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yet, I knew not how, the Earl, who sought by all devices, to divert her love and liking both from the father and the son, but from the son especially, to withdraw my affection from the one and the other, and to win me altogether to depend upon himself, did so often take occasion to entertain the queen with some prodigal speeches of my sufficiency for a secretary, which were everaccompanied with words of disgrace against the present lord treasurer, as neither she herself, of whose favour before I was thoroughly assured, took any great pleasure to prefer me the sooner. For she hated his ambition, and would give little countenance to any of his followers, and both the lord Burleigh and his son waxed jealous of my courses, as if under-hand I had been induced, by the cunning and kindness of the Earl of Essex, to oppose myself against their dealings. And though, in very truth, they had no solid ground at all of the least alteration in my disposition towards either of them both, for I did greatly respect their persons and places, with a settled resolution to do them, any service, as also in my heart I detested to be held of any faction whatsoever; yet the now lord treasurer, upon occasion of some talk, that I have since had with him, of the Earl and his actions, hath freely consessed of his own accord unto me, that his daily provocations were so bitter and sharp against him, and his comparisons so odious, when he put us in a balance, as he thought thereupon he had very great reason to use his best means, to put any man out of hope of raising his fortune, whom the Earl with such violence, to his extreme prejudice, had endeavoured to dignity. And this, as he affirmed, was all the motive he had to set himself against me, in whatsoever might redound to the bettering of my estate, or increasing of my credit and countenance with the queen. When I had thoroughly now bethought me, first in the Earl, of the slender hold-fast that he had in the favour of the queen, of an endless opposition of the chiefest of our statesmen like still to wait upon him, of his perilous, and feeble, and uncertain advice, as well in his own, as in all the causes of his friends: And when moreover, for myself. I had fully considered how very untowardly these two counsellors were affected unto me, upon whom before in cogitation I had framed all the fabrick of my future prosperity; how ill it did concur with my natural disposition to become, or to be counted either a stickler or partaker in any publick faction; how well I was able, by God's good blessing, to live of myself, if I could be content with a competent livelihood; how short time of further life I was then to expect by the common course of nature; when I had, I say, in this manner, represented to my thoughts my particular estate, together with the Earl's, I resolved thereupon to : possess my soul in peace, all the residue of my days; to take my full farewel of state employments, to satisfy my mind with that mediocrity of worldly living, that I had of my own, and so to retire me from the court, which was the epilogue and end of all my actions and endeavours of any important note, till I came to the age of fifty-three. Now, although after this, by her majesty's direction, I was often called to the court, by the now lord treasurer, then secretary, and required by him, as also divers times since, by order from the King, to serve as ambassador in France, to go a commissioner from his highness, for concluding the truce between Spain and the provinces, and to negotiate in other - D 4
very honourable employments; yet I would not be removed from my former final resolution, insomuch as at length, to induce me the sooner to return to the court, I had an offer made me by the present lord treasurer, for in process of time he saw, as he himself was pleased to tell me more than once, that all my dealing was upright, faithful, and direct, that, in case I myself was willing unto it, he would make me his associate in the secretary's office, and, to the intent I might believe that he intended it bona fide, he would get me out of hand to be sworn of the council. And for the better enabling of my state to maintain such a dignity, whatsoever I would ask, that might be fit for him to deal in, and for me to enjoy, he would presently sollicit the King to give it passage. All which persuasions notwithstanding, although I was often assaulted by him, in regard of my years, and for that I felt subject to many indispositions, besides some other private reasons which I reserve unto myself, I have continued still at home my retired course of life, which is now methinks to me as the greatest preferment that the state can afford. Only this I must truly confess of myself, that though I did never repent me yet of those, and some other my often refusals of honourable offers, in respect of enriching my private estate; yet somewhat more of late I have blamed myself, and my nicety that way, for the love that I bear to my reverend mother the University of Oxford, and to the advancement of her good, by such kind of means, as I have since undertaken. For thus I fell to discourse and debate in my mind, that although I might find it fittest for me to keep out of the throng of court contentions, and address my thoughts and deeds to such ends altogether, as I myself could best affect; yet withal I was to think, that my duty towards God, the expectation of the world, my natural inclination, and very morality, did require, that I should not wholly so hide those little abilities that I had, put that in some measure, in one kind or other, I should do the true
art of a profitable member in the state. Whereupon examining exacti. for the rest of my life, what course I might take, and having sought, as I thought, all the ways to the wood to select the most proper, I concluded at the last to set up my staff at the library door in Oxford; being thoroughly persuaded, that, in my solitude and surcease from the commonwealth affairs, I could not busy myself to better purpose, than by reducing that place, which then in every part lay ruined and waste, to the publick use of students; for the effecting whereof, I found myself furnished in a competent proportion, of such four kinds of aids, as, unless I had them all, there was no hope of good success. For without some kind of knowledge, as well in the learned and modern tongues, as in sundry other sorts of scholastical literature; without some purseability, to go through with the charge; without very great store of honourable friends to further the design, and without special good leisure to follow such a work, it could but have proved a vain attempt, and inconsiderate. But how well I have sped in all my endeavours, and how full provision I have made for the benefit and ease of all frequenters of the library, that which I have already performed in sight, that besides which I have given for the maintenance of it, and that which hereafter I purpose to add, by way of enlargement to that place, for the project is cast, and, whether I live or die, it shall be, God willing, put in full
execution, will testify so truly and abundantly for me, as I need not be the publisher of the dignity and worth of my own institution. Written with my own hand, anno 1609, December the fifteenth.
“Thus far our noble author of himself, who, like to the first penman * of the sacred history, seems to survive his grave, and to describe unto ‘us his own death. For, having finished that great work which future ‘times shall ever honour, never equal, he yielded to his fate. As being “unwilling the glory of that deed should be defloured by the succession * of an act less high than it. On the twenty-ninth of January, in the ‘year 1612, his pure soul attained the freedom of its own divinity: “Leaving his borrowed earth, the sad remainder of innocence and frail‘ty, to be deposited in Merton College: Who had the happiness to call “his education her's, and to be intrusted with so dear a pledge of im: ‘morality.’ - *
He seditiously stirs up men to fight: He will teach others the way whereof himself is most ignorant ; and persuades men to take an oath, because himself had sworn it before.
London, Printed for Richard Marriott, and are to be sold at his shop under St. Dunstan's Church in Fleet-Street, 1662-3. Quarto, containing twenty-two pages.
THIS pamphlet was torn from me, by those who say, they cannot rob, because all is theirs. They found it where it slept many years forgotten; but they awakened it, and made false transcripts. They excised what they liked not; so mangled and reformed, that it was no character of an assembler, but of themselves. A copy of thatreformling had crept to the press. I seized and stopped it, unwilling to father other men's sins. Here therefore you have it, as it was first
scribbled, without addition of a syllable; I wish I durst say here is nothing lopped off; but men and manners are changed, at least they say so. If yet this tritle seem born with teeth, you know whose hands were knuckle-deep in the blood of that renowned chancellor of Oxon, Archbishop Laud, though, when they cut up that great martyr, his two greatest crimes were the two greatest glories Great-Britain can boast of St. Paul's Church, and the Oxford Library. Where you find no coherence, remember this paper hath suffered decimation: Better times have made it worse, and that is no fault of
AN assembler is part of the state's chattels, not priest, nor burgess,
but a participle that sharks upon both. He was chosen, as Sir Nathaniel, because he knew least of all his profession, not by the votes of a whole diocese, but by one whole parliament man. He has sat four years towards a new religion, but, in the interim, left none at all; as his masters, the commons, had a long debate, whether candles or no candles, but all the mean while sat sull in the dark; and therefore, when the moon quits her old light, and has acquired no new, astronomers say she is in her synode. Shew me such a picture of Judas, as the assembler, a griping, false, reforming brother; who rails at waste spent upon the anointed; persecutes most those hands which ordained him; brings in men with swords and staves; and all for money from the honourable scribes and pharisees. One touch more (a line tied to his name-sake, Elder-tree) had made him Judas root and branch. This assembly at first was a full century, which should be reckoned, as the scholiast's hecatomb, by their feet, not heads; or count them by scores; for, in things without heads, sixscore go to an hundred. They would be a new septuagint; the old translated scripture out of Hebrew into Greek, these turn it to four shillings a day; and all these assemblers were begot in one day, as Hercules's fifty bastards all in one night. Their first list was sprinkled with some names of honour, (Dr. Sanderson, Dr. Morley, Dr. Hammond, &c.; but these were divines too worthy to mix with such scandalous ministers, and would not assemble without the royal call. Nay, the first list had one archbishop, one bishop, and an half; for bishop Brownrigg was then but elect; but now their assembly, as philosophers think the world, consists of atoms, petty small Levites, whose parts are not perceptible; and yet these inferior postern teachers have intoxicated England (for a man sometimes grows drunk by a clyster.) When they all meet, they shew beasts in Africa, by promiscuous coupling, ingender monsters. Mr. Selden visits them, as Persians use, to see wild asses fight; when the Commons have tired him with their new law, these brethren refresh him with their mad gospel. They lately were gravelled betwixt Jerusalem and Jericho; they knew not the distance betwixt those two places; one cried twenty miles, another ten; it was concluded seven, for this reason, That fish was brought from Jericho to Jerusalem-market. Mr. Selden smiled, and said, Perhaps the fish was salt fish; and so stopped their mouths. Earl Philip goes thither to hear them spend; when he heard them toss their national, provincial, classical, congregational, he swore dammably, that a pack of good dogs made better musick: His allusion was proper, since the elder's maid had a four-legged husband. To speak truth, this assembly is the two houses attiring-room, where the Lords and Commons put on their wizards and masks of religion: And their honours have so sifted the church, that at last they have found the bran of the clergy; yet such poor church-menders must reform and shuffle, though they find church-government may a thousand ways be changed for the worse, but not one way for the better. They have lately published annotations on the bible, where their first note on the word create, is a libel against kings, for creating of honours. Their annotation on Jacob's two kids is, That two kids are too much for one man's supper; but he had, say they, but one kid, and the other made sauce. They observe, upon Herod, what a tyrant he was, to kill infants under two years old, without giving them a legal trial, that they might speak for themselves. Commonly they follow the Geneva margin, as those seamen, who understood not the compass, crept along the shore; but, I hear, they threaten a second edition, and, in the interim, thrust forth a paltry catechism, which expounds nine commandments, and eleven articles of the creed. Of late they are much in love with chronograms, because, if possible, they are duller than anagrams. O how they have torn the poor bishops names, to pick out the number six hundred sixtysix little dreaming, that a whole baker's dozen of their own assembly have that beastly number in each of their names, and that as exactly as their solemn league and covenant consists of six-hundred sixty-six words. But though the assembler's brains are lead, his countenance is brass; for he damned such as held two benefices, while himself has four or five, besides his concubine-lecture. He is not against pluralities, but dualities; he says, it is unlawful to have two of his own, though four of other men's; and observes how the Hebrew word for life has no singular number. Yet it is some relief to a sequestered person to see two assemblers snarl for his tithes; for, of all kinds of beasts, none can match an assembler, but an assembler. He never enters a church by the door, but clambers up through a window of sequestration, or steals in, through vaults and cellars, by clandestine contracts with an expecting patron. He is most sure no law can hurt him, for all laws died in England the year before the assembler was born. The best way to hold him is, as our king Richard bound the king of Cyprus, in silver chains. He loves to discourse of the new Jerusalem, because her streets are of fine gold, and yet could like London as well, were Cheapside paved with the philosopher's stone; nay, he would say his prayers with beads, if he might have a set made all of diamonds. This, this is it which tempts him to such mad articles against the loyal clergy, whom he dresses as he would have them appear, just as the ballad of Dr. Faustus brings forth the devil in a friar's weed. He accused one minister for saying the blessed virgin was the mother of God, (essroot, as the ancients call her.) Another he charged for a common drunkard, who, all the country knows, has drunk nothing but water these six and twenty years. But the assembler himself can drink widows tears,though their husbands are not dead. Sure, if Paracelsus's doctrine were true, That to eat creatures alive will perpetuate man's life, the assembler were immortal; for he swallows