv'd that the day following the desires and reasons of the Non-conformists should be given in writing, and they in writing receive Answers from the conforming party. And though I neither now can, nor need to mention all the Points debated, nor the names of the dissenting Brethren: yet I am sure Mr. Richard Baxter was one, and I am sure also one of the Points debated, was Concerning a Command of Lawful Superiours, what was sufficient towards its being a lawful Command?—this following Proposition was brought by the conforming Party.