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<DATE>2007-09-05</DATE>
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<NAME>Elspeth Healey</NAME>
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<DIV1 TYPE="title page">
<PB REF="1">
<PB REF="1" MS="y">
<P>A NARRATION OF THE LIFE OF Mr. Henry Burton.
WHEREIN Is &s;et forth the various and remarkable Pa&s;&s;a|ges thereof, his Sufferings, Supports, Com|forts, and Deliverances.
Now publi&s;hed for the Benefit of all tho&s;e that either doe or may &s;uffer for the Cau&s;e of CHRIST.
According to a Copy written with his owne Hand.</P>
<BIBL>PHIL. 1. 21.</BIBL>
<Q><HI>Chri&s;t is to me, to live, and dye, gaine.</HI></Q>
<Q><HI>Dum patior pro Chri&s;to, potior Chri&s;to.</HI></Q>
<P>LONDON: Printed in the Yeare, 1643.</P>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="to the reader">
<PB REF="2">
<PB REF="2">
<HEAD>The Preface to the Reader.</HEAD>
<OPENER><SALUTE>Chri&s;tian Reader,</SALUTE></OPENER>
<P>_I May &s;ay, as old Iacob, and no le&s;&s;e truly, few and evill have the dayes of the yeares of my <NOTE PLACE="marg">Gen. <HI>47. 9.</HI></NOTE> pilgrimage been. For proofe hereof, As it is with a Mariner, or traveller, who after a long Voyage, comming within <HI>ken</HI> of his na|tive Country, begins to recount with him|&s;elfe the many hazzards he hath run, what by terrible &s;tormes in the mid&s;t of Rocks and &s;helves, what by pi|rates, and other perills; all which having now waded out of, and overcome, and arriving at his wi&s;hed port, after thank&s;gi|ving to God for bringing him to the haven where he would be; <NOTE PLACE="marg">P&s;a. <HI>107 30</HI></NOTE> he <GAP DESC="illegible" REASON="faint" EXTENT="1+ letters">ts him downe, and (to recreate him&s;elfe and friends) begins to di&s;cour&s;e of his travells, and of the mo&s;t memorable pa&s;&s;ages therein: So is it now with me. Onely, I cannot yet &s;ay, that after &s;o long, tedious, and perillous a Voyage as I have pa&s;&s;ed through by Sea and Land, every where attended and a&s;&s;ailed by fierce tempe&s;ts and Pyrates, I have already arrived at the Port or Haven, which I have long wi&s;hed for, to wit, my cele&s;tiall Countrey, and which through the Per&s;pective Gla&s;&s;e of Faith I can as yet (in compa|ri&s;on) at &s;uch a distance, but darkly di&s;cover. For although by <NOTE PLACE="marg"><HI>1</HI> Cor. <HI>13.<GAP DESC="illegible" REASON="faint" EXTENT="1 letter"></HI></NOTE> his divine providence, who&s;e exiled pri&s;oner I have lately been, I am now delivered from that (otherwi&s;e perpetuall) pri&s;on and exile: yet I &s;till carry about with me the manicles and fetters
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of this mortall and &s;infull body, which I cannot be freed from, untill I have paid my <NOTE N="*" PLACE="marg"><HI>To wit, Death. 2</HI> Cor. <HI>5.</HI> Ioh. <HI>14 2.</HI></NOTE> pri&s;on-fees, that &s;o my &s;oule may flit out of this her earthly tabernacle to her heavenly man&s;ion.</P>
<P>Nor is it unu&s;uall for men to &s;et forth a de&s;cription of their owne lives. Mo&s;es did &s;o. David &s;o. Paul &s;o. And who fitter <NOTE PLACE="marg">Exodus. P&s;almes Act <HI>2. 2</HI> Cor. <HI>11.</HI> &amp;c.</NOTE> then a mans &s;elfe, as being be&s;t acquainted with, and mo&s;t privy to the many pa&s;&s;ages of his life. Nor had I undertaken this taske, but partly to &s;atisfie the importunity of many godly friends, and partly to give a ju&s;t account to Gods people of that divine &s;upport and comfort, which it plea&s;ed the Lord to uphold mee with, in all my tryalls. To which purpo&s;e I may u&s;e the Apo&s;tles words: Ble&s;&s;ed be God even the Father of our Lord Ie&s;us Chri&s;t the Father of Mercies, and the God of all con&s;olation, who com|forteth <NOTE PLACE="marg"><HI>2</HI> Cor. <HI>1. 3, <GAP DESC="illegible" REASON="faint" EXTENT="1 letter"></HI></NOTE> us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort them which are in any affliction, by the comfort, wherewith wee our &s;elves are comforted of God. As al&s;o the words of David, Come and hearken, all ye that feare God, and I will tell you what he hath done for my &s;oule. And the&s;e are they e&s;pecially, to whom <NOTE PLACE="marg">P&s;al. <HI>66. 16</HI></NOTE> next unto Ie&s;us Chri&s;t the Righteous Iudge, as I owe my life, &s;o I ought to give an account thereof. For the re&s;t, I am not a|&s;hamed to make my &s;elfe herein a &s;pectacle even to tho&s;e that are without, this being but an anticipation, &s;eeing we mu&s;t all ap|peare before the Iudgement Seat of Chri&s;t, that every one may re|ceive <NOTE PLACE="marg"><HI>2</HI> Cor. <HI>9. 10.</HI></NOTE> the things done in his body, according to that he hath done, whether it be good or evill. <HI>Farewell.</HI></P>
<CLOSER><SIGNED>HEN. BURTON.</SIGNED></CLOSER>
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<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
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<P><FIGURE>
<HEAD><GAP DESC="illegible" REASON="blotted" EXTENT="2+ words"> 64. 1642.</HEAD>
<P><GAP DESC="foreign"></P>
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<LG>
<L>He that once dead, unburied lay</L>
<L>Three dayes (count yeares) &amp; halfe a day:</L>
<L>Reviv'd here shews his pilgrimage,</L>
<L>Now in the last &s;cene of his age:</L>
<L>The short remainder, &s;harpe or &s;weet,</L>
<L>Expect till death shall make complete.</L>
</LG>
</DIV1>
</FRONT>
<BODY>
<DIV1 TYPE="account">
<PB REF="4">
<PB N="1" REF="4">
<HEAD>A Narration of the Life of M^r. <HI>Henry Burton.</HI></HEAD>
<P>_MY birth and breeding was at <HI>Bird&s;all,</HI> an ob&s;cure Towne in York&s;hire; and the more ob&s;cure, as having never had a preaching Mini&s;ter time out of minde, long before I was borne, nor (for ought I know) to this very day. Notwith&s;tanding my Parents were piou&s;ly affected, they would correct us, their children (whereof they had many) and that &s;everely, if we &s;wore an oath, or neglected the Church, or made a lie. Me, of all the re&s;t, they kept at School&punc; my mother encouraging me with often &s;hewing me a new Te&s;tament in Engli&s;h, which &s;he kept lockt up (it having beene my Grandfathers in Queene <HI>Maries</HI> dayes) promi&s;ing it me, when I could read it; &s;o as afterwards I was put to read every night two or three Chapters in it to the Family. In time they &s;ent me to the Univer&s;ity of <HI>Cambridge,</HI> and placed me in the Colledge called St. <HI>Johns,</HI> where I proceeded Ma&s;ter of Arts: In which time it was my happine&s;&s;e to be a con&s;tant hearer of Mr. <HI>Chatterton,</HI> and Mr. <HI>Perkins</HI> on the Lords day. For from my fir&s;t entrance in the Colledge, it plea&s;ed God to open mine eyes by their mini&s;try, &s;o as to put a difference betweene their &s;ound teaching, and the Univer&s;ity Sermons, which &s;avoured more of humane wit, then of Gods word. Thus I had, and for ever have cau&s;e to admire and adore the goodne&s;&s;e of God, who thus brought me out of darkne&s;&s;e, into his marvellous light. Some time after I was in the hou&s;e of a Noble Knight, for the education of his two &s;onnes, in which time, with them &s;ojourning a while with a religious <NOTE N="*" PLACE="marg">Mrs <HI>B<GAP DESC="illegible" REASON="blotted" EXTENT="1 letter">w</HI> at <HI>Aske,</HI> neer <HI>Rich|mond</HI> in the North.</NOTE> Matron of worthy memory, and having often conference with her, &s;he took &s;uch notice of my &s;pirit then, and chiefly of my zeale again&s;t the Prelates pride and practices that &s;he &s;aid then to &s;ome (yet &s;urviving) of me, This
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young man (&s;aid &s;he) will one day be the overthrow of the Bi&s;hops.</P>
<P>After this I was, by the fore&s;aid Knight, recommended to the ex|cellent Prince <HI>Henry</HI> of glorious memory, whom I &s;erved as &s;ole Of|ficer in his clo&s;ets during his life; only the Bi&s;hop, who was Clerk of King <HI>James</HI> his clo&s;et, envying me the title of Clerk, was a meanes to depre&s;&s;e me, though my office otherwi&s;e was ab&s;olute. But this was by the &s;peciall providence of my God &s;till, who would not &s;uffer me to ri&s;e high in Court, le&s;t I &s;hould have beene corrupted with the preferments of it. Nor had I learned the art of ambition to climbe up that ladder, in &s;o much as I would often &s;ay to a familiar friend in Court, that I wondred wherefore I lived in Court, con&s;idering my naturall indi&s;po&s;ition to a Court-life, as al&s;o how the greate&s;t benefit I found by my office was, that it afforded me time for my private &s;tuddies, which I hoped God would in time bring me forth to make more publicke u&s;e of; and then I &s;hould know why I had &s;o lived thus long in Court. And in that time under Prince <HI>Henry,</HI> I writ a Treati&s;e in Latine of Antichri&s;t, which in a Manu&s;cript I pre&s;ented to him, with an Epi&s;tle Dedicatory, and which he graciou&s;ly accep|ted, cau&s;ing it to be kept in his Library at S. James.</P>
<P>After his much lamented decea&s;e, I was continued in the &s;ame place and office to Prince <HI>Charles,</HI> when God &s;tirred up my heart to enter into the Mini&s;try, being then above thirty yeares of age, but yet too &s;oone, as having not yet &s;ufficiently learned to weigh that Text of the Apo&s;tle, <HI>And who is &s;ufficient for the&s;e things?</HI> or yet the right way of a Mini&s;ters externall call, which the ignorance and <NOTE PLACE="marg">2 Cor. 2. 16</NOTE> &s;loth of tho&s;e times had not learned to walk in. In that time I writ a Treati&s;e again&s;t Simony, entituled, <HI>A Cen&s;ure of Simony:</HI> Al&s;o another Book, entituled, <HI>Truths triumph over Tront;</HI> wherein I unfolded that my&s;tery of iniquity packed up in the &s;ixth &s;e&s;&s;ion of that Councell, encountring therein tho&s;e two Champions of the Councell, <HI>Andreas Vega,</HI> and <HI>Dominicus Soto:</HI> The&s;e two Books were publi&s;hed <HI>Cum Previlegio,</HI> though with much adoe obtained of the Archbi&s;hops Chaplains, in tho&s;e, not then full growne ripe, evill times. Yet they ripened &s;o fa&s;t, <HI>Abbot</HI> of <HI>Canterbury</HI> yet living, that I could not ob|taine of his Chaplaine the licen&s;ing of an an&s;wer of mine to a Je&s;uits Book, entituled, <HI>The converted Jew,</HI> which he boldly had dedicated to both our Univer&s;ities: And I under&s;tood he dur&s;t not doe it, for two cau&s;es: fir&s;t, becau&s;e in that An&s;wer I had upon occa&s;ion con|&s;uted the Arminian Here&s;ies: &s;econdly, becau&s;e therein I proved the
<PB N="3" REF="5">
Pope to be the Antichri&s;t. Which two things began in tho&s;e dayes to be <HI>Noli me tangere,</HI> and fewell for the H<GAP DESC="illegible" REASON="missing" EXTENT="1 letter">gh Commi&s;&s;ion &s;urnace, proving afterwards pillary-offences inexpiable, never to be forgiven, neither in this world, nor in the world to come. Which after times, being ha&s;tened on by the immature death of King <HI>Iames,</HI> have beene the only cau&s;es that have made his life de&s;ireable; as <HI>Titus Livius</HI> &s;aid of <HI>Hieronymus</HI> of <HI>Syracu&s;a, Qui &s;olus Patrem de&s;iderabilem fecit.</HI></P>
<P>Well, King <HI>Iames</HI> being dead (whether &s;o, or &s;o, or otherwi&s;e, time hath not yet examined) and King <HI>Charles</HI> &s;ucceeding; I &s;hall now acquaint you with a notable pa&s;&s;age of divine Providence, in parting the Court and me a&s;under. For I under&s;tanding that the Bi|&s;hop, the old Clerk, &s;hould &s;till continue in that Office, and that the King had de&s;igned me for &s;ome other inferiour Office; and ob&s;erving al&s;o that with <HI>Neale, Lawd</HI> al&s;o &s;hould be continually about the King: I &s;aw there would be no abiding for me in Court any longer. Yet be|fore I went, I thought I was bound in con&s;cience, by vertue of my place, to informe the King of the&s;e men, how popi&s;hly affected they were, &s;imply imagining, that the King either did not &s;o well know their qualities, or that perhaps he might be put upon &s;econd thoughts, by con&s;idering the dangerous con&s;equences of entertaining &s;uch per|&s;ons &s;o neere about him, as I pre&s;ented to his Maje&s;ty in a large letter to that purpo&s;e. Which letter he read a good part of, I &s;tanding before him; but perceiving the &s;cope of it, he gave it me againe, and bade me forbeare any more attendance in my Office untill he &s;hould &s;end for me. Whereupon, though for the pre&s;ent my &s;pirits were &s;omewhat appalled, and dejected, yet going home to my hou&s;e in <HI>London,</HI> and there entring into a &s;erious meditation of Gods Providence herein, how fairely he had now brought me off from the Court, when I &s;aw &s;uch Lords were like to domineere, and how I might doe God and his Church better &s;ervice in a more retired life, as wherein I was in no danger of Court-Preferments, thereby to bee cowardized from en|countering &s;uch Giants as began already to threaten the Ho&s;te of I&s;|rael, and again&s;t who&s;e power I thought <HI>Sauls</HI> armour would give me &s;mall defence, but much hinder me rather: I hereupon began to recol|lect my &s;cattered &s;pirits, re&s;olving now after almo&s;t twice &s;even yeares &s;ervice, quite to for&s;ake the Court; which I did &s;ignifie by another letter to a friend of mine of great place neere unto the King; &s;o as the King hath &s;aid, that I put away him, and not hee me. However it plea&s;ed him to &s;ay &s;o, yet I had abundant cau&s;e to ble&s;&s;e God, and
<PB N="4" REF="6">
daily to rejoyce with exceeding joy, that I was now freed from the Court, which joy hath now continually increa&s;ed ever &s;ince to this ve|ry day without intermi&s;&s;ion.</P>
<P>Thus having bid the Court farewell, I kept me clo&s;e to the Mini|&s;tery of the Word, and be&s;ides my weekly preaching every Lords day <NOTE PLACE="marg"><HI>M. Mon|tague</HI> after B of Chi|che&s;ter, then of Norwich.</NOTE> twice, I an&s;wered &s;undry erroneous and heterodox Bookes &s;et forth by the Prelats, and tho&s;e of the Prelaticall party. As 1. <HI>Montagues</HI> Book, &s;tyled, <HI>An Appeale to Cae&s;ar:</HI> the fir&s;t part whereof defended all the <HI>Arminian</HI> Here&s;ies, and the &s;econd was to maintain many gro&s;&s;e points of Popery. And Dr. <HI>Francis White</HI> prefixed his Approbation to both. My an&s;wer to the fir&s;t part was publi&s;hed in print: but that to the &s;econd was by the <HI>Aegyptian Task-ma&s;ters</HI> &s;trangled in the birth, be|ing upon the breaking up of the Parliament, taken tardie in the Pre&s;&s;e as it was a printing.</P>
<P>A &s;econd Book, to which I made and publi&s;hed an An&s;wer in time of Parliament, was <HI>Co&s;ens Private Devotions,</HI> or <HI>Houres of Prayer,</HI> to which his Popi&s;h Canonicall Houres I framed a fit Diall.</P>
<P>A third was a Book of Dr. <HI>Hall</HI> B. of <HI>Exceter,</HI> wherein he affirmed the Church of <HI>Rome</HI> to be a true Church. Which in a Treati&s;e of mine upon the 7. Vials I occa&s;ionally confuting, and Mr. <HI>Cholmley</HI> his Chap|len, and Mr. <HI>Butterfield</HI> another Mini&s;ter, making each of them a &s;eve|rall reply, I thereupon made one full an&s;wer to them both, &s;o as both &s;ate down, and replyed no more; and Dr. <HI>Hall</HI> him&s;elfe would &s;alve or rather dawbe up the matter, by begging the &s;uffrages of two Bi|&s;hops, and two Doctors, who &s;o &s;huffled together each his own Cards, that they ea&s;ily made one pack. And wel might they both &s;huffle, pack, cut, and deale, when no an&s;wer was permitted to be publi&s;hed. But for all that, my <HI>Babel no Bethel,</HI> remains intire, and un&s;haken by any of their breaths, &s;aving that &s;ome of their black mouths laboured to be|&s;meare me with their proud &s;corne. And for &s;o writing again&s;t the Church of <HI>Rome,</HI> as no true Church of Chri&s;t, and becau&s;e &s;uch kind of Bookes were printed without licence when none could be obtained, I was brought the fir&s;t and &s;econd time into the High Commi&s;&s;ion, whence I had not e&s;caped without cindging at lea&s;t, to make me &s;mell of it ever after, if not &s;tigmati&s;ing either in my name or pur&s;e, had I not come in time to procure a Prohibition in the Court of Ju&s;tice, be|fore the doore was &s;hut, which was not long after, the Bi&s;hop having a little before my Prohibition threatned in open Court, that who&s;oe|ver <NOTE PLACE="marg">London, Lawd.</NOTE> after that of Mr. <HI>Pryns</HI> then tendered, &s;hould be the next (which
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fell to my lot) to dare to bring a Prohibition there, he would &s;et him fa&s;t by the heeles. But in&s;tead of &s;etting me by the heeles, he hung me up by the head; for the next morning after that my Prohibition was tendered in Court, whereat the whole Board was hu&s;ht, he &s;ent his Pur&s;uivant for me, and anew quarrelled with me for my late prea|ching again&s;t bowing at the Name Je&s;us; and though I told him that it was fir&s;t injoyned by the Pope, and &s;hewed by Scripture it had no ground there: yet he proceeded to &s;u&s;pend me from preaching. But I appealing from him to the Arches of <HI>Canterbury</HI> (which afterwards I came to &s;ee, was no better then to goe from the black Witches in|chantment to be healed with the Spell of the White Witch) and held him &s;o to it, that he was glad to loo&s;e me againe from my &s;u&s;pen|&s;ion.</P>
<P>Another Book of my writing, &s;tyled, <HI>I&s;raels Fa&s;t,</HI> being publi&s;hed at a generall Fa&s;t, brought me again into their High Commi&s;&s;ion ex|traordinarily called for that purpo&s;e onely, where they examined me what, or whom I meant by <HI>Achan:</HI> I an&s;wered, the Je&s;uiticall Facti|on; and no more could they &s;quea&s;e from me, &s;o as not knowing what to do with me, they let me goe.</P>
<P>Another Book I wrote, and publi&s;hed, and that by licen&s;e too ca&s;u|ally, intituled, <HI>The baiting of the Popes Bull;</HI> for Pope <HI>&V;rban</HI> the 8. had &s;ent forth his roaring Bull among his Roman Catholikes in <HI>Eng|land,</HI> to incite them to be in a readine&s;&s;e, when&s;oever occa&s;ion was mini&s;tred for the promoting of the Catholike Cau&s;e, as they u&s;ually call it: This was an Alarme, or preparative to arme them for that plot, which was then a contriving, and which we &s;ee now marching forth into the field, expecting &s;ome de&s;perate i&s;&s;ue. This Bull pa&s;&s;ed up and down City and Countrey without controule, untill, &s;o &s;oon as it came to my hands, I fa&s;tned upon it. Well, hereupon the Bull roared &s;o lowd, that the bellowing was heard to the Coun&s;ell board. This baiting was made a heinous offence again&s;t the State, as being done without acquainting the board, which gives leave both to Bear-bai|ting, and Bull-baiting. Thither I was &s;ummoned, where I found fix of the Councell &s;itting of purpo&s;e to examine me about it, whereof two were, <HI>Neale</HI> of <HI>Durham,</HI> and <HI>Lawd</HI> of <HI>London.</HI> By the&s;e I was &s;oundly baited for 2. or 3. houres together. They would have made my Book again&s;t that Bull, a Libell. God put into my mouth an an&s;wer to all their que&s;tions, though &s;ome were very captious and in&s;naring. For it was ever my care to ob&s;erve my Ma&s;ter Chri&s;t his Coun&s;ell, being
<PB N="6" REF="7">
called before Coun&s;els <HI>(Mark.</HI> 11. 13, 15.) not to premeditate what or how to an&s;wer; and accordingly I found his promi&s;e mo&s;t true; for it was given me that houre what to an&s;wer, even when I was &s;o put to it &s;ometimes, that I knew not what to an&s;wer, till darting up a prayer, I had &s;uch an an&s;wer put in my mouth, as put to &s;ilence the op|po&s;er. And in fine I was &s;ent home without any Cen&s;ure.</P>
<P>Only let me here take occa&s;ion to relate a pretty pa&s;&s;age that fell out upon this Booke. In the Fronti&s;piece was a picture of K. <HI>Charles</HI> on the one &s;ide with a &s;word putting off the Popes Triple Crown over again&s;t it. Which when I &s;hewed to a little Daughter I then had of 3. yeares old in her mothers hands, telling her the meaning of tho&s;e two pictures, &s;he pre&s;ently replyed, <HI>O Father, our King &s;hall cut off the Popes head; it mu&s;t be &s;o, it mu&s;t be &s;o:</HI> Which words &s;he uttered with that vigour of &s;pirit, and vehemency of &s;peech, that we exceedingly wondered at it, &s;aying, <HI>It was not impo&s;&s;ible.</HI> And I do now the more look after the full accompli&s;hment of her words, as of a prophecy put into a Babes mouth, When of late we have &s;een one of tho&s;e, <HI>It must be &s;o,</HI> fulfilled in <HI>Scot|land;</HI> &s;o as we may hope to &s;ee the other <HI>It mu&s;t be &s;o,</HI> fulfilled in <HI>Eng|land,</HI> when God &s;hall put the like nece&s;&s;ity of <HI>It mu&s;t be &s;o,</HI> and that re|doubled, in cutting off the Popes head in the <HI>Engli&s;h Hierarchy</HI> by the Regall Sword. But this by the way.</P>
<P>Another time after that (when the Duke of <HI>Buckingham</HI> was at the Ile of <HI>Re<GAP DESC="illegible" REASON="blotted" EXTENT="1 letter">,</HI> the while the poore <HI>Rochellers</HI> and the bravest Chevalry of <HI>England</HI> were betrayed unto the <HI>French,)</HI> was I &s;ummoned to the Coun&s;ell Board; but for what cau&s;e, I could not come to know: for between the Summons, and day of appearance, came the Duke home. So as I having waited all the afternoon at the Coun&s;ell Chamber, doore, I was not &s;o much as called in, nor &s;ent for any more, but once for a &s;how without examination. Now I had a little before in a Ser|mon on the 5. of <HI>November</HI> &s;poken of &s;undry fore-running &s;ignes of the ruine of a State, which upon that return of the Duke, would not (it &s;eemes) indure the Examination. Nor was my time yet come; I was to wait for another 5. of <HI>November;</HI> all the&s;e troubles hitherto being but as it were &s;o many velitations, or light skirmi&s;hes in com|pari&s;on, before the main Battell; my Captain training me up by de|grees &s;o many yeeres, to fit me the better for the great incounter, which he had fore appointed me unto. Which great incounter, becau&s;e (all circum&s;tances weighed) it wants example; it will not (I hope) be more tedious to po&s;terity to read or heare, then it was for me to undergoe it.
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And I have the rather publi&s;hed the&s;e things at this time, becau&s;e it may commend the credit thereof to after-ages by tho&s;e who have been eye-witne&s;&s;es of all.</P>
<P>Notwith&s;tanding all the&s;e troubles and vexations hitherto, which the Prelates, and their confederates, who&s;e Captaine was <NOTE N="*" PLACE="marg"><HI>Dr. Lawd</HI> then Bi|&s;hop of <HI>London.</HI></NOTE> <HI>London,</HI> continually pur&s;ued and exerci&s;ed me withall, yet my &s;pirit was car|ried on with a mighty and undaunted courage, which my God put in|to me, and &s;o much the more, as the&s;e men grew the more audacious and outragious both in oppo&s;ing and oppre&s;&s;ing the Go&s;pel it &s;elfe in the Mini&s;tery and Mini&s;ters thereof, and in erecting and impo&s;ing <HI>Romes</HI> rotten Reliques in all the High places of the Land. I could not be &s;ilent nor patient, to &s;ee &s;uch things. Nor could all their terrours, though armed with the greate&s;t power on earth, deterre me. Yea, I was never fuller of &s;pirit, nor freer of &s;peech, then when I encountred <HI>London</HI> face to face In&s;omuch, as on a time being &s;ummoned by a Pur&s;uivant to <HI>London-hou&s;e,</HI> and waiting there all alone without till the Bi&s;hop, accompanied with his Chancellour and Regi&s;ter &s;hould &s;end for me in, the while my thoughts were bu&s;ied in &s;earching what the cau&s;e might be (which was my weakne&s;&s;e then) I was at length no &s;ooner called in, but &s;eeing the Bi&s;hop in his Chaire, with his &s;aid Of|ficers about him, ready to examine me, there came upon me as it were the &s;pirit of a Lyon all the while I was before them, &s;o as they were amazed with my An&s;wers. And another time, in the &s;ame place, when the Bi&s;hop in his Chaire was proudly in&s;ulting over me &s;tanding at the other end of the Table, and a friend of mine &s;tanding by, I (thinking thus with my &s;elfe, What doe I &s;tanding here to heare &s;uch language) did thereupon without replying, turn my back, and goe towards the doore to be gone, and looking back for my friend to follow, the Bi&s;hop at that very in&s;tant changed his note, and began to &s;peak me as faire, as po&s;&s;ibly could be, whereupon I came towards him againe, &s;aying with<GAP DESC="illegible" REASON="missing" EXTENT="1 letter">n my &s;elfe, that if he &s;pake rea&s;on, I would heare him. Nor was I at any time before him, but methought I &s;tood over him, as a School-ma&s;ter over his School-boy. So great was the goodne&s;&s;e of God upon me. Another time, I being convented at a High-Commi&s;&s;ion Board at <HI>London-hou&s;e,</HI> about my fore-&s;aid Book, <HI>Babel no Bethel, Har&s;enet</HI> then Archbi&s;hop of <HI>Yorke</HI> having run him&s;elfe out of breath with railing a|gain&s;t me and my Book (a &s;peciall faculty, wherein his Grace excee|ded) at length &s;aying, that I had dedicated my Book to the Parliament to incen&s;e them again&s;t the Higher Powers (he meant the King) then I
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an&s;wered, No, my Lord, I am none of them that divide the King and Parliament, but I pray God to unite them together. At this he had never a word more to &s;ay; For this was pre&s;ently after that Parliament was broken up, wherein the Petition of Right was &s;igned: &s;o that he knew better who they were, which at that time divided the King from the Parliament. Well, at the &s;ame time I mu&s;t to pri&s;on, and tendring bale, <HI>London</HI> an&s;wered, No, for (&s;aid he) the King had given expre&s;&s;e charge, that no baile &s;hould be taken for me. Then, my Lord (&s;aid I) I de&s;ire to know by what Law or Statute of the Land you doe impri|&s;on me; if it be according to Law, I humbly &s;ubmit my &s;elfe; other|wi&s;e I doe here claime the right and priviledge of a &s;ubject, according to the Petition of Right: but nor Petition, nor Right, nor Law, could keep me from pri&s;on. To the Fleet I went, where &s;tepping in, and &s;aying to the Porter, By your leave; and he an&s;wering, You are wel|come Sir; I thanked him, &s;aying, that is &s;ome comfort yet. But I found the comforts of my God there exceedingly, it being the fir&s;t time of my being a Pri&s;oner, &s;aving that I was &s;till, and had beene a long time, in the High Commi&s;&s;ion Bonds, which re&s;trained my liberty to the &s;cantling of that tether.</P>
<P>But I ha&s;ten to the maine Battalion, or pitcht battell with the Pre|lates, and their prelaticall party. For I more and more di&s;liked their u&s;urpations, and tyrannicall Government, with their attempts to &s;et up Popery: Therefore I purpo&s;ely preached upon the &s;econd Chapter to the <HI>Colo&s;&s;ians,</HI> crying downe all will-wor&s;hip, and humane inven|tions in Gods &s;ervice. Hereupon I began in my practice, as in my judgement, to fall off from the ceremonies. Only I watched for an occa|&s;ion to try it out with them, either by dint of Arguments, or force of Law, or by the King and his Coun&s;ell, re&s;olving of this, that by this means I &s;hould either foile my adver&s;aries (though I had no great hope this way) or at lea&s;t (which I was &s;ure not to faile of) di&s;cover the my|&s;tery of iniquity, and the deceit of hypocri&s;ie, which like a white vaile they had ca&s;t over all their foule practices, and fal&s;e pretences, being woven with the fine thread of &s;olemne Prote&s;tations, Declarations, Proclamations, and the like. And this di&s;covery I tooke to be of no &s;mall importance and con&s;equence, becau&s;e I &s;aw how every day they got ground in the hearts of &s;imple and credulous people, apt to beleeve their plau&s;ible pretences, and pompous &s;hewes of piety, as if all they did, were to maintain the Prote&s;tant Religion, when under that &s;pe|cious colour the withered whore of Babylon came in maskd at the fir&s;t,
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till at length &s;he began to &s;hew her painted face in her Super&s;tition^s Altar-&s;ervice, and other garbs. And as they laboured to undermine, and overthrow the true Prote&s;tant Religion, and in &s;tead thereof to &s;et up Popery; &s;o they did no le&s;&s;e &s;eeke to overthrow the Civill &s;tate, with the good lawes thereof, and ju&s;t liberties of the &s;ubject, and to intro|duce an arbitrary Government, otherwi&s;e called Tyrany, which taketh away every mans property in his owne goods and e&s;tate, as plain|ly appeared by all their practices, as in exacting of &s;hipmoney, which was to be perpetuall, and &s;ometimes twice impo&s;ed in one yeare, (upon &s;ome pretence of forraine enemies, when we had cau&s;e to feare none, but our home-bred traitours) and other impo&s;itions, with a thou&s;and monopolies. Of all which I being not a little &s;en&s;ible, both as I was a poore &s;ervant of Chri&s;t, and therefore bound to vindicate his cau&s;e a|gain&s;t Antichri&s;tian men: and al&s;o as a free borne &s;ubject of the king|dome, as one who ever prized the ju&s;t libertie of my birthright above this life it &s;elfe: I therefore thought how I might be&s;t acquit my duty both to God, and to his Church, and to my Country, in defending the cau&s;e of both.</P>
<P>To this purpo&s;e, on the fifth of Noxember, 1636 (being a day, by Act of Parliament to be &s;olemnized in an anniver&s;ary &s;olemne thank&s;|giving for that great deliverance of King and Parliament from the Gunpowder-trea&s;on, which Popi&s;h traytors con&s;pired to have execu|ted on that day, 1625) I preached (according to my cu&s;tome) two Sermons, taking for my Text <HI>Prov.</HI> 24. 21, 22. <HI>My &s;onne, feare thou the Lord and the King, and meddle not with them that are given to change: For their calamity &s;hall ari&s;e &s;uddenly, and who knoweth the ruine of them both?</HI> But before I proceed to a further relation hereof, let me tell you of a pa&s;&s;age or two falling out but a little before my troubles. The fir&s;t was this, A reverend godly Mini&s;ter (Mr <HI>William&s;on</HI> of <HI>Kent)</HI> having newly preached in my Church, upon <HI>Acts</HI> 21. 13. and we having &s;ome private conference of his Text and Sermon, I &s;aid to him in the clo&s;e, Well brother, I mu&s;t be an example hereof one day. The other was of a &s;trange dreame I had one night, not many dayes before this day came: I dreamed (lodging then at a deare friends hou&s;e in <HI>Stratford Bow</HI> neere <HI>London)</HI> that I &s;aw a mo&s;t magnificent Pallace, the like whereof I never &s;aw upon the earth; and therein a mo&s;t glo|rious throne erected, and in the throne Je&s;us Chri&s;t &s;itting in Maje&s;ty, but all alone, without any attendance of Angels or Saints about him, only there lay all along before the throne a man dead, with his feet
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towards Chri&s;t, and his face upward the other way. But after awhile the dead man was rai&s;ed up, and &s;tood upon his feet, looking towards the throne: Whereupon immediately there appeared about the throne an innumerable company of glorious Angels and Saints, exceedingly rejoycing and prai&s;ing God for re&s;toring life to that man. This dreame I told in the morning to my wife, and after that to my deare Chri&s;tian friends in the hou&s;e (all yet &s;urviving) to whom I al&s;o made this in|terpretation; that this dead man was the pre&s;ent Church of Chri&s;t, which now lay for dead, and none took the care of it but Chri&s;t alone; but after awhile Chri&s;t would re&s;tore his Church to life, and &s;et her in a glorious e&s;tate, as one rai&s;ed from the dead to the &s;tate of glory; and then all the holy Angels and Saints &s;hould rejoyce, and &s;ing Ha|lelujahs to him that &s;its upon the Throne. And this I told them &s;hould mo&s;t certainly come to pa&s;&s;e, and that &s;hortly, &s;o as they &s;hould live to &s;ee it. And &s;o being to goe to <HI>London</HI> that morning, I took my leave thereupon, &s;aying, Well, what ever come on it, I mu&s;t to my work. And this work proved to be that afore&s;aid <HI>(Nov.</HI> 5.) When having preached tho&s;e Sermons, I was not long after &s;ummoned by a Pur&s;ui|vant into the Engli&s;h Inqui&s;ition Court, the High Commi&s;&s;ion; from which I pre&s;ently appealed to the King: And becau&s;e I fore&s;aw that this would prove a publick cau&s;e, and putting no confidence either in my Appeale, or in the equity and innocency of my cau&s;e, or in the ju&s;t lawes of the Kingdome, being fallen into &s;uch times, wherein nor law, nor con&s;cience, nor innocency, nor ju&s;tice, nor clemency, nor hu|manity, could take place; but that &s;ome unju&s;t, odious cen&s;ure mu&s;t &s;tigmatize both the cau&s;e and the per&s;on: therefore I &s;hut my &s;elfe up in my hou&s;e, as in my pri&s;on, and there did compile my two &s;aid Ser|mons, with my Appeale, in one Book, to the end it might be publi&s;hed in print, as it was, &s;heet by &s;heet as I writ it; the while the Prelates Pur&s;uivants, tho&s;e barking Beagles, cea&s;ed not night nor day to watch, and rap, and ring at my doores, to have &s;urpri&s;ed me in that my Ca&s;tle, nor yet to &s;earch and hunt all the Printing hou&s;es about <HI>London,</HI> to have prevented the comming forth of my Book, which they heard to be at the Pre&s;&s;e. But God, by his good providence, &s;o prevented them, as nei|ther they could touch my per&s;on, before I had fini&s;hed my Book, nor yet prevent the publi&s;hing thereof, for all their unwearied &s;earch. And here I may not omit to magnifie the great Name of God, e&s;pecially for two things. Fir&s;t, for his admirable &s;trengthning and &s;upporting pre&s;ence in &s;o carrying up my &s;pirit all the while of my writing that Book, (en|tituled,
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<HI>For God and the King, together with the Appeale, &amp;c.)</HI> that not all the ince&s;&s;ant roarings, and ballings of tho&s;e beagles could either interrupt my work, or di&s;tract my thoughts, or di&s;courage my re&s;olu|tion, by any the lea&s;t apprehen&s;ion or feare of danger; but that with all cheerfulne&s;&s;e and invinciblene&s;&s;e of &s;pirit the work was fini&s;hed. Secondly, the Lords wonderfull Providence is here to be admired, in that the Pur&s;uivants had no power, either to apprehend my per&s;on, or to prevent the publi&s;hing of my Book: but ju&s;t that night, when I had received &s;ome dozens of Copies bound up, and the Books for the King and Councell were a binding up, and nor &s;ooner, nor later, having al&s;o newly concluded the Family-duties for that night, came the Ser|jeant at Armes, with his Mace, in the Bi&s;hop of <HI>Londons</HI> name, accom|panied with divers Pur&s;uivants, and other Officers; yea with the Sheriffe of <HI>London,</HI> with &s;words and halberds, and with pick-axes, fell a breaking up my doores, which being &s;trong, and I making no re|&s;i&s;tance, held them work till eleven of the Clock; They break in, &s;ur|pri&s;e my per&s;on, ran&s;ack my &s;tudy, carry away what Books they plea&s;ed, and carry me away pri&s;oner to a Con&s;tables hou&s;e for that night; and the next day at night, being Febr. 2. they had got a new warrant from the Councell Board, to carry me to pri&s;on in the Fleet, where I was kept clo&s;e pri&s;oner from wife, or friend, and &s;o remained for halfe a yeare, till I was removed to another pri&s;on, as you &s;hall heare anon. During my abode in the Fleet, I was &s;erved with a Writ into the Starre Chamber, to an&s;wer an information there again&s;t me, drawn up by the Kings Atturney in the Name of the King, not|with&s;tanding my &s;aid Appeale not yet repealed. But all is one for that. With much difficulty, being all along clo&s;e pri&s;oner, I get my An&s;wer drawne up by Coun&s;ell, and the &s;ame by &s;peciall Order of Starre-Chamber, admitted in Court upon my Oath to be a true An|&s;wer: Above a week after I heare, that the two Chiefe Ju&s;tices, by appointment of the Court, have quite expunged my An&s;wer and de|fence, contained in 80 &s;heets; leaving only the negative part, and that al&s;o of their owne patching together, contained in &s;ome halfe a dozen lines. Thus my An&s;wer in Court is left no An&s;wer of mine. After this comes the Examiner for my An&s;wer to his interrogatories, which was to be reckoned part of my An&s;wer in Court: But I an&s;wered him, that my An&s;wer in Court being wholly expunged, and &s;o made no An&s;wer of mine; I was not bound to an&s;wer the interrogatories. Hereupon I was brought into the Starre-Chamber, to be cen&s;ured by all tho&s;e ter|rible
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ones, <HI>pro confe&s;&s;o,</HI> as having refu&s;ed to put in my An&s;wer, when <NOTE PLACE="marg">Ier. 11. 21.</NOTE> indeed them&s;elves had put it our. What I then &s;pake for my &s;elfe by leave of the Court, which had already the day before &s;et downe my Cen&s;ure in black and white; and what the Cen&s;ure was, and by whom, I referre to the Relation of all the pa&s;&s;ages of our three &s;uffer|ings, &s;et forth at large in Print, 1641. Only thus much, when I &s;aw <NOTE PLACE="marg"><GAP DESC="illegible" REASON="faint" EXTENT="1 span"></NOTE> that they would proceed to cen&s;ure (notwith&s;tanding they did not, nor could object the lea&s;t crime in all my Book, <HI>For God and the King,</HI> but that they &s;aid, I was too &s;harp again&s;t the Prelates) having ob|tained leave to &s;peak, I &s;aid, My Lords, I perceive I am brought into a great &s;trait, that of nece&s;&s;ity I mu&s;t either de&s;ert my cau&s;e and my con&s;cience, or undergoe the Cen&s;ure of this Honourable Court: and therefore I doe without any further deliberation, choo&s;e rather to a|bide the Cen&s;ure of this Honourable Court, then to de&s;ert my Cau&s;e &amp; my con&s;cience. Here at the Audience gave a great humme. But when they came to the cen&s;ure, it was &s;o terrible, e&s;pecially the perpetuall clo&s;e impri&s;onment in a de&s;olate goale; that (le&s;t my &s;pirits &s;hould faint within me) I did there earne&s;tly in my heart entreat the Lord, that he would &s;trengthen me, and hold up my &s;pirits, that I might not any way di&s;honour the cau&s;e, or give tho&s;e terrible ones cau&s;e to triumph.</P>
<P>And at that very in&s;tant the Lord heard me, he put &s;uch &s;trength in me, as neither my &s;elfe, nor my two Brethren did once change counte|nance before tho&s;e terrible ones, &s;o as &s;ome of them afterwards &s;aid, that they never &s;aw three &s;uch men, who in&s;tead of being daunted, &s;o &s;tood before the Court, as if they had &s;it in the Judges place. And for|a&s;much as the night before a friend came to me in the <HI>Fleet,</HI> and told me he &s;aw my Cen&s;ure &s;et down in their Book, as &s;tanding on the Pil|lory, &amp;c. I did therefore that night <NOTE N="*" PLACE="marg"><GAP DESC="illegible" REASON="faint" EXTENT="2+ words"> <GAP DESC="foreign"> Exod. 19 4</NOTE> redouble my prayer to God, that he would &s;trengthen me at my Cen&s;ure, &s;o as I might not di&s;honour  him and his Cau&s;e the next day before that great Court. And imme|diately upon my prayer I was filled with a mighty &s;pirit of courage and re&s;olution, wherewith I was carried up farre above my &s;elfe, even as it were upon <HI>Eagles wings.</HI> And hereupon again I prayed, intrea|ting the Lord that he would be plea&s;ed to keep up my &s;pirits at that height, to the which he had now rai&s;ed them; the an&s;wer of which Prayer I found, not only all the next day of my Cen&s;ure, but through|out all my &s;ufferings, which that Cen&s;ure produced.</P>
<P>After the Cen&s;ure, (which was Deprivation, Degradation, &s;tan|ding on the Pillary two houres, lo&s;&s;e of both eares by the hangman,
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five thou&s;and pound fine to the King, perpetuall clo&s;e impri&s;onment in the Ca&s;tle of <HI>Lanca&s;ter,</HI> re&s;traint of all u&s;e of pen, inke, and paper) I was brought back to my clo&s;e pri&s;on in the <HI>Fleet (June</HI> 14. 1647.) where I waited till the day of Execution, which was the la&s;t day of <HI>June.</HI> In the interim, my wife, with Mr. <HI>Bastwicke,</HI> plyed the King with their pittifull complaining Petitions and deprecations, for the taking off, or at lea&s;t the mitigating of the execution: but a little be|fore the day came, a voyce was heard in the Starre-Chamber, uttered by the Atturney-Generall, That it was the Kings plea&s;ure, the Cen&s;ure of tho&s;e 3. men &s;hould be executed to the uttermo&s;t: So as the execu|tion proved to be as void of Mercy, as the Cen&s;ure was of Ju&s;tice. The night before the Execution, I did, as before the Cen&s;ure, addre&s;&s;e my &s;elfe by earne&s;t prayer for divine &s;upport in the acting of that Trage|dy upon the &s;caffold of publick reproach. Filled I was with exceeding alacrity of truly Heroicall, and Chri&s;tianly magnanimous re&s;olution. My two &s;upporters (next under God) were, the noblene&s;&s;e and pure innocency of the Cau&s;e, and the uprightne&s;&s;e and integrity of my con|&s;cience With the&s;e I went on foot the next morning from the Fleet to the place of Execution at <HI>We&s;tmin&s;ter,</HI> farre better guarded, then with tho&s;e many halberds and weapons that attended me. My wife had the favour to goe all along with me, going together with this equipage, as to the celebration of our marriage. When I came in &s;ight of the Pillary, my &s;pirit was mightily cheered, and my heart rai&s;ed up to a <NOTE PLACE="marg">Mr. <HI>Price</HI> in Cole|man Pre<GAP DESC="illegible" REASON="faint" EXTENT="1 letter">t L<GAP DESC="illegible" REASON="missing" EXTENT="1 letter">ndon.</NOTE> higher pitch of joy. I &s;aid to one, a little before my going up to the Pillary, I &s;hall this day preach downe Antichri&s;t in the Pillary: And &s;ay nothing, replyed he: yea, &s;aid I, and &s;ay nothing. This was omit|ted in the Relation forementioned. All the while I &s;tood in the Pillary, I thought my &s;elfe to be in Heaven, and in a &s;tate of glory and tri|umph, if any &s;uch &s;tate can po&s;&s;ibly be on earth. I found tho&s;e words of <HI>Peter</HI> uerified on me in the Pillary, <HI>If ye be reproached for the Name of Chri&s;t, happy are ye; for the &s;pirit of glory and of God re&s;teth upon you,</HI> <NOTE PLACE="marg">1 Pet. 4. 14.</NOTE> <HI>which on their part is bla&s;phemed, but on yours, glorified.</HI> For my re|joycing and glorying was &s;o great all the while, without intermi&s;&s;ion, in the Pillary, that I can no more expre&s;&s;e it, then <HI>Paul</HI> could his ra|vi&s;hments in the third heaven: &s;o as I could be&s;t, and mo&s;t truly &s;ay <NOTE PLACE="marg">2 Cor. 12.</NOTE> Amen to tho&s;e words of a godly woman, going along in the troope neere Charing Cro&s;&s;e, at my returne from bani&s;hment to <HI>London,</HI> (which God was al&s;o plea&s;ed to cloth with &s;o great glory) &s;he &s;aid to me, O Sir, this is a glorious wedding day; to whom I replied, It is
<PB N="14" REF="11">
indeed, ble&s;&s;ed be God; I, &s;aid &s;he, but your wedding day on the Pil|lary was much more glorious: I admiring the womans &s;peech, an&s;werd, It is indeed mo&s;t true, good woman, ble&s;&s;ed be our God.</P>
<P>After the execution, I was carried againe the &s;ame day to my Fleet-pri&s;on, where mine eares, after the Chirurgions bloodletting, were a healing till towards the end of July; when, before they were quite healed, I was ha&s;tened away to <HI>Lanca&s;ter,</HI> July 28. having &s;aid the night before to a religious Matron of <HI>London</HI> vi&s;iting of me, I mu&s;t now (&s;aid I) prepare for my exile, not thinking then of any further exile, then <HI>Lancaster</HI> Ca&s;tle, being an exile in mine owne Countrey. On the day appointed I pa&s;&s;ed on hor&s;eback from the Fleet through Smithfield, where for throng of people all along I could not pa&s;&s;e, but very &s;lowly, though the Keeper ha&s;tened all he could, who fretted to &s;ee &s;o many thou&s;ands all the way we went, he reckoning the number to be forty thou&s;and. By the way &s;o many taking me by the hand, pre&s;&s;ed the very blood out at my fingers ends, but with another minde then the great ones drew the blood out at mine eares. I rid to S. <HI>Albons</HI> that night, being accompanied all the way with above five hundred hor&s;e of loving friends, which the Keeper al&s;o much envyed. Many &s;taid there all night, but were not &s;uffered to &s;up with me, no nor to &s;ee my face. Nay the Keeper was &s;o &s;trict, that he would &s;carce &s;uffer my wife, who went along, to dre&s;&s;e mine eares. Comming to <HI>Daventry,</HI> it exceedingly refre&s;hed me, that I had the &s;ight, and a little &s;ociety of that holy and reverend Father, Mr <HI>John Dod,</HI> who came two or three miles off to &s;ee me; as al&s;o his effectuall &s;ervant prayer for me and my wife, calling me his &s;onne, and her his daughter. At <HI>Coventry</HI> two wor|thy and reverend brethren, Mr <HI>Nalton,</HI> and Mr <HI>Hughes,</HI> with their wives, came al&s;o to &s;alute me and bid me farewell; In our &s;hort di&s;|cour&s;e, they rejoycing and congratulating Gods gracious and mighty a&s;&s;i&s;ting of me in my &s;uffering, and my happine&s;&s;e therein: I an&s;wered, I have cau&s;e to ble&s;&s;e God more for this &s;uffering, then for all outward ble&s;&s;ings in the world, and I account this to be one great part of my happine&s;&s;e, that I have now ca&s;t off that yoke of the Prelates, under which I had &s;o long groaned; but I promi&s;e you, &s;aid I, it did cling and cleave &s;o clo&s;e to my neck, that I could not &s;hift it off, but that it &s;haved off mine eares. And when at our parting they were very &s;ad; I laboured to comfort them, &s;aying, Come be not &s;ad; for three yeares and a halfe hence we &s;hall meet againe and be merry: which I &s;pake alluding to the three dayes and a halfe, the time of the two witne&s;&s;es
<PB N="15" REF="11">
lying unburied; of which &s;peech we &s;hall have occa&s;ion to &s;peak more anon.</P>
<P>There al&s;o one of tho&s;e godly women, &s;aying unto me, O &s;ir you are in a happy e&s;tate, you are pa&s;t all danger, and &s;ure of Heaven; but for us, what &s;hall we doe? I replyed, that the a&s;&s;urance of Heaven can|not &s;ecure us from manifold temptations and afflictions, and &s;nares of Satan, &s;o long as we live in the&s;e hou&s;es of clay. And therefore we have need continually to &s;tand upon our watch and ward, and to pray one for another, having &s;o malicious and unwearied an Adver&s;ary, whom neither clo&s;e impri&s;onment, nor Iron Gates and Barres can hinder from a&s;&s;aulting us.</P>
<P>On the 3. of <HI>August,</HI> being &s;acurday, we came to <HI>Lanca&s;ter,</HI> and on the 5. being Monday, the Keeper brought me into the Ca&s;tle, where the Keeper thereof, under the Sheriffe, received me. There he &s;itting in <HI>John</HI> of <HI>Gaunts</HI> old Chaire, fell to &s;peak his plea&s;ure of me, and to cen|&s;ure me for what I had done: To whom I &s;aid, Sir it is your office to be my Goaler, not my Judge. Well, in &s;hort, lodging he had none for me, no bedding, no furniture, &s;o as if he had not been injoyned to keep me up clo&s;e, that none &s;hould come at me, he would &s;urely have put me among the common Theeves and Rogues in the common Jayle. For he would find no other roome for me, but a va&s;t de&s;olate roome within the Iron Gate of the Common Goale, where none had layne for almo&s;t twenty yeeres, where was nothing but bare cold walls, and tho&s;e with wide and ruinous clefts to let in the cold winds; and win|dowes, having iron barres outward, and wodden barres in the mid&s;t, both to let in the wind, and to let me from putting forth my head &s;o much as to &s;ee, or take breath in a calme: So as had not my wife been there to provide a bed, and other nece&s;&s;aries for my better accomoda|tion, the bea&s;tly man had &s;uffered me to lye and dye by the cold walls. The doore al&s;o of the roome was open below, &s;o as when the cold North, or North-ea&s;t wind did blow, it fild it both with cold and &s;moake, that no fire could be made in the colde&s;t time. It was &s;uch a mi&s;erable lodging, that when after my removall from thence, &s;ome Londoners, my friends, being at <HI>Lanca&s;ter,</HI> de&s;ired of the Keeper, to &s;ee the roome where I lay; he would not &s;uffer it, for very &s;hame. Yea though the roome had a Leads over, and &s;tayres leading to them out of the room, yet during all the time that I continued there, I could not obtaine one breathing while, or one turne on tho&s;e Leads. And the room had one quality more, that I could not walk in it, for it was
<PB N="16" REF="12">
flooted with thick planks that were round upward, and &s;o di&s;tant one from another, that I could not &s;et one &s;tep, but I mu&s;t look to every footing. Two poore men, whereof one was a Papi&s;t, lodged in the roome continually: I bought them two Primmers to teach them to read, but I could never get them to &s;pend with me one quarter of an houre. One morning <HI>Lawrence</HI> the Papi&s;t comming up, and &s;itting downe, I asked him if we &s;hould begin now to learne to read? he &s;aid, no Sir, not to day. Why <HI>Lawrence,</HI> &s;aid I? For it is (quoth he) S. <HI>Lawrence</HI> day: I could not per&s;wade him. My wife provided my diet, but they would not &s;uffer her maid to bring it to the top of the &s;taires, to my doore, th<GAP DESC="illegible" REASON="faint" EXTENT="1 letter">t &s;he might &s;ee it &s;afely delivered, and &s;ee me al&s;o to carry her mi&s;tre&s;&s;e word that I was alive and well. Very jealous they were of conveying letters, &s;o as when my maid brought a &s;hirt ayred for me, they would &s;hake it open, and &s;o ayre it indeed after their fa&s;hion. One morning as &s;oone as I was up, by rea&s;on of the coldne&s;&s;e of the roome, I was taken with a terrible fit of the Collick, &s;o as <HI>Lawrence</HI> comming up, told me I lookt like death. I went to bed againe, but nor he, nor any el&s;e mu&s;t &s;tay by me, to help me, or look to me: for in truth their intent was to take the advantage of any &s;ick|ne&s;&s;e, thereby to make an end of me. I was then extreme ill for two houres, even unto death. But my good Keeper was with me, and I pleaded with him, that &s;eeing he had put me there, and that for his cau&s;e, and had deprived me of all outward helps and comforts, he &s;tood charged with me; &s;o as if I mi&s;carried, it mu&s;t be under his hand, and the like. Thus I lay pleading, till at length it plea&s;ed him by a &s;trange way to remove the malady. This was the only fit of &s;ickne&s;&s;e that I had in that pri&s;on. It was &s;ufficient to di&s;cover their murtherous in|tents, and what I mu&s;t tru&s;t to, if I were &s;ick, none mu&s;t come at me. And, to adde to their cruelties, there was a dark roome under mine, where they put five witches, with one of their children, which made &s;uch a helli&s;h noi&s;e night and day, that I &s;eemed then to be in hell, or at lea&s;t in &s;ome Popi&s;h Purgatory, the Region next above hell, as the Papi&s;ts tell us: &s;o as now I was deprived of the &s;weetne&s;&s;e of my privacy, and of the only &s;olace of my &s;olitary pri&s;on, when I could not either pray, or meditate, or yet &s;leep quietly. In the Goale I did of|ten &s;olace my &s;elfe with &s;inging of P&s;almes, which (as I afterwards under&s;tood) did mightily, as on the one &s;ide comfort the better minded people, &s;o on the other, vex the malignant or Popi&s;h party. And their malice herein appeared the more, that they had roome enough el&s;where
<PB N="17" REF="12">
in the Ca&s;tle to be&s;tow the&s;e witches in, who had continued a long time there. But my wife, with great and long importunity, prevailed to have them at length removed. Well, <HI>in fine,</HI> my two Keepers brought it out very &s;hily, that I was to be removed further off into bani&s;h|ment, into an Iland; but they could not, or would not tell me whi|ther; For they were le&s;&s;oned to conceale all things from me. Well, the time of my removeall approacheth: it mu&s;t be &s;ome night; I mu&s;t not know it till over night late. My wife having &s;ome inkling of it, prepared nece&s;&s;aries for my journey, and &s;ent them before to <HI>Leverpoole</HI> as I directed her. On the fir&s;t of November very early, being yet dark, I was brought out of the Ca&s;tle, where the Sheriffe was atten|ding with hor&s;es. So &s;oone as I was out at the gates of the Ca&s;tle, I did before them all put off my hat, and &s;olemnly ble&s;&s;ed God, &s;aying, Al|though I know not whither I am going, but whither God will; yet I thank God, that I am out at the&s;e gates. The Keeper <HI>Couel,</HI> being vexed at this, &s;aid, But you are here yet: But I ble&s;&s;e God (&s;aid I) that I am out at the&s;e gates. My Children were there, for whom I had over night, with much importunity, obtained, that they might &s;ee their father, and he them, before he went; but I mu&s;t only &s;alute them, &s;carce &s;peak one word to them to comfort them. It was the la&s;t fare|well of my deare daughter, whom I never &s;aw after. So I parted from <HI>Lanca&s;ter,</HI> after I had beene there almo&s;t thirteene weeks. A pri&s;on it was, where for the extreme coldne&s;&s;e of it, I could not in all likelihood have out-lived one winter. In which re&s;pect I took it as a great mercy of God, that I was &s;oremoved thence, in hope I might come to a bet|ter place, I was &s;ure not a wor&s;e. At <HI>Pre&s;ton</HI> we lodged that night, where no importunity could prevaile with the Sheriffe for my wife to have one &s;ight of me, much le&s;&s;e to &s;peak a word to me. The next day we lodged at <HI>Leverpoole,</HI> where on the next day after I was attended with the Sheriffe, with the Maior, and their Officers, who brought me to the water &s;ide, and there &s;aw me &s;afely imbarked: Only by the way one favour I had, that I could &s;ee my dear wife &s;tanding aloof all alone on the &s;and till I came and bid her farewell, and &s;o pa&s;&s;ed away; only I &s;aid unto her at parting, Wife, be of good comfort, God is working. At <HI>Leverpoole,</HI> and not before, they &s;hewed me the Order for what place I was bound, which was the Ile and Ca&s;tle of <HI>Guern&s;ey.</HI> This put me in minde, and taught me the meaning of a dreame that I had in the Fleet, after the Execution. I dreamed, that I was a&s;&s;ailed with a huge, fierce, and furious Bull, who came running full-but at me twice,
<PB N="18" REF="13">
but being tied at a great Cable rope, he could not pa&s;&s;e the length of the Cable, but there &s;top raging that he could not reach me. Now I found, that this dreame did portend my voyage by &s;ea, to &s;uch a place, beyond which the Ship-cable reached not, for the Bull to have his will on me, which was to de&s;troy me.</P>
<P>Another dreame, after this, I had in the Fleet, a night or two after, which was, that &s;undry friends being at dinner with me. I &s;aw a Fox couching downe behinde them, and watching to &s;natch away their Victuals: wherupon I e&s;pying a book lying neere at hand, took it up and flapt it upon the Fox, taking him by the neck with my right hand, and holding him up aloft, and &s;aying to the company, Loe, here is the Fox that would cou&s;en us all of our Victuals. The Book was ju&s;t of the &s;ame volume, binding, cover, colour and bigne&s;&s;e, that the Arch-bi&s;hop of <HI>Canterburies</HI> Book was, entituled, <HI>A Relation of a Conference</HI> &amp;c. which I did fir&s;t &s;ee at <HI>Gern&s;ey.</HI> And when afterwards I &s;aw the Reply to the &s;ame Relation publi&s;hed in Print; what was this, but the di&s;covery of the &s;ubtle Fox to all the company? But this by the way as by anticipation.</P>
<P>Now to returne to our Bark. When I was, by the Sheriffe, and Maior, coopt up clo&s;e in my cabin, where they left me: about an houre after I was &s;uffered to come forth upon the deck to take a little breath, the Bark then being a ground; and there I could not containe my &s;elfe, but brake out into a triumphant exultation before all the people, rejoycing that now I was, as it were, &s;eparated from the world, ha|ving for&s;aken my native Countrey; and ble&s;&s;ing God, that I had now overcome the world, bequeathing my wife and children to God, and my &s;elfe to Heaven. Whereat all the beholders were a&s;toni&s;hed, and &s;undry of them much &s;trengthned by my example.</P>
<P>On the Lords day at night, being the fifth of <HI>November,</HI> lying &s;till at anchor in the road at <HI>Leverpoole,</HI> the wind not yet &s;erving, there was a mo&s;t terrible tempe&s;t lay upon us, which made the Bark to crack againe, being anchor-driven upon a flat rock; where it had like to have beaten it &s;elfe to peeces, both in the flowing and ebbing of the water; there being at that time, in the &s;ame broad river, another Bark wracked in our view: But it plea&s;ed God to pre|&s;erve us. Yet our Bark had, with that &s;torme, &s;prung a leake; which though the Carpenter did his be&s;t to mend it, yet it trou|bled us all our voyage, and put us to pumping every halfe houre.</P>
<P><PB N="19" REF="13">
The &s;ame night the &s;torme drave away out of <HI>Dublin</HI> River twenty Ve&s;&s;els into the Channell, mo&s;t of which were not heard of a month after, &s;aving onely foure, and the re&s;t not heard of at all, during our riding there.</P>
<P>The man, appointed by the High-Sheriffe of <HI>Lanca&s;hire</HI> Mr. <HI>Kirby,</HI> to take the charge of me to <HI>Guern&s;ey,</HI> was one <HI>Burton,</HI> the mo&s;t notori|ous K. in all the Shire. He would have had my wife to &s;end me 30 or 40. pound, but got of her 6. pound (&s;o much as &s;he could, yet with diffi|culty, &s;pare) which he undertook to deliver to me; but defrauded both her and me of it. When we came within the barre of <HI>Dublin</HI> River, there we lay at Anchor a whole month, all which time this <HI>Burton</HI> &s;waggered in <HI>Dublin</HI> with that &s;ix pound, and not once either came or &s;ent to me &s;o much as one Bottle of wine, or one joynt of fre&s;h meat, to refre&s;h me, while tumbled and to&s;&s;ed on tho&s;e waters. But (which is yet wor&s;e) this <HI>Burton,</HI> with his mates, though the Barke was hired for the King, onely to tran&s;port me, yet fraighted the Barke with raw Hides, which &s;o pe&s;tered &amp; infe&s;ted us, that for my part, it had almo&s;t poy&s;oned me with the continuall &s;tinch, a thing mo&s;t odious to my nature. But all that I could doe (which was ju&s;t nothing) would not not help it, I threatned <HI>Burton,</HI> that I would (&s;miling to my &s;elfe) com|plain of him to the King for &s;o abu&s;ing his pri&s;oner, but hee cared no more for it, then if I had threatned to tell the Arch-bi&s;hop of <HI>Canter|bury.</HI></P>
<P>Having thus &s;pent ju&s;t 28. dayes in <HI>Dublin</HI> River, the wind com|ming about a little, we &s;et &s;ayle and were in great jeopardy by the coa&s;t of <HI>Ireland,</HI> between the &s;hoare and the &s;helves, or beds of &s;ands that lye all along, the wind blowing hard from off the &s;hoare, and the Barke often cracking under us, I lying all the while in the bottome of the Barke, as <HI>Jonas</HI> in the Whales belly, when almo&s;t all hope of &s;afe|ty was taken away, the Ma&s;ter crying to the Steer&s;-man, and he an|&s;wering, that he could doe no more. Still the Pumpe was going, but by Gods mercy we e&s;caped. I was extremely Sea-&s;ick both from <HI>Eng|land</HI> to <HI>Ireland,</HI> and from thence till we came almo&s;t to <HI>Guern&s;ey,</HI> even nigh unto death. By the way we touched at <HI>Milford</HI> Haven, and la&s;t of all I tooke my farewell of <HI>England</HI> at the Bay of <HI>Dartmouth,</HI> being not permitted to take the lea&s;t refre&s;hing on Land after my embarking either at <HI>Leverpool;</HI> where we floated 7. dayes, or in <HI>Ireland,</HI> or in <HI>Eng|land.</HI> In &s;even dayes more we pa&s;&s;ed from <HI>Ireland</HI> to <HI>Guern&s;ey,</HI> and &s;o, after our voyage by Sea from <HI>England</HI> thither, which was for 42.
<PB N="20" REF="14">
dayes, or &s;ix weekes, by Gods mercy we arrived at <HI>Guern&s;ey,</HI> lodging the fir&s;t night in the Towne in the Iland. The next day, being Satur|day, I was conveyed over that part of the Sea, which divideth the I|land from the Ca&s;tle, where I was received by the Lieutenant Mr. <HI>Na|thaniel Darrell,</HI> a Noble Gentleman born in <HI>Kent,</HI> which gave me hope to find courteous u&s;age, remembring the prai&s;e that <HI>Cae&s;ar</HI> of old gave to the people of <HI>Kent,</HI> that they were the mo&s;t civill and courte|ous <NOTE PLACE="marg">Iul. Cae&s;a. Comment.</NOTE> people of all <HI>Britaine.</HI> And truly &s;o I found him: For although my fir&s;t lodging in the Ca&s;tle was in a low Chamber, the window whereof was on the out-&s;ide compa&s;&s;ed in round with boards, a yard di&s;tant from the window, only to let in Light, &s;o as I might not looke out to &s;ee either Earth or Sea, but onely up to heaven-ward (like to a pinned Pigeon, to make &s;port for the Faulkoner) and many times I was &s;o &s;canted for ayre, as I was glad to &s;tand upon a forme to &s;uck in a little breath thorow a broken pane in the top of the window: Yet I a&s;&s;ure my &s;elfe it &s;hould not have been &s;o, if either the Lieutenant, or the Governours of the Ca&s;tle could have helped it. I merrily told the Gentleman porter of the Ca&s;tle, my Country-man, one morning wal|king a turn or two with me in the room, pointing to the Boards before the window, &s;aying, You deal with me here, as they do in our Country with a mad Bull, when they put a board before his face.</P>
<P>I continued in this roome 16. weekes, not once going forth into the open ayre. And yet (&s;ee the goodne&s;&s;e of my heavenly Keeper) I was not once &s;ick in that roome, to keep my bed one day; no nor was I ever more cheerfull in all my life, then in that very pri&s;on, as where I could every day dance my &s;inke apace, either when I was cold, or wanted breathing, or for exerci&s;e. So as the clo&s;e pri&s;on was to me as a mo&s;t princely Palace, or Paradi&s;e of plea&s;ure; and &s;uch as the old Ser|pent could not &s;o ea&s;ily cheat me of the happine&s;&s;e of, as he did our fir&s;t Parents of that earthly Paradi&s;e. For in all my &s;traits, &s;till as I re|flected upon the cau&s;e for which I &s;uffered all the&s;e things, my heart leaped for joy, and I could not contain my &s;elfe, but that my body al&s;o &s;prang and jumped in my chamber, even with the like &s;pirit of ala|crity, (I dare &s;ay) as <HI>David</HI> danced before the Arke. And all this while from my fir&s;t entrance into my &s;uffering, and all along to the very la&s;t, in all my impri&s;onment, in all my bani&s;hment, in my &s;eparation from my loving and beloved wife, and children, and friends, this &s;eparation having no other bounds (in the boundle&s;&s;e tyrannicall Cen&s;ure) then perpetuity it &s;elfe: yet I was &s;o far from accounting all this &s;uffering as
<PB N="21" REF="14">
any the lea&s;t affliction to me at all, as that I held and valued, and injoy|ed it as my chiefe joy, my glory, and my Crown, and the greate&s;t hap|pine&s;&s;e that ever God vouch&s;afed unto me in all my life; and thus it continued without any intermi&s;&s;ion, or interruption untill God was plea&s;ed to relea&s;e me from my bonds. And one thing I may not omit, how gentilely carefull and re&s;pective Mr. Lieutenant was of me all the time of my being pri&s;oner in the Ca&s;tle, to provide good and whole|&s;ome dyet for me, the be&s;t that the Iland and Sea afforded, which hee &s;ent me warme from his own Table.</P>
<P>Well, after 16. weeks I was preferred to a better lodging, where I might locke out at my window over the Sea Ea&s;tward. I accounted this a very high degree of preferment. Whence al&s;o, after one halfe yeere more, by the comming, and favour of the honourable Gover|nour of the Ca&s;tle and Ilands of <HI>Guern&s;ey,</HI> I was advanced to the next Chamber above it, which was the highe&s;t Chamber in the Ca&s;tle, and had one window Southward, and another Ea&s;tward, yeelding me a faire pro&s;pect to the Sea from South to North, which was a great recreation to me. Yea, God made every thing a Recreation; the making of mine owne Bed, and the &s;weeping of my Chamber, was as an exerci&s;e of my body, &s;o a recreation of my minde. For though it might &s;eeme a &s;trange alteration, from having been a pub|like <NOTE N="*" PLACE="marg"><HI>Act.</HI> 19. 35 <GAP DESC="foreign">.</NOTE> &s;weeper of Soules, to become now a poore &s;weeper of my pri|&s;on; yet the con&s;ideration for what, and whom I had undergone &s;uch a &s;uffering condition, I rejoyced in this &s;ervice, and was ready to become yet more vile for his &s;ake, who humbled him&s;elfe to become a &s;ervant for me, and who had honoured me with &s;o high an office of a &s;ufferer for his Sake.</P>
<P>Being thus &s;weetly accommodated for lodging, quiet from all noy|&s;es, and having gotten about me my Bibles in Hebrew, Greeke, La|tine, French, &amp;c. As al&s;o the Eccle&s;ia&s;ticall Hi&s;tory in Greeke, I made the&s;e my daily exerci&s;e; It was my daily recreation to take my Eng|li&s;h Te&s;tament, and without the Greeke, to read the Engli&s;h into Greeke, which I did with the like facility, as to read Engli&s;h; and then I did compare my Greeke with the Greeke Te&s;tament, to &s;ee wherein I differed in any word, putting one <GAP DESC="foreign"> for another, and the like. In which, and other conveniences, which that lodging affor|ded for &s;tudy and privacy, I began now to &s;ee more clearely then be|fore the &s;peciall providence of God, in bringing me out of <HI>Lancaster</HI> Goale to that Ca&s;tle: For had I continued in <HI>Lanca&s;ter</HI> Ca&s;tle (be&s;ides
<PB N="22" REF="15">
the hard&s;hip of lodging, cold, and other u&s;age) I could never have en|joyed that opportunity of &s;tudy, which I had at <HI>Geru&s;ey;</HI> there being at <HI>Lancaster</HI> one Dr. <HI>Wildbore</HI> who had alwayes a malignant a&s;pect, and watchfull eye over me; I could not have a booke, but by his per|mi&s;&s;ion, he being one of the Prelates Prie&s;ts and Creatures, a double Beneficed man, and an heire apparent to a Bi&s;hopricke, which he ho|ped to merit by his good &s;ervice, in keeping a &s;trict watch over me. But (ble&s;&s;ed, be God) at <HI>Guern&s;ey</HI> Ca&s;tle, though none could be more carefull then Mr. Lievtenant in ob&s;erving the Court-Orders to keep me from the u&s;e of pen, ink, and paper, even for my private &s;tudies, though I earne&s;tly de&s;ired him, promi&s;ing him, if I might enjoy that favour, I would write nothing that might procure him any di&s;plea&s;ure or trouble: And &s;urely had he upon my promi&s;e granted my &s;uite, I had been true to him: But my heavenly Keeper provided otherwi&s;e for me what I de&s;ired. For through his good providence I had an art to make inke, and for pennes I had goo&s;e wings, which were to &s;weep the du&s;t off my windowes, and for paper, a private friend in <HI>Guern&s;ey</HI> towne &s;upplyed me, for all the &s;trict watch and ward that was kept about me by my keeper: in the u&s;e of all the&s;e I was &s;o wary, that while any was comming up the &s;taires, I had time to convey all away, that ne|ver any of my keepers could &s;ee either pen, ink, or paper, in my cham|ber. By this meanes, through Gods mercifull a&s;&s;i&s;tance, I writ the Re|ply to the Relation, which being fini&s;hed, I &s;ent away for <HI>England</HI> by the fore&s;aid private friend. After this, upon a &s;econd revi&s;all, I writ a Supply to the Reply; but this was never printed: I writ al&s;o an an&s;wer to Dr. <HI>Halls</HI> Epi&s;copacy by divine right: But neither was this printed. For the reply did very hardly e&s;cape the Bi&s;hops beagles, hunting it up and downe, while it was a printing; but the &s;ame providence which pre&s;erved and produced that <HI>For God and the King,</HI> pre&s;erved this al&s;o, and brought it forth to light. I writ al&s;o &s;undry other things, &s;ome of which came to light, and &s;ome mi&s;carried. The writings flowed from me with &s;uch an affluence and facility, that they were no labour to me, but a recreation: and neither did my writing abate my reading, nor my reading hinder my writing: For both I read &s;o much every day (being up early and late) as if I had writ nothing: and I writ &s;o much, as if I had done nothing el&s;e. Now concerning the Reply; therein was verefied the dream I &s;pake of, which I had in the Fleet, concerning the Fox: The fox proved to be the Archbi&s;hop of Canterbury: The Booke that was flapt upon the lurking fox, which was iu&s;t of the &s;ame
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volume, bynding, cover, colour, bigne&s;&s;e with the Relation, was Can|terburies Relation it &s;elfe retorted upon him; the right hand that held up the fox by the neck, to &s;hew his fox-like fraud to all the company, was the right hand which writ the Reply to that foxes Relation, whereby through his cunning &s;ophi&s;try, and notorious hypocri&s;ie he thought to have gulled all <HI>England</HI> of the Go&s;pell; and &s;et up the Ro|mi&s;h Ma&s;&s;e in &s;tead thereof, as the Reply hath plainly di&s;covered. Thus both my fore&s;aid dreams in my Fleet-pri&s;on were made up in <HI>Guern&s;ey</HI> Ca&s;tle pri&s;on, where the &s;trong cables end of Gods provi|dence &s;tayed the fury of that Bea&s;t or Bull from pu&s;hing at me, &s;o as he could not, for all his Bull-like power, and fox-like craft and policy, hinder that worke, whereby the fox was unca&s;ed: which title I had given to the Reply, calling it, The unca&s;ing of the fox; but that I thought a more moderate title would better &s;uit with the fury of tho&s;e times, in ca&s;e any &s;parke of common rea&s;on had been left for right rea|&s;on to worke upon.</P>
<P>Againe, although, when fir&s;t I heard of an Order from the Lords to take my wife pri&s;oner, in ca&s;e &s;he &s;hould come to <HI>Guern&s;ey</HI> Iland to enquire after her husband, whether he were alive or dead, I thought it hard: Yet after it plea&s;ed God to enable and imploy me in tho&s;e &s;er|vices afore&s;aid, I &s;aw another cleare evidence of divine providence in keeping my wife from me for a time, that &s;o her &s;ociety might not be any impeachment or impediment (at that time) to my imploy|ments there. Thus the Lord turned all the&s;e things to co-operate for good.</P>
<P>In this interim, I heard of the good plea&s;ure of God, in taking away my deare and only daughter. It was a little before &s;upper that Mr <HI>Lievtenant</HI> began darkly to intimate the &s;ame unto me, untill I prayed him to deale plainly with me, which he then did: whereupon craving pardon, I immediately retired to my lodging, and there on my knees gave the Lord &s;olemne thanks, that it had plea&s;ed him to tran&s;late my daughter, now his alone, into his Kingdome of glory, after he had fitted her to be a Virgin Spou&s;e for her husband Je&s;us Chri&s;t. For a holy and &s;weet conditioned Maid &s;he was ever from her childhood, being now growne marriageable, and now for ever married unto Je&s;us Chri&s;t. This was &s;he that &s;aid (as afore) <HI>It mu&s;t be &s;o, it must be &s;o.</HI> Now the rea&s;on, why I thus gave thanks to God upon this newes of the death of my daughter, was my a&s;&s;urance that &s;he was now in heaven: &s;o as I did not &s;hed a teare for her death, no more then I did
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at my parting with her and her brother at <HI>Lanca&s;ter</HI> Ca&s;tle, or with my wife at <HI>Leverpoole</HI> &s;ands; as not daring in publike to blemi&s;h the <NOTE PLACE="marg">Siccis o|culis ad Chri&s;ti vexillum vol<GAP DESC="illegible" REASON="faint" EXTENT="1 letter">. <HI>Hier.</HI></NOTE> cau&s;e of my &s;uffering with one teare for any worldly lo&s;&s;e: Although otherwi&s;e I wanted not expre&s;&s;ions, in my privacy, of both loyall affections to my wife, and naturall bowels to my children.</P>
<P>On <HI>April</HI> 25. 1640. I &s;et the day apart to &s;eek God, e&s;pecially for his Church, which then lay under great pre&s;&s;ures; wherein having &s;pent the day till foure of the clock in the afternoone, I walked two or three turnes in my Chamber, and being very &s;ad, and di&s;con&s;olate becau&s;e I had not, as at other times upon the like occa&s;ion, received an an&s;wer of comfort from God, and being &s;omewhat faint with ab&s;ti|nence and clo&s;ene&s;&s;e of the roome, I opened that window which looks into the &s;ea ea&s;tward, to take a little ayre, the &s;ea comming as neere the &s;hore on that &s;ide, as that I might from my window throw an ap|ple into it: thus looking forth, by and by there was pre&s;ented before the window a Rainbow, lying flat all along upon the &s;ea, with the <NOTE PLACE="marg">A &s;trange and mira|culous Rainbow.</NOTE> two ends clo&s;e to the &s;hore, and the bow from me ward: it was a per|fect and entire Rainbow; but becau&s;e it did not, as ordinary Rain|bowes, &s;tand upright, but lay flat upon the &s;ea, it filled me with won|derment; and &s;o much the more, becau&s;e looking both upwards and downwards, I &s;aw no cloud for the Rainbow to &s;ub&s;i&s;t in, neither was the ayre moi&s;t, it being a dry windy day. I ob&s;erved indeed (putting my head forth at the window, and looking upwards) many broken little clouds driven away with the wind, but never a one large enough for &s;uch a Rainbow; and the clouds moved apace, and pa&s;&s;ed away, but the Rainbow abode &s;till for the &s;pace of half a quarter of an houre, keeping its po&s;ture, lying flat and &s;teddy upon the &s;ea; whereby it plainly appeared to be no naturall and ordinary Rainbow, but &s;uper-naturall and miraculous. Mine eyes were taken up with beholding, and my minde with admiring it, till at length whole, as it was at fir&s;t, it began to withdraw it &s;elfe whole as it was towards the North-ea&s;t, towards <HI>England:</HI> I &s;aw it move thus for the &s;pace of two leagues, ly|ing flat upon the &s;ea, till it vani&s;hed out of my &s;ight. Hereupon I be|gan to be amu&s;ed in my &s;elfe, what this &s;hould meane: I was per|&s;waded, that God had &s;ent this Rainbow to me for &s;ome &s;peciall u&s;e, that I &s;hould make of it: But I knew not, nor could imagine what. I prayed againe, that the Lord would be plea&s;ed to &s;hew me what u&s;e to make of it. I hereupon ca&s;t my thoughts upon the fir&s;t Rainbow in <HI>Gene&s;is;</HI> but that was &s;et in the cloud, and for a &s;igne of Gods Co|venant, <NOTE PLACE="marg">Gen. 9. 12, 13.</NOTE>
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that he would no more de&s;troy the world by a flood of waters. But what is this Rainbow to that? This is without a cloud, and lies flat upon the &s;ea. Well, this interpretation I made of it: That fora&s;|much as I had earne&s;tly &s;ought God for his Church that day, and had not received an an&s;wer of comfort, and being &s;ad, God thereupon (without any my &s;eeking of a &s;igne) pre&s;ented before me a miraculous Rainbow; I took it to be &s;ent of God, as an an&s;wer to my prayers that day, and to be a &s;igne to a&s;&s;ure me, that he would certainly and miraculou&s;ly deliver his Church, which now lay floating upon the &s;eas of affliction, ready to be &s;wallowed up. Upon this interpretation I was &s;o &s;atisfied, and filled with pre&s;ent comfort, being fully per&s;wa|ded of the truth thereof, that I was never &s;ad after upon any &s;uch oc|ca&s;ion: and when at any time &s;ince I have beene di&s;con&s;olate for the Church, I have pre&s;ently reflected mine eyes upon my Rainbow, and have therewith beene comforted afre&s;h, and my heart remaines fully e&s;tabli&s;hed again&s;t all doubts and feares. I &s;ay, my Rainbow, as ha|ving the &s;ole propriety in it, &s;eeing it was &s;eene of none but my &s;elfe alone. And how miraculou&s;ly hath God wrought for us, by many deliverances &s;ince that time hitherto? Soone after a Parliament was miraculou&s;ly procured: and &s;oone after againe it was by Gods won|derfull Providence miraculou&s;ly broken up, in the very nick of an imminent danger, as all doe know; &s;o as the di&s;&s;olution of the Par|liament, in the prevention thereof, proved to be as the a&s;hes of the Phe|nix, whereof is begotten another Phenix; the di&s;&s;olution of that pro|ving the generation of this (hitherto in many things) happy Parlia|ment, which we have now &s;o long enjoyed, and which God hath &s;o miraculou&s;ly pre&s;erved from &s;o many de&s;perate Cut-throats, when they came armed, both with power, and bloody re&s;olution, to make a ma&s;&s;acre of that &s;acred Senate; and when the Northerne Army was de&s;igned for the like execution. And &s;hould we runne over, and well weigh, and number the &s;everall deliverances that God hath given, both in this Kingdome, and in that of <HI>Scotland,</HI> from &s;o many treache|ries, trea&s;ons, and rebellions, from the fir&s;t till this pre&s;ent, both by Sea and Land (taking in the late Spani&s;h Fleet, and Armado for not the lea&s;t, &s;o miraculou&s;ly defeated) we &s;hall finde and acknowledge them &s;o many miracles, or miraculous deliverances; and &s;o much the more, when we con&s;ider on the one &s;ide the overtopping power, and undermining plots of the mo&s;t cruell and trecherous &s;worne enemies, and home-bred vipers, and degenerate mon&s;ters, that ever hell hatcht,
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or <HI>Rome</HI> brought forth, machinating the utter ruine of both Parlia|ment and People, Religion and Rights, Lawes and Liberties, City and Countrey: and on the other &s;ide, the weakne&s;&s;e both of Parlia|ment and People, to defend them&s;elves, and the State from imminent ruine, when in our greate&s;t dangers there were &s;uch divi&s;ions in both Hou&s;es; &s;o as for a long time, e&s;pecially before the Prelates, (tho&s;e in|cendiaries, and make-bates,) were ca&s;t out of the Hou&s;e of Lords, mat|ters of maine con&s;equence, tending to reformation, and pre&s;ervation of the Kingdome, could not pa&s;&s;e currant, no place could be found for the puni&s;hing of Delinquents, and the like; their impunity proving a kinde of immunity to advance their Cre&s;t to &s;uch a heigth of in&s;o|lency, as it is now growne intolerable, if not incurable. Yet notwith|&s;tanding all this, &s;ee how miraculou&s;ly the Lord worketh for us: For hath hee not cau&s;ed all the machinations of that mi&s;creant and malignant party, to make again&s;t them&s;elves, and for us? What got the Prelates by their bold Remon&s;trance again&s;t all the Proceedings of this Parliament, as meere nullities? Were they not thereupon ca&s;t out, as nullities in Parliament, and by this occa&s;ion each Hou&s;e better united in it &s;elfe, and both Hou&s;es better accorded, and more firmely combined together? What have they gained by attempting of <HI>Hull,</HI> by &s;olliciting, (by flattery or force,) &s;imple and credulous poore &s;oules, by gathering Forces again&s;t the Parliament, and the loyall Subjects of the Kingdome, but thereby to di&s;cover to the world, what truth there is in all their Prote&s;tations, and faire fal&s;e pretences to the con|trary: &s;o that the trecherons intentions, and bloody projects, and bea&s;tly practi&s;es of that &s;elfe-damning Crew, might be found the more worthy every day to be hated and abhorred both of God and men? So as it is apparent, that our God hath given up our enemies to be &s;elf-blinded, their hearts being hardned to their confu&s;ion: That in all their di&s;a&s;ters, and our deliverances all along, we might &s;ing with <HI>Mo&s;es; Who among the Gods is like unto thee, O Lord! Who is like thee!</HI> <NOTE PLACE="marg">Exod. 15. 1<GAP DESC="illegible" REASON="faint" EXTENT="1 letter">.</NOTE> <HI>glorious in holine&s;&s;e, fearfull in prai&s;es, doing wonders.</HI></P>
<P>Thus hitherto we have &s;eene the many miraculous things, which are &s;o many miraculous deliverances of the Church, and &s;o many &s;teps and degrees unto a greater and a more miraculous deliverance, yet to come; all which have in part an&s;wered to the interpretation of the miracu|lous Rainbow above mentioned. I &s;ay, in part, becau&s;e the great mi|raculous deliverance is yet to come. And there is no &s;urer &s;igne of this great miraculous deliverance of Gods Church, then the fury and rage
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of Satan, and Antichri&s;t, with all their confederate faction, making open warre again&s;t the Kingdome and Go&s;pel of Chri&s;t.</P>
<P>And now is this warre begun profe&s;&s;edly in <HI>Ireland</HI> by the Rebels there. (who have their Authors, Factors, and Abetters both in <HI>Rome</HI> and <HI>England)</HI> for the rooting out of all Prote&s;tants, and the Prote&s;tant Religion; which warre they intended to perfect in <HI>England</HI> and <HI>Scot|land.</HI> So as this outragious warre in the <GAP DESC="illegible" REASON="blotted" EXTENT="1 letter">ebellion of <HI>Ireland,</HI> and in the rai&s;ing of Popi&s;h forces in <HI>England</HI> again&s;t the true Prote&s;tants, under the infamous name of <HI>Round heads,</HI> which warre is fomented by all Papi&s;ts and popi&s;hly affected within the Land, and without; among whom our Prelates with their Prie&s;ts are not the lea&s;t incendi|aries, and bellowes-blowers, &s;educing al&s;o their blind-folded Igno|rants, to make a party with them, to de&s;troy them&s;elves and families, together with their native countrey, and all the honour of it: This warre (I &s;ay) &s;o furiou&s;ly and univer&s;ally by them pro&s;ecuted, is a mo&s;t certain immediate fore-running &s;ign of the imminent ruine of the whole Kingdome of the Bea&s;t, which is &s;piritually called <HI>Egypt;</HI> even as the power of the Kingdome of <HI>Egypt, Pharoah</HI> and his Ho&s;t, pur&s;u|ing <HI>I&s;rael</HI> to the red Sea, with re&s;olution utterly to de&s;troy the Lords people, was that which led them to their owne di&s;mall de&s;truction in that Sea: For the enemy had &s;aid, <HI>I will pur&s;ue, I will overtake them, I</HI> <NOTE PLACE="marg">Exod. 15. 9.</NOTE> <HI>will divide the &s;poile, my lust &s;hall be &s;atisfied upon them, I will draw my Sword, my hand &s;hall destroy them.</HI> The very language of our Anti|chri&s;tian enemies at this time; the Cavaleers at <HI>Yorke</HI> divided among them&s;elves, the &s;treets, hou&s;es, and &s;poyles of <HI>London,</HI> they threaten the utter extirpation of all <HI>Round-heads</HI> (as they call them) to wit, all Pro|te&s;tants, even all &s;uch, as cannot away with Popery; Therfore certain|ly the ruine of this cur&s;ed faction is neere at hand, which &s;hall be with a fearefull de&s;truction, fora&s;much as they make open warre again&s;t the Lord and his anointed people: So as that which is prophecied of tho&s;e Kings &amp; Rulers, in the &s;econd P&s;alm, who with their heatheni&s;h rage, and tumultuous troops warre again&s;t the Go&s;pel, the bands and cords whereof they indeavour to bur&s;t in &s;under, &amp; to ca&s;t away from them, ha&s;tneth now to be verified of them; the <HI>Lord that &s;itteth in Heaven, laughes</HI> at their proud and vaine attempts, and with his <HI>iron Rod</HI> &s;hall <HI>he breake them in pieces like a Potters Ve&s;&s;ell.</HI> And even as <HI>Pharaoh</HI> with his Egyptians would not be warned, nor humbled with tho&s;e 10. terrible plagues, which the Lord &s;ent upon <HI>Egypt</HI> one after another, but their hatred again&s;t <HI>I&s;rael</HI> &s;till continued, till at la&s;t the Lord utterly
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rooted them out; &s;o &s;eeing none of all the&s;e defeats, which the Lord hath &s;ent upon the de&s;perate de&s;ignes of our new Egyptians one after another, di&s;appointing them, and delivering us, will reclaime them, or appea&s;e their fury, but after all, they doe &s;till &s;eek to extirpate the peo|ple of God, and all true Religion: The like de&s;truction mu&s;t needs overtake them, that overtooke the old Egyptians. As the Prophet &s;aith, <HI>O Lord, when thy hand is lifted up, they will not &s;ee, but they &s;hall</HI> <NOTE PLACE="marg">I&s;a. 26. 11.</NOTE> <HI>&s;ee and be confounded for their envy towards thy people; yea, the fire of thine enemies &s;hall devoure them.</HI> And this is the time, foretold of old, <NOTE PLACE="marg">Revel. 11. bee my book, en|tit<GAP DESC="illegible" REASON="faint" EXTENT="1 letter">led, The &s;oun|ding of the &s;ixt Trum|pet. Rev. 16. 16.</NOTE> the time of the &s;ixth Trumpet, &s;ounding forth woe again&s;t the Bea&s;t, for &s;laying the two Witne&s;&s;es, after who&s;e reviving againe, there fol|lows a great earthquake, after which followeth the de&s;truction of the Bea&s;ts Kingdome under the &s;ounding of the &s;eventh Trumpet, when <HI>the Kingdomes of this world are become the Kingdomes of our Lord, and of his Chri&s;t, and he &s;hall reigne for ever and ever.</HI> And this is the time wherein the <HI>battell of God Almighty is</HI> fought <HI>in Harmageddon,</HI> under the pouring out of the Plagues of the &s;ixth Viall upon the Bea&s;t. Now is <HI>Michael and his Angels</HI> fighting again&s;t <HI>the Dragon and his Angels.</HI> <NOTE PLACE="marg">Revel. 2 7, 8. Rev. 17. 14. Rev. 20. 9.</NOTE> Now is the <HI>Lambe</HI> and his party (the <HI>called, and cho&s;en, and faith|full)</HI> fighting with the Bea&s;t and his party. Now is the <HI>Holy City</HI> be|girt with the Forces of <HI>Gog and Magog,</HI> open, and &s;ecret enemie, whom fire from heaven con&s;umeth, even the zeale of God, and of his people. And the Deliverance of the Church &s;hall be the more miraculous, be|cau&s;e it is wrought by the mighty hand of God, through many troubles and d<GAP DESC="illegible" REASON="missing" EXTENT="1 letter">fficulties, which Gods people mu&s;t pa&s;&s;e through, as through a &s;ea, before they arrive on their wi&s;hed &s;hore. And this I apprehend to be &s;ignified by the manner of the going away of the forementioned miraculous Rainbow, which manner was no le&s;&s;e miraculous, then the Rainbow it &s;elfe. For it went away, and &s;o vani&s;hed at length, not as other Rainbowes, by peece-meale, as the cloud wherein it &s;ub&s;i&s;teth, doth wa&s;te away; but it pa&s;&s;ed away whole and entire, all along upon the &s;ea as farre as I could &s;ee, and towards <HI>England</HI> it went: as if Gods Church in <HI>England</HI> e&s;pecially &s;hould have a miraculous deliverance through a &s;ea of troubles. And the expectation hereof yeelds me no &s;mall &s;upportation in the mid&s;t of the&s;e tumultuous times, and dubious events, a&s;&s;uring my &s;elfe, that he which gave the Rainbow &s;uch a &s;ub|&s;i&s;tence without any cloud, will al&s;o performe and accompli&s;h the thing, whereof it was &s;ent to be a &s;igne, even the glorious deliverance of his Church, how unlikely or defective &s;oever the meanes be.</P>
<P><PB N="29" REF="18">
Yea &s;hall I adde one circum&s;tance more? When the &s;ame day at night I went to write this downe in mine Almanack for remembrance, I found that this day was the very day of the month wherein I was married, which I had not ob&s;erved before to be that day. Hereupon I began to apprehend, that &s;urely this was a &s;igne, as of the Churches deliverance, &s;o of mine al&s;o therein. For mine own particular delive|rance <NOTE PLACE="marg">As 2 Sam. 11. 11.</NOTE> I made no account of, unle&s;&s;e I might enjoy it as a part of the Generall Deliverance of Gods people, as I profe&s;&s;ed to many at my returne home, when I began to enjoy my deliverance as a part of the publike, which I made as &s;ure a rekoning of, as if then already fully accompli&s;hed.</P>
<P>But at length, to winde up &s;o much of the thread of my life, which was &s;pun out in that my clo&s;&s;e impri&s;onment and bani&s;hment, let me acquaint the Reader with tho&s;e &s;peciall cordialls, which were to me more &s;weet then my daily food. I had ever been from my youth up much acquainted with <HI>Davids</HI> P&s;almes, in my private devotions, as wherein I ever found greate&s;t &s;weetne&s;&s;e and &s;olace to my poore &s;oule; which as they afforded more matter of comfort to me, as my life had been all along much exerci&s;ed with affliction: &s;o mo&s;t of all in my pri&s;on and exile. And although the P&s;almes have all of them their &s;e|verall excellencies, yet among the re&s;t I had, from my very youth made choice of one P&s;alme e&s;pecially, as which I was extraordinarily affect|ed with, in that I could both mo&s;t clearely read the generall e&s;tate of my life pa&s;t, and pre&s;ent; as al&s;o both feelingly pray for, and confidently wait for tho&s;e promi&s;es and comforts which were therein pre&s;ented to the eye of my faith, and which afterwards I began in my latter &s;ufferings, in a great mea&s;ure, to enjoy, which after my returne from exile &s;eemed to have a more full accompli&s;hment. As for the purpo&s;e (to omitt many other pa&s;&s;ages of the P&s;almes, which I leave to the readers judgement, and con&s;ideration, how farre forth they are remark|ably applyable to the &s;everall conditions of my life, if well weighed) not only in my la&s;t and greate&s;t &s;ufferings, I found an&s;wers of God to all tho&s;e prayers in that P&s;alme, which I had often prayed, in &s;uppor|ting me, and being my &s;trong refuge (v. 7.) even then, when I was (as on the pillary) a wonder unto many; when al&s;o (v. 8.) my mouth <NOTE PLACE="marg">E&s;a. 8. 18.</NOTE> was filled with his prai&s;e, and honour all the day; when in the time of old age (v. 9.) I was ca&s;t off, and even out of the world in a manner, &s;o as the enemies &s;aid, God hath for&s;aken him; per&s;ecute him, and take him, for there is none to deliver him (v. 11.) yet the Lord did not ca&s;t
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me off; he for&s;ooke me not. And (v. 30.) how was that fulfilled at my returne, <HI>Thou which ha&s;t &s;hewed me great and &s;ore troubles, thou&s;halt quicken me again, and &s;halt bring me up againe from the depths of the earth?</HI> And (v. 21.) <GAP DESC="illegible" REASON="faint" EXTENT="1 letter">ow began God now to <HI>increa&s;e my greatne&s;&s;e, and comfort me on every &s;ide?</HI> And after this (of which more anon) I found that al&s;o verified (v. 18.) <HI>Now al&s;o when I am old and gray-head|ed, O God, for&s;ake me not, untill I have &s;hewed thy &s;trength unto this ge|neration, and thypower to every one that is to come;</HI> which here is done in part, in this &s;upport of Gods &s;trength and power, in carrying me, a weake man, through &s;o many and great troubles to his eternall prai&s;e and glory.</P>
<P>And be&s;ides all this, what mighty confu&s;ions have I &s;ince &s;een upon tho&s;e enemies, again&s;t whom the P&s;almi&s;t prayeth, v. 13.? Not to mention more (all being &s;o notoriou&s;ly knowne) let me tell you one pa&s;&s;age. I being with &s;ome friends walking in the Tower, where we were invited to &s;ee the Artillery, one came and told me, that the Arch-Bi&s;hop of Canterbury (my grand adver&s;ary) as he was going along to the Chappell to doe his devotions, was met by one, who told him that I was hard by in the Tower: whereupon the Prelate pre&s;ently returned, ha&s;ting to his lodging, lea&s;t (it &s;eemes) I &s;hould meet with him; who now not brooking to &s;ee my face, and eares defaced: how &s;hall he look Ie&s;us Chri&s;t in the face, whom he hath pierced; when he &s;hall come to Iudgement, in flaming fire, rendring veugeance to all mi&s;creants?</P>
<P>This in briefe of this P&s;alme, wherein it hath plea&s;ed God to give me &s;uch an intere&s;t through Chri&s;t, in whom all tho&s;e &s;weet promi&s;es have &s;o full an accompli&s;hment.</P>
<P>In a word, infinite were the &s;upports and comforts which I received by the P&s;almes. As P&s;al. 40. wherein it is &s;poken of Chri&s;t, and of <HI>Da|vid</HI> (v. 10) <HI>I have not hid thy righteou&s;ne&s;&s;e within my heart, I have de|clared thy faithfullne&s;&s;e, and thy &s;alvation; I have not concealed thy lo|ving kindne&s;&s;e, and thy truth from the great congregation:</HI> this, I could in the integrity of my con&s;cience (being not privy of baulking any truth in my mini&s;try, which was forbidden by the Prelates) &s;o farre apply to my &s;elfe, as that I could with the greater confidence take up the words immediately following (v. 11.) <HI>Withhold not thou thy tender mercies from me, O Lord: let thy loving kindne&s;&s;e, and thy truth conti|nually pre&s;erve me. &amp;c.</HI> As I remember, how a little before my la&s;t troubles, Mr. <HI>Walker,</HI> my reverend and learned brother, being con|vented,
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and admoni&s;hed by Dr. <HI>Lambe</HI> to preach no more of the <HI>Sab|bath,</HI> and he being thereupon <GAP DESC="foreign">, halfe per&s;waded to it: I told him, <HI>Brother Walker, if you yeild herein, be a&s;&s;ured they will &s;ome time or other get you in their &s;nare; and when they have you in pri&s;on, what comfort will you find, when your con&s;cience &s;hall check you, that for feare of man, you forbeare freely and fully to declare the truth of God; and mo&s;t of all then, when it was mo&s;t oppo&s;ed and oppre&s;&s;ed?</HI> And not long after my going into bani&s;hment, they catched him indeed, and put him in pri|&s;on; where I doubt not but he found comfort from God, according to my words, which he had upon that occa&s;ion followed.</P>
<P>Againe, I was mightily &s;upported by tho&s;e words, P&s;al. 66. 10. 111. 12. <HI>For thou O God, hast proved us, thou ha&s;t tryed us, as &s;ilver is tried: Thou broughte&s;t us into the net, Thou laid&s;t affliction upon our</HI> <NOTE PLACE="marg">Greck. <GAP DESC="foreign"> &amp;c. Thou ha&s;t &s;et riders upon our heads.</NOTE> <HI>loines: Thou hast cau&s;ed men to ride over our heads; we went through fire and through water: but Thou broughte&s;t us out, into a wealthy place.</HI> Which wotds afforded me two great props to &s;upport me: The one, that God was the &s;ole author of all tho&s;e my troubles, as wherein no mi&s;cariage of mine had given any the lea&s;t ju&s;t offence to tho&s;e men, who forcibly drove me (yet witting, and willing) into their net, where they rode upon my head. The other was, that as I &s;aw the Lords hand leading me <HI>through the fire,</HI> as on the pillary, where the &s;un did extream|ly beat upon my head, and through the <HI>water,</HI> pa&s;&s;ing through the &s;eas (as afore&s;aid) &s;o I did verily a&s;&s;ure my &s;elfe, that the &s;ame hand would deliver, and bring me into a <HI>wealthy place.</HI> According al&s;o to that promi&s;e, I&s;a. 43.<GAP DESC="illegible" REASON="blotted" EXTENT="1 letter">. Yea when in my clo&s;e pri&s;on and exile, I was as <HI>an owle in the de&s;art,</HI> or as <HI>a&s;parrow that &s;its alone upon the hou&s;e top,</HI> yea as one <HI>free among the dead.</HI> (P&s;al. 88. 5.) <HI>like the &s;laine that lye in the grave:</HI> yet this was my comfort, that I could &s;ay, <HI>Thou O Lord hast layd me in the lowe&s;t pit, in darkne&s;&s;e in the deeps;</HI> (v. 6.) <HI>lover and friend ha&s;t thou put from me, and mine acquaintance into darkne&s;&s;e.</HI> All contented me well, becau&s;e the Lord had done all the&s;e things to me; <NOTE PLACE="marg"><GAP DESC="foreign"> &amp;c. Phil. 1. 29.</NOTE> and that, not in his wrath, and di&s;plea&s;ure again&s;t me, as <HI>D<GAP DESC="illegible" REASON="missing" EXTENT="1 letter">vid</HI> there complaineth; but in his loving kindne&s;&s;e and favour, in his free grace calling, and enabling me to &s;uffer &s;oe great things, for his name &s;ake.</P>
<P>In a word, I did now and then in my pri&s;on, exerci&s;e my &s;elfe with preaching to my &s;elfe upon &s;ome text of Scripture, both for my pre&s;ent &s;trengthening, and comfort; and al&s;o to keep me from ru&s;t, in ca&s;e it might plea&s;e God to call me forth to preach againe in the great con|gregation.</P>
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Hereunto (if it be not tedious to the Reader) I might adde a briefe narration of many other helps and &s;upports, which I found throughout all my &s;ufferings, as al&s;o throughout the whole cour&s;e of my life: As fir&s;t Prayer; This never failed me at any time, and in greate&s;t di&s;tre&s;&s;e it had mo&s;t &s;peedy and &s;peeding an&s;wers. What ble&s;&s;ings hath it obtai|ned for me? What victories over &s;trong and ma&s;terfull corruptions, lu&s;ts, temptations, &s;nares? How often thereby Satan foiled, and &s;inne prevented? How my &s;pirits &s;upported in all my &s;ufferings? I could here tell of many wonderfull returnes of prayer in the many pa&s;&s;ages of my life; and particularly concerning Gods Providence in di&s;po&s;ing of me in marriage, wherein his goodne&s;&s;e marvelou&s;ly appeared, partly by preventing &s;ome, and chiefely by providing &s;ucce&s;&s;ively two fit matches for me, who proved notable helps to me, both in my mini&s;try, and in my &s;ufferings, being both of them lovers, and valiant for the truth. And the &s;econd, yet &s;urviving, can relate how miraculou&s;ly Prayer brought us fir&s;t together. O the excellent u&s;e of Prayer to all the purpo&s;es of this life, whether &s;pirituall or temporall! It is the mo&s;t effectuall &s;ollicitor of all our cau&s;es, having &s;uch an Advocate at Gods right hand.</P>
<P>My &s;econd help in my &s;ufferings was the te&s;timony of my con&s;ci|ence; which &s;tood in the&s;e particulars. Fir&s;t, A &s;ure beliefe that all my &s;ins were forgiven, and wa&s;hed away in the blood of Ie&s;us Chri&s;t. Secondly, An infallible knowledge, that the~ cau&s;e for which I thus &s;uffered, was a mo&s;t noble, holy, righteous, and innocent cau&s;e, as being the cau&s;e of Chri&s;t, of his Go&s;pel, of his Church, yea and of the whole Land, my native Countrey; which cau&s;e I was (not only as a Chri|&s;tian, but much more, as a profe&s;&s;ed witne&s;&s;e of Chri&s;t) bound to maintaine, even to the lo&s;&s;e of all things in the world. Thirdly, the te&s;timony of my con&s;cience &s;ealed by my record from on high, that my continuall oppo&s;ition in the cour&s;e of my mini&s;try, both by prea|ching and writing again&s;t the adver&s;aries of the truth, was out of no other re&s;pect (as either of an humour of contradiction, or ambition, or vaine glory, or affectation of &s;ingularity, or of malice to any mans per&s;on, or out of any di&s;contentedne&s;&s;e with my pre&s;ent condition, as &s;ome have faflly and cau&s;le&s;ly &s;laundered me, the Lord having beene &s;o farre good unto me, as to &s;et me farre above all &s;uch ba&s;e lu&s;ts (though I wanted not my corruptions) not to prevaile over me) but meerely out of the con&s;cience of my duty, in zeale to Gods glory, and love to his truth, and &s;ervice to Chri&s;t, and to his Church. There
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are &s;undry Mini&s;ters, yet living in <HI>London,</HI> who can witne&s;&s;e, that I was not ambitious to &s;hew my &s;elf alone in the cau&s;e, when my frequent &s;ol|licitations of them could not prevaile to have more fellowes to &s;hare with me. And fourthly, (not to recount more particulars) in that God hath given me the&s;e three comforts more. Fir&s;t, that before my la&s;t Cen&s;ure (as afore&s;aid) I owed not a penny to any man, it having ever beene hatefull unto me to owe any thing to any man but love; which love I am daily paying, while daily praying for all. Secondly, that in this re&s;pect I can &s;ay with the Apo&s;tle, <HI>I am free from the blood of all men, having kept nothing back that I knew nece&s;&s;ary and profitable,</HI> <NOTE PLACE="marg">Acts 20. 20 26, 27.</NOTE> <HI>but delivered</HI> (though in great weakne&s;&s;e) <HI>the whole Coun&s;ell of God,</HI> even again&s;t all oppo&s;ition of men in their expre&s;&s;e edicts, armed with terrours and threatnings to the contrary. Thirdly, although from my youth up I have not beene free from many humanefrailties and follies, lu&s;ts and vanities, baites and temptations without, and corruptions within, ready to betray me; yet herein my con&s;cience doth greatly comfort me, in this mercy of God I exceedingly glory, that his Grace &s;till prevented me, and pre&s;erved me in my integrity; that he might <NOTE PLACE="marg">P&s;al. 41. 12.</NOTE> &s;et me before his face for ever, even in the rank of tho&s;e, of whom it is &s;aid, <HI>The&s;e are they that were not defiled with women.</HI> Thus have I <NOTE PLACE="marg">Rev. 14. 4.</NOTE> &s;hewed &s;ome &s;peciall grounds of &s;uch comforts, as I enjoyed in my pri&s;on and exile: The&s;e were my &s;weet A&s;&s;ociates, and Vade-mecums in that my &s;olitary &s;eclu&s;e: the&s;e the cordials and pre&s;ervatives (from and under my God) of my life and health.</P>
<P>Nay, &s;hall I adde yet one more. For this our comfort comes in the reare, though late fir&s;t; yet at la&s;t, That all this my &s;uffering was mainly from the malice and in&s;tigation of the Prelates (to &s;ay nothing of Papall leagues) who oppugned me with two powerfull Armies, the High-Commi&s;&s;ion, and the Starre-Chamber, and all for this cau&s;e (cau&s;e enough) that I te&s;tified the truth again&s;t their Prelaticall op|po&s;itions, and tyrannicall u&s;urpations: &s;o as their &s;hutting me out from among them, their depriving and degrading me of my Mini&s;try, I now accounted my greate&s;t honour and priviledge, as being now freed from &s;uch an Antichri&s;tian yoak. As I told the Warden of the Fleet, as he carried me from my Degradation in <HI>Pauls,</HI> that now I thanked God I had ca&s;t off the Bi&s;hops Livery, and found my &s;houl|ders much the lighter by it.</P>
<P>Now to &s;umme up all my &s;ufferings, that only God may have the glory; herein let me deprecate the Cen&s;ure of arrogance, if I make the
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great Apo&s;tle, next after my Lord J<GAP DESC="illegible" REASON="faint" EXTENT="1 letter">&s;us Chri&s;t, my patterne to follow, though at a va&s;t di&s;tance The Apo&s;tle having recited his many &amp; great fufferings, as &s;o many priviledges, wherein he had out-&s;tripped the fal&s;e Apo&s;tles, 2 <HI>Cor.</HI> 11. &s;aying (v. 23.) <HI>Are they the Ministers of Chri&s;t? I &s;peak as a foole, I am more: in labours more abundant, in &s;tripes above mea&s;ure, in pri&s;ons more frequent, in death oft, &amp;c.</HI> he con|cludes, ver. 30. <HI>If I mu&s;t needs glory&punc; I will glory of the things which concerne mine infirmities.</HI> And chap. 12. 9. <HI>Mo&s;t gladly will I rather glory in mine infirmities, that the power of Chri&s;t may rest upon me; Therefore I take plea&s;ure in infirmities, in reproaches, in nece&s;&s;ities, in per|&s;ecutions, in di&s;tre&s;&s;es for Chri&s;ts &s;ake; for when I am weak, then am I &s;trong:</HI> &s;o the Apo&s;tle. And who &s;hall deny me (though but a dwarfe to &s;uch an Apo&s;tle) the like liberty to glory the rather in my <HI>infirmities, that the power of Chri&s;t may re&s;t upon me,</HI> and be the more glorified in me? &s;eeing Chri&s;ts power is mo&s;t &s;eene in greate&s;t weakne&s;&s;e, yea his &s;trength thereby made perfect. And <HI>Mat.</HI> 21. 16. <HI>Out of the mouthes</HI> <NOTE PLACE="marg">2 Cor. 12. 9 Mat. 21. 16</NOTE> <HI>of Babes and Sucklings thou ha&s;t perfected prai&s;e.</HI></P>
<P>But what are my &s;ufferings to tho&s;e of the Apo&s;tle? &s;urely what|ever proportion they may hold, or if any at all, let not envy grudge us the ballance of the Sanctuary to weigh them in; if by this <GAP DESC="illegible" REASON="faint" EXTENT="1+ letters">eans Chri&s;ts power &s;hall appeare the greater, in equally &s;upporting one &s;o unequall to his Apo&s;tle in gifts, and graces; and yet in &s;uf|ferings not altogether &s;o unequall. Shall we be bold to take a pa|ralel view of them? Pardon me good Reader.</P>
<P>Fir&s;t, the &s;ole cau&s;e of all <HI>Pauls</HI> &s;ufferings, was his witne&s;&s;-bearing <NOTE PLACE="marg">A paralell betweene <HI>Pauls</HI> &s;uffe|rings, and the Au|thors.</NOTE> to the truth of the Go&s;pel, and for none other cau&s;e were all my &s;uf|ferings. Secondly, <HI>Paul</HI> was in pri&s;ons more frequent: &s;o have I been; yea confined to perpetuall clo&s;e impri&s;onment. Thirdly <HI>Paul</HI> &s;uffered &s;tripes above mea&s;ure: and I have &s;uffered lo&s;&s;e of very much blood on the pillary, equivalent to many &s;tripes. Fourthly, <HI>Paul</HI> fuffered thrice &s;hipwrack: and I &s;uffered the lo&s;&s;e of all at once, with imminent danger of &s;hipwrack two &s;everall times. Fifthly, <HI>Paul</HI> was in perills by &s;ea: &s;o was I in my tedious voyage by &s;ea on a &s;tormy winter &s;ea&s;on, and through perillous &s;eas between <HI>Lanca&s;hire</HI> and <HI>Guern&s;ey,</HI> for &s;ix weeks &s;pace, &s;undry times very neere peri&s;hing in the <HI>Iri&s;h</HI> &s;eas. Sixthly, <HI>Paul</HI> was in perills among fal&s;e brethren: &s;o was I, never free from perills of fal&s;e brethren, or fal&s;e Chri&s;tians, who u&s;ed to watch me in my Church to catch &s;omething from my mouth, to carry to the Prelates, and &s;o bring me into the lions pawes. Seventh|ly,
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<HI>Paul</HI> was in perills of his own countrymen, the Jewes, who &s;undry times way-layd him, to kill him: &s;o have I been &s;undry times in pe|rills of the Je&s;uites, my countrymen, who in the City apparantly two &s;everall times, layd their ambu&s;h to take away my life; al&s;o of fal&s;e mini&s;ters, pretended friends, who privately brought me into the Pre|lates mercy, for preaching again&s;t bowing at the name Je&s;us, for which I was &s;u&s;pended, as afore. Eighthly, <HI>Paul</HI> &s;uffered hunger and thir&s;t, cold and nakedne&s;&s;e: &s;o had I nothing left me of mine own, to pre&s;erve me from hunger and thir&s;t, from cold and nakednes;&s;e; lying under the formidable fine of 5000 l' payable to the King, had it either been extended, or I able to have paid the tenth part of it. And with meer cold had I peri&s;hed in <HI>Lanca&s;hire</HI> Goale, had not God in his provi|dence tran&s;lated me thence: and with hunger had I peri&s;hed in <HI>Guern|&s;ey</HI> Ca&s;tle, had I not been fed by the Governors allowance, from Mr. Lievtenants table; for the which no recompence could be obtained from tho&s;e, by who&s;e authority I was there committed clo&s;e pri&s;oner, where I could not help my &s;elfe. Ninthly, Againe, <HI>Paul</HI> was re&s;cued from the hands of the cruell Jewes, High Prie&s;ts, and Phari&s;es, by his appealing to <HI>Cae&s;ar,</HI> a heathen Emperour, who protected him from their violence: but I, by appealing from the cruell Prelates, was not re&s;|cued from their bloody hands. Tenthly, <HI>Paul,</HI> when the <HI>Jewes</HI> laid wait for him, without the gates of <HI>Dama&s;cus,</HI> to kill him, was in a basket let downe over the wall, and &s;o e&s;aped: but I being in mine own hou&s;e be&s;et with bills, and &s;words, and threatened with a Pre|lates mace, had my hou&s;e violently broken up, and my per&s;on carryed away to pri&s;on, although I might have the &s;ame time e&s;caped their hands. Eleventhly, <HI>Paul</HI> was per&s;ecuted by the Jewes, who were profe&s;&s;ed enemies of Chri&s;t: but I by tho&s;e, who profe&s;&s;e to be Chri|&s;tians, yea Prote&s;tants, and to be for Chri&s;t, yea to be for the very Church of Chri&s;t. Now a profe&s;&s;ed enemy is le&s;&s;e dangerous, then a <NOTE PLACE="marg">P&s;al. 55. 12. 13. 14.</NOTE> profe&s;&s;ed, but fal&s;e, friend. Twelfthly, <HI>Paul</HI> (if the &s;tory be true) &s;uf|fered death, by being beheaded, with the &s;word, under <HI>Nero</HI> at <HI>Rome:</HI> And I &s;uffered that on the pilary in <HI>England,</HI> my native Country, which was more painefull, and no le&s;&s;e, if not more di&s;gracefull, then &s;uch a death. For my head hung two full hours on the pilary, as if it had been &s;eparate from my body; and there were my two eares di&s;grace|fully and butcherly cut off with the hangmans knife, whereby my blood was abundantly &s;hed, even to the expiring of the &s;oule; all which was, both for the pre&s;ent, and afterwards in the time of healing, much
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more painfull, then the chopping off of the head with one &s;troke. Thirtenthly As God indued <HI>Paul</HI> with an excellent &s;pirit to under|goe and overcome all his affliction with a &s;ingular alacrity and con|&s;tancy, &s;o as he &s;ung P&s;almes in the pri&s;on, and accounted his life, and all outward things, but as dung, in compari&s;on of Chri&s;t: &s;o the &s;ame God poured into my &s;oule abundantly the like &s;pirit, of fortitude and magnanimity, not only cheerfully and con&s;tantly, but even trium|phantly, to be more then conqueror in all my &s;ufferings; as al&s;o the Apo&s;tle &s;aid of him&s;elfe, 2. Cor. 2. 14. and Rom. 4. 37.</P>
<P>Be&s;ides all this, Fir&s;t, <HI>Paul</HI> was never haunted, hunted, and vexed by Pur&s;uivants, as I have been. Secondly, <HI>Paul</HI> was never bound in bonds of two or three hundred pounds to an&s;wer the High Prie&s;ts in their &s;ynedrion, as I have been in the high Commi&s;&s;ion Court. Thirdly, <HI>Paul,</HI> when he was a pri&s;oner, and that under <HI>Nero;</HI> yet had liberty <NOTE PLACE="marg">Acts 24. 23 &amp; 28. 30. 31</NOTE> to vi&s;it his friends and acquaintance; and they to come and vi&s;it him: but I was &s;hut up in a clo&s;e pri&s;on, where neither my &s;elfe could vi&s;it others, nor they me. Fourthly, <HI>Paul</HI> had his fellow pri&s;oners with him to be mutuall comforters: but I was &s;hut up all alone, without a fellow, or compainon. Fifthly, <HI>Paul</HI> was never fined in more then he was worth: but I was. Sixthly, <HI>Paul</HI> was never deemed to more puni&s;hments then one, at once: but I to many, and tho&s;e mo&s;t grive|ous puni&s;hments; and that contrary to the law of the <HI>Medes</HI> and <HI>Per&s;ians.</HI> Ezra. 7. 26. Seventhly, <HI>Paul</HI> was not condemned before the hearing of his cau&s;e, nor him&s;elfe condemned, for refu&s;ing to a&s;|&s;ent to the condemning of his own cau&s;e before hearing: but both I and my cau&s;e were thus condemned, contrary to the law of the land, and of all nations. Eightly, It was lawfullfor <HI>Paul</HI> to have carried about with him a &s;i&s;ter a wife, if he had had one: but I having an hone&s;t, godly, mo&s;t loving, and tender hearted woman to my wife, was not &s;uffered to have her with me according to Gods Ordinance, for our mutuall comfort and &s;upport, in our great affliction; but wee were violently &s;eparated one from the other, without any the lea&s;t co|lour of cau&s;e. Ninthly, <HI>Paul</HI> was &s;uffered to write to his friends, and to tho&s;e his children, whom he had begotten by the Go&s;pel, and to tho&s;e Churches, which he had planted: but I was not permitted the u&s;e of pen, inke, and paper, &s;o much as to write to my friends, or to my di&s;|con&s;olate wife, or my poore orphan-children, whom God had given to me in lawfull wedlock. Tenthly, <HI>Paul</HI> never was bani&s;hed from his native country: but I was, and that extrajudicially, &s;ent into perpetu|all
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bani&s;hment. Eleventhly, <HI>Paul,</HI> though a pri&s;oner, yet was not forbid to preach; but exerci&s;ed his mini&s;try in the pri&s;on, to all that came unto him but my mouth was by Decree for ever &s;topped; which one affliction was to me, as in it &s;elfe, &s;o heavy, as is &s;ufficient to coun|ter-ballance all <HI>Pauls</HI> afflictions Twelfthly, Nor did <HI>Paul</HI> live to know experimentally tho&s;e &s;ufferings, which Antichri&s;t (foretold of by him) &s;hould both craftily invent, and cruelly inflict upon Gods <NOTE PLACE="marg">2 The&s;&s; 2<GAP DESC="illegible" REASON="faint" EXTENT="1 letter"></NOTE> &s;ervants, in the&s;e la&s;t times; which my &s;elfe have now lived both to &s;ee, and &s;uffer. Antichri&s;t was then but a cockatrice in the egge: but now he is broke out, and growne to be a great red dragon. Thirteenthly, <HI>Paul</HI> once by pleading the priviledge of a Roman; e&s;caped the whip: but I, though once by pleading the benefit of a &s;ubject, I obtained (which yet co&s;t me ten pounds) a Prohibition, whereby. I was deli|vered from a double la&s;h of the High Commi&s;&s;ion: yet the next day after as afore&s;aid) I fell under the Prelates la&s;h; who &s;u&s;pended me from my mini&s;try, for preaching the truth; &s;or the which truths &s;ake I have al&s;o &s;uffered all the&s;e things. Finally, Fourteenthly, <HI>Pauls</HI> Judges would not condemne him, for the bare accu&s;ation of his adver|&s;aries, &s;aying, <HI>It was not the manner of the Romans to condemne any man, before that he which is accu&s;ed, have the accu&s;ers face to face, and have li|cence to an&s;wer for him&s;elfe concerning the crime layed again&s;t him:</HI> but <NOTE PLACE="marg">Act. 25: 16.</NOTE> I; though I had permi&s;&s;ion by the Court to make my defence in writ|ing, and at the cen&s;ure to &s;peake for my &s;elfe, yet all was as nothing, but without either accu&s;ers, or witne&s;&s;es (&s;aving only a counterfet in|formation in Court, charging many things, but proving nothing, but &s;erving only for a &s;nare, which innocency it &s;elfe could not e&s;cape) I underwent the mo&s;t terrible Cen&s;ure that ever was inflicted in the world. But though I underwent it, yet through the power of Chri&s;t I overcame it. To him alone be all the glory and prai&s;e of a &s;uffering, which only his power and grace made &s;o great, &s;o glorious.</P>
<P>After a<GAP DESC="illegible" REASON="missing" EXTENT="1 letter">l this, let me a little recreate my Reader, with a &s;male &s;tory of a pa&s;&s;age falling out, while I was in <HI>Guern&s;ey</HI> Ca&s;tle. On a time, a pigeon &s;itting neere my chamber window (where my daily feeding of them made them &s;o familiar, as they would follow me up and downe the Ca&s;tle) a wild hauke &s;uddenly plunged upon her, and beats her downe to the ground, above four &s;tories, and falls a preying on her. I beheld it a while from my window, and pre&s;ently thereupon ran downe to re&s;cue the dove, though I was to run above a flight &s;hot off&punc; I ran, and &s;ound the hauke &s;till upon the pigeon, and when I was ready
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to cea&s;e on the hauke, &s;he flew off, and then the poore Pigeon took her faint flight al&s;o, the bold hauke pur&s;uing her about the Ca&s;tle; but the dove e&s;caped, for any thing I could heare. This u&s;e I made of it; I compared the Dove to the Church, and the Hauke to the enemies of it, hoping that, though for a time the Hauke get the Dove under to p<GAP DESC="illegible" REASON="missing" EXTENT="1 letter">ey upon her; yet deliverance &s;hall come in the nick: in the Mount will the Lord be &s;eene, and the Church &s;hall e&s;cape, but hardly; but whether by flight (as <HI>Revel.</HI> 12.) or otherwi&s;e, that re&s;ts only in our Great Deliverers hand. This by the way.</P>
<P>But now it is high time to clo&s;e it up. For <HI>November</HI> 15. 1640. being the Lords day, a Bark comes to <HI>Guern&s;ey</HI> from <HI>England</HI> with friends, and an Order from the Honourable Hou&s;e of Commons for my enlargement, and returne for <HI>England.</HI> Ble&s;&s;ed tidings indeed, and the more, becau&s;e it came from a Parliament; and yet more, in that it was the Parliaments hand&s;aile, pre&s;enting much good, but promi&s;ing much more. The Newes filled the Ca&s;tle with joy, and &s;o the Iland. The fir&s;t ob&s;ervation I made of it, was of the day, on which this ty|dings came. Fir&s;t, I noted it was the Lords day, which day I had mightily propugned and defended, both by preaching and writing again&s;t the malignant and profane adver&s;aries of the &s;anctification thereof, and of its morality. And when the book for di&s;pen&s;ation, and allowance of &s;ports on that day, came with an injunction to be pub|likely read in my Church upon a Lords day; that very day, in &s;tead of reading of it (which I utterly abhorred to doe, as an abominable thing) I turned my afternoon preaching into an opening of the fourth Commandement, therein proving the Lords day, to wit the fir&s;t day of the week, to &s;ucceed the &s;eventh, or la&s;t day of the week, both for Sabbath, and Sanctification under the Go&s;pel. Now the newes and Order for my enlargement comming to me on the Lords day, I took it as a gracious reward of mercy from God, who&s;e day I had formerly &s;tood for again&s;t all the adver&s;aries thereof. Againe, &s;econdly this day was the fifteenth day of the month, to wit <HI>November,</HI> which was the fir&s;t day of the la&s;t month that made up the three yeares and a halfe from the day of my Cen&s;ure; and &s;o was fulfilled that which I &s;pake before at <HI>Coventry,</HI> to the &s;aid Reverend Mini&s;ters, Mr <HI>Nalton,</HI> and Mr <HI>Hughs,</HI> that three yeares and a halfe hence we &s;hould meet againe and be merry. For <HI>June</HI> 14. 1637. was my Cen&s;ure, and <HI>November</HI> 15. 1640. was the fir&s;t day of the la&s;t month that made up three yeares and a halfe: &s;o as the Parliaments Order calling me forth of
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pri&s;on to be pre&s;ented before them, &s;eemed to me to be that great voice from heaven, &s;aying to the two Witne&s;&s;es, after their lying dead three dayes and a halfe (three yeares and a halfe) unburied, Come up hi|ther. Moreover I ob&s;erved, that I had come to <HI>Guern&s;ey</HI> on the fifteenth day of the month and three yeares after, on the fifteenth day of the month, taking that month current from the fifteenth day, came my relea&s;e. And the like did my brother <HI>Prin</HI> of his comming to <HI>Jar&s;ey,</HI> which was on the &s;eventeenth day of the month, and his relea&s;e came to him on the &s;eventeenth day of the month: &s;o punctuall is God in doing all things, in number, weight, and mea&s;ure, could we but take a right mea&s;ure of his doings in all the pa&s;&s;ages of his Provi|dence.</P>
<P>On Tue&s;day the &s;eventeenth, the me&s;&s;engers came to my brother <HI>Prin,</HI> &s;o as by Thur&s;day after he came to me to <HI>Guern&s;ey,</HI> where we being fea&s;ted by all the Mini&s;ters there, and more e&s;pecially by Mr <HI>De|lamarch</HI> at his hou&s;e, and my &s;elfe by &s;ome worthy Merchants in the Towne: we were no &s;ooner ready to &s;et &s;aile, but the wind came about for us to goe for <HI>England.</HI> And here I cannot omit to ob&s;erve the &s;weet Providence of God, in bringing our friends from <HI>London</HI> &s;o pro&s;perou&s;ly. They came on Thur&s;day from <HI>London</HI> to <HI>Southampton,</HI> the next day they provided a Bark, the while the wind was oppo&s;ite, but Saturday morning, the fourteenth, they being ready, the wind came about and brought them the next day to <HI>Guern&s;ey.</HI> They &s;taid not one day for the wind in comming, nor we for going for <HI>England.</HI> On Saturday the 21. about two of the clock in the afternoone, taking our leave of the worthy Lievtenant, and the re&s;t, we &s;et &s;aile for <HI>Eng|land;</HI> where the wind, by a gentle gale, brought us the next day at night, being the Lords day, to arrive. And here againe I ob&s;erve two &s;peciall pa&s;&s;ages of the divine Providence. Fir&s;t, that the wind blow|ing flack, and the night comming on, and we being now di&s;tant from from the maine land three or foure leagues, &s;o as the ma&s;ter was &s;ome|what perplexed for want of wind; we encouraged him, and there|upon all our company went into the hold, and fell to &s;ing P&s;almes: Wee had no &s;ooner begun to &s;ing, but pre&s;ently the wind began to whi&s;tle up, &s;o that we might heare the Bark to row&s;e through the waves: we continued our &s;inging, and the wind continued his blow|ing, untill ju&s;t as we had done &s;inging, the ma&s;ter had ca&s;t anchor, we not knowing it, till we came upon the deck, for which we ble&s;|&s;ed our God. The &s;econd Circum&s;tance was, that in the very &s;ame
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place, where I had parted la&s;t from <HI>England,</HI> did our Bark now ca&s;t anchor for <HI>England,</HI> God &s;o di&s;po&s;ing it by his wind. And this was in the mouth of <HI>Dartmouth,</HI> where leaving our Bark to goe for <HI>South|hampton</HI> with our Stuffe, we lodged in <HI>Dartmouth</HI> that night, con|cluding and refre&s;hing our long Pilgrimage with the clo&s;e of the Sab|baticall re&s;t of that day.</P>
<P>The next day, being courteou&s;ly entertained of &s;ome of the be&s;t of the Towne, who al&s;o provided us hor&s;es, being nine or ten in company, we ha&s;tened for <HI>London;</HI> and came that night to <HI>Exceter,</HI> within night, where we &s;aw the faces of many religious people, who mo&s;t lovingly entreated us, many of them accompanying us the next day out of the City. We rode the next day to <HI>Lime,</HI> where comming, though &s;ome|what late in the evening, we were kindly entertained by the reverend and godly Mini&s;ter there, Mr <HI>Geere,</HI> and by a worthy Ju&s;tice of the Peace. Thence we &s;et for ward the next morning before day, ha&s;tening to come to the Lecture at <HI>Dorche&s;ter,</HI> which we did; being there re|fre&s;hed both in &s;oule and body, where we were &s;aluted, and entertained by many worthy Chri&s;tians. After dinner the &s;ame day we rode on our journey, lodging at a private Towne betweene <HI>Dorche&s;ter</HI> and <HI>Salisbury.</HI> The next day we dined at <HI>Salisbury,</HI> where we vi&s;ited Mr <HI>Thatcher,</HI> a reverend and laborious Mini&s;ter there, but very &s;ickly at that time, and &s;ince decea&s;ed: whence in the afternoone, being ac|companied by &s;undry good Chri&s;tians in the City, we rode to <HI>Andover</HI> that night, being in the way met by &s;undry good Chri&s;tians of that Towne, who entertained us very courteou&s;ly, and accompanied us on in our journey the next day; on which, being Friday, we reached to <HI>Egham</HI> that night, being met by the way, before we came at <HI>Bagshot,</HI> by many of our loving friends and neighbours of <HI>London,</HI> and e&s;peci|ally my Friday-&s;treet neighbours, my old Pari&s;hioners; and when we were not farre pa&s;t <HI>Bagshot,</HI> we were met by my mo&s;t loving and dear wife, who came accompanied with many loving friends, and worthy Citizens of <HI>London;</HI> among whom was that mo&s;t affectionate friend, Mr <HI>Willingham,</HI> and his loving wife, who came with my wife in the Coatch, which he had provided for that purpo&s;e. What expre&s;&s;ions of joy and love there were at our meeting, cannot be expre&s;&s;ed. Well, to <HI>Egham</HI> we came in the clo&s;e of the day, where every hou&s;e brought forth a light to light us to our lodging, where we were mo&s;t nobly entertained by multitudes of friends, that from <HI>London</HI> met us there. They called it our wedding night, which was principally celebrated
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by that worthy and reverend Mini&s;ter of <HI>Egham,</HI> Mr <HI>Rayner,</HI> who prayed with us, with &s;olemne giving of thanks, expre&s;&s;ed al&s;o in &s;ing|ing of P&s;almes, which he had mo&s;t fitly and &s;weetly compo&s;ed of ma|ny parts and parcels of P&s;almes, very admirably accommodated to the pre&s;ent occa&s;ion; and all which, continuing almo&s;t a whole houre, Mr <HI>Rayner</HI> repeated without book.</P>
<P>The next morning very early all our company was ready, and after prayer took hor&s;e, being on our journey for <HI>London</HI> before the Sunne aro&s;e. Of the whole traine, con&s;i&s;ting of two or three hundred, many went out of <HI>Egham,</HI> not without their branches of Ro&s;emary and Bayes, as En&s;ignes of the wedding: in&s;omuch as all the way as wee rode, the poore people brought forth whole baskets of Ro&s;emary and Bayes, to furni&s;h every one in the traine, which continually was en|crea&s;ed by the way. At every Towne the Bells were rung as we pa&s;&s;ed through, the &s;treets being &s;trowed with people to &s;ee our faces. But by the way I ob&s;erved the Sunne ri&s;ing with an extraordinary brightne&s;&s;e by rea&s;on of the clearne&s;&s;e of the ayre, the whole skie notwith&s;tanding being covered over from &s;ide to &s;ide round about with one entire cloud, as it were a &s;eamle&s;&s;e mantle or vaile upon the whole hemi&s;pheare, only the Sunne unclouded; But &s;till as the Sunne mounted higher and higher, this mantle or clould did by degrees draw back, and give way to the Sunne, and &s;o pa&s;&s;ed before it, untill the cloud did, by degrees, wholly vani&s;h, as driven away by the Sunnes brightne&s;&s;e, without the lea&s;t breath of wind to cau&s;e it &s;o to pa&s;&s;e away. This was ob&s;erved al&s;o by many in the company; &s;o as, though it were the end of <HI>No|vember,</HI> yet after the Sunne had cha&s;ed away the cloud which fled be|fore it, never was there a day in Somer more cleare, more bright, more &s;weet and comfortable then that was. And it was the more to be ob|&s;erved, becau&s;e all the dayes in our journey, from our fir&s;t landing, were much clouded, and thickned with mi&s;ts or fogs, only beginning to cleare up as we approached to <HI>Egham,</HI> where our friends met us. So as the extraordinarine&s;&s;e of this dayes brightne&s;&s;e and beauty, &s;o cleared up as before, made &s;ome impre&s;&s;ion in my minde of a &s;weet and glorious day, or time, which the Sun of righteou&s;ne&s;&s;e, ari&s;ing over <HI>England,</HI> with healing under his wings, was now about to pro|cure for us, after once that black cloud which hanged over the Land, was by degrees cha&s;ed away. But this by the way.</P>
<P>Nor did the cloud fa&s;ter wane before the Sun, then the faces of our friends from <HI>London</HI> began more and more to &s;hine, being now multi|plied,
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as it were into &s;o many con&s;tellations of bright &s;tarres; by the reflection whereof, our way towards <HI>London</HI> &s;eemed to be another <HI>via lactea,</HI> or <GAP DESC="foreign">, as the Philo&s;opher calls it, that milkie-white brightne&s;&s;e, which we &s;ee in the heavens in a cleare &s;tarty night.</P>
<P>But now in the mid&s;t of all this glory and favour ca&s;t upon us, and &s;hining forth from the faces and affections of Gods people, I began to fee, and to be &s;en&s;ible of a farre greater danger, then I had beene in during all the time of my impri&s;onment and exile. For then and there I di&s;played all my &s;ailes, to be filled with the gentle gales of comforts breathing from heaven upon me: but now I &s;aw a nece&s;&s;ity of taking in my &s;ailes, le&s;t the wind of Gods favour, and of his peoples affecti|ons blowing &s;o &s;trongly, yet &s;weetly, upon me, might overturne, and &s;ink my brittle Bark now in the very bo&s;ome of the haven. For I began now to feele &s;ome &s;tirrings within me, Satan now labouring to overthrow me (as he did <HI>Adam)</HI> in this my &s;eeming Paradi&s;e; which he could not doe while I lay on <HI>Jobs</HI> dunghill. Therefore as the Mariner, &s;eeing an Herican approaching, pre&s;ently takes in his &s;ailes: &s;o did I now, I de&s;cried in this calme a &s;torme abrewing; hereupon I did retire my thoughts inward, and did earne&s;tly pray to the Lord, that he would no le&s;&s;e &s;trongly &s;upport me with his hand now in this pro&s;perous condition, then he had done formerly in all my &s;ufferings. And the Lord heard me; for both for the pre&s;ent he an&s;wered me, My grace is &s;ufficient for thee, my heart all the way as I rode, putting it &s;elfe in a po&s;ture of defence again&s;t Satans fiery darts, and couching &s;o low, that his bullets flew all over my head: and afterwards, le&s;t I &s;hould be exalted with abundance of &s;alutations in <HI>London</HI> &s;treets, and abroad, a me&s;&s;enger of Satan was &s;ent to buffet me, as we &s;hall heare anon.</P>
<P>Thus we are in our way to <HI>London;</HI> we dine at <HI>Brainford,</HI> where not only all the Innes, but &s;treets were filled; the company flowing in as a maine &s;pringtide, not only filling the high way, but overflow|ing the banks all along. They were multiplied at <HI>Brainford</HI> to many thou&s;ands, hor&s;es and coatches filling the Road from thence to <HI>Lon|don;</HI> which no le&s;&s;e filled the Adver&s;aries hearts with envy and madne&s;&s;e, who for &s;o long time before had rejoyced and made merry, during our durance. A little before I came to Charing Cro&s;&s;e (as be|fore is touched) a woman being on foot in the mid&s;t of the hor&s;e, cal|led to me, and &s;aid, O Sir, this is a glorious wedding day: To whom I replied, It is indeed, good woman, ble&s;&s;ed be God. Yea, &s;aid &s;he
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againe, but your wedding day upon the pillary was more glorious. I admiring this &s;peech of the woman, an&s;wered, indeed it is true. And truly &s;o it was; for my &s;uffering on the pilary was made glorious by an inward &s;pirituall power, and hand of heaven upon my &s;oule, make|ing it to ride as it were in triumph, in that charret: but this my returne from captivity was attended with an externall glory &s;hining forth from humane favour; although all was the effect and fruit of Gods mercy and providence, cau&s;ing the &s;ame; who in all, is to be ble&s;&s;ed for ever.</P>
<P>And when I was newly pa&s;t Charing Cro&s;&s;e, over again&s;t the Mewes, Sr <HI>Peter O&s;burne,</HI> Governor of <HI>Guern&s;ey,</HI> where I was pri&s;oner, was &s;taying in his Coatch, with the boot downe (no doubt as he was ap|pointed) to receive me into his coatch, and &s;o to carry me to his hou&s;e, at <HI>Chel&s;ey;</HI> which he tendering unto me, I de&s;ired his honour to ex|cu&s;e me, &s;eeing I was all in a &s;weat, and fit to goe no where, but to my owne hou&s;e, le&s;t my health might be endangered. He pre&s;&s;ed me againe and againe: I an&s;wered &s;till as before. Then &s;aid he, take no|tice that I have required you to goe with me: I replyed, And I pray you Sir take notice of the an&s;wer, and rea&s;on I give you, why I dare not goe with you. So he di&s;mi&s;&s;ed me; and we rid on; the &s;treets all along, on each &s;ide thronged with people, and all the hou&s;es, and windowes from the Mewes, to my hou&s;e in Alderman-bury, full of beholders of all &s;exes, and ages of all &s;orts; we were three long houres in pa&s;&s;ing from the Mewes, to Alderman-bury. Again&s;t my com|ming home that night, &s;ome friends waiting in my hou&s;e for my com|ming, one of them e&s;pied there a &s;trange man in a &s;carlet cloake, mu|&s;led about his face; and being demanded what he was, and not giving a cleare an&s;wer, they wi&s;hed him to be gone; whereupon he went his way. So I comming &s;afely home, enjoyed naturall re&s;t in mine own hou&s;e; and the next day, being the Lords Sabbath, &s;pirituall, and cor|porall re&s;t from all my labours pa&s;t.</P>
<P>On the monday following, my brother <HI>Prin</HI> and I went to attend the Hou&s;e of Commons; my brother <HI>Bastwick</HI> being not yet returned from <HI>Sillie.</HI> We pre&s;ented our per&s;ons with our petitions to the Hou&s;e, for the hearing of our cau&s;e. It was granted; a &s;peciall Committe was appointed for the examination of our cau&s;e; and in the &s;ame Order of the Hou&s;e to the &s;ame Committe (a thing wherein the hand of di|vine Providence is not a little &s;eene) it was ordered, that after the exa|mination of our cau&s;es, the Courts and proceedings both of the High
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Commi&s;&s;ion, and &s;tarre chamber &s;hould be examined; and the i&s;&s;ue was; our cau&s;e was declared and voted fir&s;t by the Committee, and after by the whole Hou&s;e, to be innocent, and all the proceedings of tho&s;e Courts again&s;t us illegall, again&s;t the lawes of the land, and the liberties of the &s;ubject: and on the other &s;ide, both tho&s;e Courts were alike voted to bee illegall; and thereupon an Act was drawne up, and pa&s;&s;ed, and &s;tands now in force, for the utter aboli|&s;hing of both tho&s;e Courts. So they are brought downe, and fallen, and we are ri&s;en, and &s;tand upright. And ble&s;&s;ed be the Lord, that <NOTE PLACE="marg">P&s;al. 2<GAP DESC="illegible" REASON="faint" EXTENT="1 letter">, <GAP DESC="illegible" REASON="faint" EXTENT="1 letter">.</NOTE> both tho&s;e Courts fell under &s;uch a Cau&s;e, as gives them no ju&s;t cau&s;e to complaine. But for our cau&s;e, although the honourable Hou&s;e of Commons have voted it &s;o farre for the clearing of us, as it can yet goe: yet the Tran&s;mi&s;&s;ion thereof to the Hou&s;e of Lords is not hither|to pa&s;&s;ed, for a recompence of our wrongs &s;u&s;tained. But herein we are patients with the whole land, which lyes a bleeding, while the cau&s;e of innocent blood cannot find redre&s;&s;e. Yet ble&s;&s;ed be God, that by vertue of that vote I have liberty to preach; although I have &s;uf|fered not a little for that fir&s;t Sermon I preached, after my liberty ob|tained, as my fir&s;t-fruits paid to the Parliament at <HI>We&s;tmin&s;ter.</HI> Cla|mors were rai&s;ed by &s;ome malignant &s;pirits, and received too credu|lou&s;ly by &s;ome of the better minded, who had not heard the Sermon; which the more grieved me. But how ju&s;tly fame did cen&s;ure me, the Sermon it &s;elfe (if once it may obtaine licence to be printed, which it hath a long time waited for) will clearly &s;how. Many other wrongs have I &s;uffered, both by fal&s;e reports, and by bookes publi&s;hed under the name of Mr. <HI>Burton</HI> in generall, which the &s;imple hearted people took to be mine; being only counterfeited to get away their farthings. But the righteous judge will one day cleare all. When the next day af|ter that Sermon I was taken with a fit of the &s;tone, the fir&s;t &s;en&s;ible fruit of my long clo&s;e impri&s;onment; fame gave it out, that it was for griefe and &s;hame of my &s;aid Sermon. Though after this, I have had &s;undry fits of the &s;tone. I might mention many other reproaches ca&s;t upon me, &s;ince my enlargement, which I have learned the more ea&s;ily to dige&s;t, and contemne, (&s;aving only that I take them as me&s;&s;engers of <NOTE PLACE="marg">1 Cor. 12. 9</NOTE> Satan, &s;ent to buffet me) by my experience in my greater &s;ufferings. He that hath &s;tood an innocent upon the pillary, and the<GAP DESC="illegible" REASON="missing" EXTENT="1 letter">e had his eares cut off; which he endured with not only patience, but alacrity and triumph: cannot he (trow you) brook to be unju&s;tly branded for an <HI>Infamous</HI> per&s;on, and that by &s;uch as were the prime authors of
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&s;uch bloody, and barbarous cruelty, but he mu&s;t needs be &s;ick for &s;orrow of that, which he accounts his glory and crowne? Or &s;hall &s;uch a one be a&s;hamed to beare in his body &s;uch glorio is marks of the Lord Je&s;us? Or, he that cho&s;e rather to be deprived of all, liberty, livelyhood, eares, credit with the malignant world, degrees in &s;chooles, yea his &s;weet native country, wife, children, friends, all outward com|forts, rather then betray the cau&s;e of Chri&s;t, and ba&s;ely yeild to unrea|&s;onable and ab&s;urd men: after the &s;uffering of all the&s;e, is it &s;o ea&s;ie a matter (thinke you) to overthrow &s;uch a one with the impotent breath of a man that &s;hall dye; or of the &s;on of man, that &s;hall be made as gra&s;&s;e? &s;hould I now at la&s;t &s;o forget the <HI>Lord my maker, as to feare</HI> <NOTE PLACE="marg">E&s;a. 51. 12, 13.</NOTE> <HI>continnually every day, becau&s;e of the fury of the oppre&s;&s;or, as if he were ready to destroy;</HI> of whom the Prophet &s;aith, <HI>And where is the fury of the Oppre&s;&s;or?</HI> Behold my witne&s;&s;e is in Heaven, and my Record is on <NOTE PLACE="marg">Iob. 16 19.</NOTE> high. And certainly, if witne&s;&s;ing the Truth again&s;t Fal&s;hood, and openly detecting the machinations of Apo&s;tats (if ever they were other then di&s;&s;embling Hypocrites, before their vizards were pulld off) de|&s;erve the brand of <HI>An infamous di&s;turber of the peace of this Church, and State;</HI> I will weare it as a badge of the greate&s;t honour of my &s;er|vice to Chri&s;t in this World. And I ble&s;&s;e my Lord who accounted me faithfull, and put me in this &s;ervice, and enabled me &s;o therein, as to de&s;erve to be reproached no otherwi&s;e then the Prophet <HI>Eliah</HI> was by the grand di&s;turber and troubler of <HI>I&s;rael,</HI> to whom the Prophet replyed <NOTE PLACE="marg">1 Kings 18 17, 18.</NOTE> <HI>I have not troubled I&s;rael, but thou and thy fathers hou&s;e, in that ye have for&s;aken the Commandements of the Lord, and have followed Baalim.</HI> And if by <HI>[This Church]</HI> be under&s;tood the Prelaticall or Hierarchicall and by [State] a Tyrannicall, and lawle&s;&s;e Government, I heartily thank God, that I have bin a <HI>disturber</HI> of the&s;e &s;o, as never &s;ince that time they could peacably go on (as before they did) in their rebuilding of <HI>Babel,</HI> the end wherof wil be confu&s;ion, or in reedifying of <HI>Jerico,</HI> the cur&s;e wher|of <NOTE PLACE="marg">Io&s;h. 6. 26.</NOTE> was the rooting out of the whole race, and po&s;terity of the Rebuilder.</P>
<P>What &s;hould I &s;peake of the many reproaches and infamies, which I have undergone &s;ince the cleering of my Cau&s;e in the honorable Hou&s;e of Commons, ever to be honoured of all po&s;terity? But this was my comfort all along, even the clearne&s;&s;e of my Con&s;cience, being not guilty to my &s;elfe of any ju&s;t cau&s;e by me given, why any, (unle&s;&s;e Pre|laticall and Ie&s;uiticall &s;pirits, or &s;uch as are through ignorance &s;educed by them) &s;hould fall &s;o fowle upon me, &s;aving that the more any man endeavors to come neere&s;t to Chri&s;t, and &s;o to &s;hake off the &s;hackles of &s;inne and yoake of Antichri&s;tian u&s;urpation over the &s;oules of men the <NOTE PLACE="marg">Rev. 18. 13.</NOTE>
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more nece&s;&s;arily and unavoidably he mu&s;t pa&s;&s;e the pikes of all tho&s;e who&s;e conver&s;ation in the world cannot find elbow-room enough to <NOTE PLACE="marg">L<GAP DESC="illegible" REASON="faint" EXTENT="2 letters">. 13. 24.</NOTE> walke in Chri&s;ts narrow way, which leadeth unto life. Nor need this be made a wonder in our dayes, which hath bin the perpetuall practi&s;e of the world in all ages &s;ince Chri&s;t had a Church upon earth &s;ince the Lord him&s;elfe put that enmity between the Serpent and the Woman, <NOTE PLACE="marg">Gen. 3. 15.</NOTE> and between her &s;eed and his; yea in this Age of ours (wherein Sa|tans wrath is &s;o great, becau&s;e he knoweth, that he hath but a &s;hort time, and wherein the ten horned Bea&s;t, and his limmes are fighting their la&s;t battell in <HI>Harmageddon,</HI> whither the Almighty him&s;elf brings them, that he might &s;hew him&s;elfe to be the Almighty in giving the <NOTE PLACE="marg">Revel. 16. 14, 16.</NOTE> la&s;t and mo&s;t terrible defeat to all their power and plots) not to &s;ee &s;uch an enmity were a wonder, when we have already &s;eene what a wonder-working age it hath been (as before hath been touched) and certainly &s;hall yet &s;ee greater things then the&s;e. And therefore for poor me to be &s;et in the Front (as it were) of this battell between Chri&s;t and Antichri&s;t, nnd to be &s;hot at, as a prime kindler of the coals; what wounds I receive from the adver&s;aries, I &s;hall weare them as crownes upon me, who&s;e weight the greater it is, the more &s;en&s;ible thereof is my weakne&s;&s;e and unworthine&s;&s;e to bear it.</P>
<P>Again, how I have been reproached and reviled by tho&s;e two Cham|pions of <HI>Canterbury,</HI> to wit, Dr. <HI>Heylin,</HI> and Dr. <HI>Dow,</HI> whom the Pre|late imployed in the writing and publi&s;hing of their two Bookes in an&s;wer to that of mine, <HI>For God and the King,</HI> I referre to every judi|cious, ingenuous, and Orthodox Reader of my Book and theirs. And they writ again&s;t me, when I was fa&s;t clo&s;e Pri&s;oner in the Fleet, bea|ting and wounding me at their plea&s;ure, when I was bound hand and foot; and when (though I had had opportunity, which I had not, to an&s;wer them, yet) I could not have got my Book licen&s;ed for the Pre&s;&s;e, or yet any man that dur&s;t print, when they &s;aw the Author to be &s;o u&s;ed. As for their An&s;wers to the Doctrinall points in my &s;aid Book, not onely the Reverend Mini&s;ters of <HI>London</HI> in their late Re|mon&s;trance, exhibited unto the Honourable Hou&s;e of Commons, and openly debated and proved from point to point, have among other things taxed as erroneous, but my Doctrines them&s;elves doe&s;t and &s;till un&s;haken, intire, and orthodox, notwith&s;tanding all their proud and bold attempts to batter them downe. But where they cannot (as all along) fa&s;ten their envenomed darts again&s;t the Doctrines, they have &s;harpned their virulent &s;tile again&s;t my per&s;on, &s;prinkling it all over
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with as black di&s;graces, as the Gall and Vinegar of their Inke, but much more of their imbittered and galled Spirit could poure forth. D. <HI>Dow</HI> &s;pends his whole &s;econd Chapter profe&s;&s;edly in going about to grace my whole cour&s;e and manner of life; doing therein, as a De|clamatory Orator, who having a bad Cau&s;e to plead, falls fowle in the fir&s;t place upon the Per&s;on of his Adver&s;ary. As the Orator <HI>Tertullus,</HI> whom the High Prie&s;ts had feed to plead again&s;t <HI>Paul;</HI> who, after his colloguing Preface to <HI>Foelix,</HI> for a favourable audience, he begins thus again&s;t <HI>Paul,</HI> &s;aying, <HI>We have found this man a Pe&s;tilent fellow, and a mover of Sedition among all the Jewes, &amp;c.</HI> And &s;o this Doctour <NOTE PLACE="marg">A<GAP DESC="illegible" REASON="faint" EXTENT="1+ letters">. 2<GAP DESC="illegible" REASON="faint" EXTENT="1 letter">.</NOTE> hath far&s;ed his Chapter with many &s;ore charges upon my Per&s;on. One is, <HI>I can devi&s;e</HI> (&s;aith he) <HI>no better Apologie, nor other way to free him from the ju&s;t imputation of imbittered malice, and traiterous intention, then to &s;ay, that di&s;content at once hath crackt his brain and his con&s;cience.</HI> To which I an&s;wer, <HI>The Lord rebuke thee</HI> But he begins at my breeding in <HI>Cambridge, for &s;ome &s;hort time</HI> (as he &s;aith) &s;urely <HI>that &s;ome &s;hort time was</HI> &s;ix yeares together intire, taking my Degree of Mr. of Arts the next yeere. Well, what then? <HI>Where he was never ob&s;erved for any excellency, but that he could play well on an In&s;trument.</HI> Surely I plead not excellencie in any thing. What God hath freely given me, I ble&s;&s;e him for. Yet this there be &s;ome yet living can te&s;tifie, that I was &s;o ob|&s;erved for a Ciceronean, that I was in reque&s;t for making Orations for Gentlemen in the Colledge; which I &s;peake not to glory of, but to tell Dr. <HI>Dow,</HI> that <HI>H. B.</HI> will at this day di&s;pute with <HI>Chri&s;topher Dow&punc;</HI> either in Latin or Greek. That I could play well <HI>on an In&s;trument,</HI> I thank God al&s;o; and the rather, becau&s;e that quality was borne with me, and it never was any hindrance but a furtherance to my &s;tudies. <HI>But after he was a Schoole-ma&s;ter in a Noble-mans hou&s;e,</HI> (&s;aith he) <HI>hee found the favour to be admitted to a meane place in the Clo&s;et of his Ma|je&s;ty that now is, then Prince of Wales: which &s;ometime he was wont to execute in his ho&s;e and dublet, with a perfuming pot in one hand, and a fire-&s;hovell in the other; and as I have heard, received for his paines</HI> 5. <HI>pound per annum, and a Livery.</HI> Now all the&s;e particulars he relates, as &s;o many di&s;graces upon my per&s;on. Why? was't a di&s;grace for a yong man as I was, for a while to teach the two Noble &s;onnes of a Noble-man in a Noble hou&s;e? And for the favour I found in Court to be ad|mitted to a mean place, in the Clo&s;et of his Maje&s;ty that now is, then Prince of <HI>Wales:</HI> our Doctor here is quite out. For fir&s;t, the place in the Clo&s;et, how meane&s;oever he accounts it, which I was admitted in|to,
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was the whole office of the Princes Clo&s;et, both the Great and the Privie Clo&s;et, intirely. I had the Charge of all, to provide furniture and Books, and all requi&s;ites for tho&s;e Clo&s;ets, which came to no &s;mall value. 'Tis true indeed, that by the Prelaticall party working in the Kings Court, and which ever had a malignant eye upon me, I was kept from the Title of Clerke, but I had the Office of Clerk: So as when the Princes &s;ervants were to be allowed two parts of three, pro|portionably to the Kings &s;ervants, I had for 20. nobles (the Clerkes wages of the Kings Clo&s;et) 5. pound allowed to me. For the Livery, it was ju&s;t the &s;ame that the Kings Clerke had; but for my part, I ne|ver received it, becau&s;e I never demanded it, being a red Jacket, and I wot not what el&s;e, an old ob&s;olete Livery for the Clerke: But the Doctor hath (I know not through what errour) quite omitted the be&s;t part of the time that I &s;pent in Court. For my fir&s;t Court &s;ervice was to that mo&s;t noble, and of ever mo&s;t glorious memory, Prince <HI>Henry,</HI> whom I &s;erved upon &s;even yeares &s;pace; and which I would have been willing to have &s;erved many &s;even yeers in my dublet and ho&s;e, even in a far meaner office, conditionally it had plea&s;ed God to have continu|ed his life &s;o long. A gratious Prince and Ma&s;ter he was to me; hee was plea&s;ed often to admit me to &s;peake with him alone, and for any motion I made to him, I ever received a mo&s;t gracious an&s;wer. I could tell the Doctor, how when &s;ome Officers had in my ab&s;ence given way to the Players to bring their bag and baggage into the Clo&s;et, there to dre&s;&s;e them&s;elves, upon my complaint to his Highne&s;&s;e, he did for|bid it. Another time, from an old cu&s;tome (and I being then out of the way) &s;ome of the Gentlemen dancing in the Great Clo&s;et, his High|ne&s;&s;e upon my complaint to him, quite for bade that al&s;o, &s;aying (being with me alone in his Privie Clo&s;et, where he u&s;ed me with the mo&s;t &s;weet carriage and communication, that even one familiar would u&s;e unto another) that he would not have any to dance in his Clo&s;ets, and bid me &s;o to tell them from him. I could &s;peak much more in this kind, but I forbeare. Now if ever I waited in my ho&s;e and doublet, it was to that Noble Prince <HI>Henry.</HI> But be it knowne to Dr. <HI>Dow,</HI> that for all &s;uch offices, as of perfuming, and the like, I kept a &s;ervant to doe them, as the Kings Clerke did. I ever carried my &s;elfe &s;utably to my degree, as a Scholler though living in Court, where I &s;tudied no le&s;&s;e then if I had been in the Univer&s;ity; Yet I remember, that one time my man being out of the way, and the Prince comming &s;uddenly to Chappell, before we were aware, I not having my Cloake or Gowne on, &s;natcht
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up the perfuming Pan, to &s;weeten the roome where the Prince was to pa&s;&s;e, as the manner was. And this is all that <HI>&s;ometime,</HI> that I did &s;o, it being al&s;o a &s;olemne time, when a great Prince (as I remember, the Palatine) came along with him.</P>
<P>But (&s;aith he) <HI>upon the Prince Charles his going into Spaine, H. B. whether his indi&s;cretion did mini&s;ter cau&s;e of &s;u&s;pition, or what ever the cau&s;e were, certain it is, he was put out of the li&s;t for that voyage, and that when his goods were a Ship-board.</HI> Here the Dr. againe is wide for my goods were not a Ship-board; hereof he cannot &s;ay, <HI>Certain it is;</HI> but <HI>certaine it is,</HI> I confe&s;&s;e, that I was put out of the Li&s;t, and that al&s;o when my goods were truncked: But <HI>inter pontem &amp; fontem mi&s;ericor|dia Domini:</HI> Between the City and the Ship was Gods mercy &s;eene, which yet he imputes to &s;ome &s;u&s;pition of my indi&s;cretion. Indeed, if my plaine dealing again&s;t Popery, be indi&s;cretion, I can hardly to this day, as old as I am, and as bitten as I have been, &s;o avoid the &s;u&s;piti|on, as not to make manife&s;tation thereof, yea although it had been in <HI>Spaine</HI> it &s;elfe; as <HI>Paul</HI> did in <HI>Athens,</HI> when he di&s;puted with the Phi|lo&s;ophers in <HI>Areopagus.</HI> And therefore I have cau&s;e to ble&s;&s;e God to <NOTE PLACE="marg">Acts 17.</NOTE> this day, that I was <HI>unli&s;ted</HI> for that Spani&s;h Voyage, where perhaps &s;ome &s;uch indi&s;cretion might have left me in the lurch of the Inqui&s;i|tion, where our Country-man Mr. <HI>Bedle</HI> had been for &s;o many yeeres immured, whence no more redemption then from the Infernall Pri|&s;on. And why &s;hould I have e&s;caped in <HI>Spaine</HI> that Babyloni&s;h pri|&s;on, when I could not e&s;cape the like in <HI>England?</HI> But what ever other cau&s;e it was on mans part, Certaine it is, that Gods good providence prevented that, that &s;o this &s;hould not be prevented.</P>
<P>But this he calls a little after, <HI>His hoped Voyage into Spaine.</HI> Indeed if Dr. <HI>Dow</HI> had been the man, well might he have called it, <HI>His hoped Voyage into Spaine,</HI> and &s;o of his de&s;ired preferment thereby a Bi&s;ho|prick at lea&s;t; and I ble&s;&s;e God, that both I e&s;caped the Voyage, and the Preferment too.</P>
<P>But <HI>His Maje&s;ty upon his mi&s;behaviour di&s;mi&s;&s;ed him the Court, whence being ca&s;hiered, and all his hopes of preferment da&s;ht &amp;c.</HI> The&s;e malici|ous mi&s;conceits of the Doctor are detected of wicked fal&s;hood be|fore. And &s;o I will follow him in his Wild-goo&s;e Cha&s;e no fur|ther.</P>
<P>And now that he hath &s;pit all his &s;pite, what is all this heap of di&s;|graces, being &s;ummed up together? All doth not amount to this; that Mr. <HI>H. B.</HI> is either a drunkard or a whore-ma&s;ter, or any &s;uch vitious
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per&s;on, or an idle droane in his Mini&s;try, or one that was ever, or would be a double beneficed man, or one that favours Arminiani&s;me, or Popery, or one that &s;uffers his wife (had he &s;uch a one) to be his ma|&s;ter, or his Curate hers. And now &s;hould I as diligently trace the &s;teps of this Doctor, as he hath hunted mine; O Doctor, I will &s;ay no more, but draw a vaile over the re&s;t: <HI>Nolo in hoc ulcere e&s;&s;e unguis.</HI> And &s;o I leave both the Doctors to the righteous Judge of quick and dead.</P>
<P>And what &s;hall I &s;ay to the grand ma&s;ter of the&s;e two Doctors, who for their &s;o good &s;ervice hath &s;o richly rewarded them? But God reward both him and them according to their deeds.</P>
<P>And now it is time for me to &s;hut up my di&s;cour&s;e of the cour&s;e of my life, it now drawing on apace to its finall period. As for the re|proaches I have undergone by fal&s;e brethren about my &s;uffering, as that it was ju&s;t, I will bundle them all up, either to burne them, as <HI>Con&s;tantine</HI> did, or to leave them in the hands of the righteous Judge of all the world, who will doe right. And here let me clo&s;e with a &s;tory concerning my &s;uffering; wherein it will appeare, that the righ|teous Judge from heaven hath &s;et to his hand to the Hou&s;e of Com|mons, in the vindication of my Cau&s;e.</P>
<P>Since my returne from exile, a certaine Atturney at Law being then in the hou&s;e of one Mrs <HI>Monday,</HI> then dwelling a little within Alder&s;gate in <HI>Little Brittaine,</HI> Febr. 17. 1640. and mention being made of my name and &s;ufferings, and Mrs <HI>Monday</HI> &s;aying, that <HI>Eng|land</HI> had never thriven &s;ince he &s;uffered; and that though &s;he had ne|ver &s;eene him yet &s;he had &s;hed many a teare for him: the &s;aid Attur|ney replied, Could &s;o many wi&s;e men and Judges be deceived? for he &s;uffered no more then he de&s;erved, nor &s;o much neither; and therefore what a pox (&s;uch was his language) &s;hould you be &s;orry for &s;uch a man as he? No &s;ooner had the&s;e words pa&s;&s;ed from him, but his right eare &s;uddenly and &s;trangely fell a bleeding at the lower tip of it; and &s;o long it bled, as it wet a whole handkercher, &s;o as it might have beene wrung out; whereat his heart &s;o fainted, that he &s;ent for halfe a pint of Sack, and drunk it up him&s;elfe alone. Whereat his brother then pre&s;ent, with &s;undry more, &s;aid unto him; You may &s;ee brother what it is to &s;peak again&s;t Mr <HI>Burton:</HI> Yet &s;uch was this mans &s;pirit, that in &s;tead of taking notice of the hand of God herein, he continued cur|&s;ing, &s;aying, what a pox, had I not &s;poken a word again&s;t <HI>Burton,</HI> my eare would have bled; though he could not at that time &s;hew any rea&s;on, or naturall cau&s;e, why his eare &s;hould then bleed, it being
<PB N="51" REF="30">
whole and &s;ound; &s;o as upon the cea&s;ing of the blood, Mrs <HI>Mondays</HI> maid wiping the blood off his eare, and looking wi&s;tfully upon it, could not di&s;cerne whence the blood &s;hould i&s;&s;ue, but only a &s;mall pore, or hole no more then a pins point could goe into, there being neither &s;cratch, nor &s;cab, nor &s;carre upon his eare. The per&s;ons then pre&s;ent that &s;aw this, were the&s;e; the Atturneys brother and his wife, Mrs <HI>Ad|cock,</HI> Mrs <HI>Anne Roe,</HI> Mrs <HI>Ioan Monday,</HI> and <HI>Ellin Hutton</HI> her &s;ervant. All this Mrs <HI>Monday</HI> and her maid te&s;tified before &s;undry Chri&s;tians of good credit, my &s;elfe and wife being pre&s;ent.</P>
<P>Yet after this, within &s;ome few dayes, the &s;aid Atturney had found out a flamme, to make Mrs <HI>Monday,</HI> and others, beleeve, that the cau&s;e of that bleeding of his eare was by a razor, which he had bor|rowed two or three dayes before; wherewith he having cut his eare, and at that time rubbing it, it fell a bleeding. But neither was this put&punc; off ready at hand when his eare &s;o fell a bleeding, nor did the maid di&s;cerne any &s;uch thing, &s;ave only one little hole no larger then a pins point, which could not po&s;&s;ibly be made with a round razor.</P>
<P>But after this, for all this &s;havers device, he forbore any more to come to Mrs <HI>Mondays</HI> hou&s;e; who asking him at her doore, why he was grown &s;uch a &s;tranger, and praying him to come in, he refu&s;ed, &s;aying, No, I will come no more to your hou&s;e to work miracles. But I pray God he may &s;inne no more, le&s;t a wor&s;e thing happen unto him.</P>
<P>And now to &s;toppe the mouthes of this, and all other reproachers of my &s;ufferings as ju&s;t, I will only referre the Reader to tho&s;e votes of the Honourable Hou&s;e of Commons, whereby he &s;hall finde in the Book, entituled, <HI>A New Di&s;covery of the Prelates Tyranny,</HI> pag. 139. &amp;c. my innocency is cleared to all the world, by that repre&s;entative Body of this Kingdome.</P>
<TRAILER>FINIS.</TRAILER>
</DIV1>
</BODY>
</TEXT>
</EEBO>
</ETS>
