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and it was resolved that the Doctor should give him both that and the Holy Eucharist on the next day. To which end the Doctor came, and after a short retirement they two returned to the company ; and then the Doctor gave him and some of his friends the comfortable sacrament of the Body and Blood of Christ; which being performed, the Doctor thought he saw a reversed gaiety and joy in his face; but it lasted not long, for his bodily infirmities soon returned. The next day he found Hooker apparently better, but lost in deep meditation, and upon asking the subject of his thoughts, Saravia received for answer, “ that he was meditating the number and the nature of the Angels, and their blessed obedience and order, without which peace could not be in heaven ; and oh! that it might be so on earth.” After which words, he said, “ I have lived to see this world is made up of perturbations; and I have been long preparing to leave it, and gathering comfort for the dreadful hour of making my account with God, which I now apprehend to be near : and though I have, by His grace, loved Him in my youth, and feared Him in mine age, and laboured to have a conscience void of offence to Him, and to all men; yet, if Thou, O LORD, be extreme to mark what I have done amiss, who can abide it? And, therefore, where I have failed, LORD, show mercy to me; for I plead not my righteousness, but the forgiveness of my unrighteousness, for His merits Who died to purchase pardon for penitent sinners. And since I owe Thee a death, Lord, let it not be terrible, and then take Thine own time; I submit to it. Let not mine, O LORD, but let Thy will be done !" After which he fell into a dangerous slumber, but recovering, said, God hath heard my daily petitions, for I am at peace with all men, and He is at peace with me; and from that blessed assurance I feel that inward joy which this world can neither give nor take from me: my conscience beareth me this witness, and this witness makes the thoughts of death joyful. I could wish to live to do the Church more service; but cannot hope it, for my days are past as a shadow that returns not.” More he would have spoken, but his spirits failed him; and, after a short conflict betwixt nature and death, a quiet sigh put a period to his last breath, and so he fell asleep. And now he seems to rest like Lazarus in Abraham's bosom.

Who that reads this short life of the venerable Hooker, will not thank God that He has blessed the Church of England with such sons, and gladly join in the prayer of good old Isaac Walton—*

In the mean time, bless, O Lord! Lord, bless his brethren, the Clergy of this nation, with effectual endeavours to attain, if not to his great learning, yet to his remarkable meekness, his godly simplicity, and his Christian moderation; for these will bring peace at the last! And, Lord, let his most excellent writings be blessed with what he designed, when he undertook them ; which was, glory to Thee, O God, on high, peace in Thy Church, and good-will to mankind! Amen, Amen.

* This life, it is almost needless to add, is condensed from that most delightful of biographers, Isaac Walton, whose quaint but expressive words have been used as far as possible.


The Clerk of Bishopsbourne was much attached to Hooker, an instance of which is thus given.

This parish-clerk lived till the third or fourth year of the late Long Parliament; betwixt which time and Mr. Hooker's death there had come many to see the place of his burial, and the monument dedicated to his memory by Sir William Cowper, who still lives; and the poor clerk had many rewards for showing Mr. Hooker's grave-place and his said monument, and did always hear Mr. Hooker mentioned with commendations and reverence; to all which he added his own knowledge and observations of his humility and holiness, and in all which discourses the poor man was still more confirmed in his opinion of Mr. Hooker's virtues and learning. But it so fell out, that about the said third or fourth year of the Long Parliament, the then present parson of Bourne was sequestered, (you may guess why,) and a Genevan minister put into his good living. This, and other like sequestrations, made the clerk express himself in a wonder, and say, “They had sequestered so many good men, that he doubted, if his good master Mr. Hooker had lived till now, they would have sequestered him too."

It was not long before this intruding minister had made a party in and about the said parish, that were desirous to receive the sacrament as in Geneva; to which end, the day was appointed for a select company, and forms and stools set about the altar or communion-table, for them to sit and eat and drink : but when they went about this work, there was a want of some joint stools, which the minister sent the clerk to fetch, and then to fetch cushions (but not to kneel upon). When the clerk saw them begin to sit down, he began to wonder; but the minister bade him cease wondering, and lock the Church-door;" to whom he replied, “ Pray, take you the keys, and lock me out; I will never come more into this Church ; for all men will say, my master, Hooker, was a good man, and a good scholar; and I am sure it was not used to be thus in his days :" and report says, the old man went home and died within a few days after. The following beautiful verses were written upon this subject by the late Rev. B. D. Winslow, M.A., whose remains are worthy an attentive perusal, since he is one of those who being dead, yet speak. Dark times! when sternest hearts But men arose to changes giv'n, might quail,

Scoffers at things divine, For hope seem'd lost, forsooth; And soon each holy spell was riv'n Yet faith there was too strong to fail That hung about that shrine, In hoary age and youth;

The handiwork of other days, Knight, prelate, monarch on his Time-hallow'd strains of prayer and throne

praise Such came-yet came not such alone, Their wonted place resign ; To do and die for truth;

And quiet faith and rev'rence flee, For honest names of low degree With decent pomp and liturgy. Were writ amid that company.

When next the old man sought the Some slowly sank in calm despair,

fane, Some perished on the block,

He found all alter'd there; Some stood amid rebellion's glare

For voices hymn'd a meaner strain, Like billow-beaten rock;

And breath'd a cheerless prayer. Some fell where war's grim shadows

And men had grown too proud to lower'd,

kneel And thick and fast the death-shots

To take salvation's sign and seal : shower'd;

And so, in calm despair, While broken with the shock

He turn'd away, and never more Were humbler hearts, round which

Darken'd the desecrated door. would cling Reverence to Church, and law, and king.

Where could he go for solace then?

His quiet household hearth, Such heart had he-that lowly man- His lov'd ones of the race of men His name unknown I ween;

Had pass'd away from earth : For meek and mild the course he ran, Rebellion made her rude abode As brook in forests green,

The place where all his joys had Whose very murmurs are unheard

flow'd, Save by some little woodland bird ; Home of his second birth. And in sequestered scene,

Back to his lonely cot he hied, Away from tumult, noise, and strife, Wept for the fallen Church - and He pass'd his unpretending life.

died. In early youth his little feet The sanctuary press'd,

Hour of a mighty empire's doom, And there in age his hours were

A monarch's overthrow, sweet,

A Church enwrapt in cheerless With cherish'd memories bless'd.

gloom, He lov'd the Church with order due,

And law and right laid low ! Altar and chancel, desk and pew,

And can an individual fate
And Priest in snowy vést:

Render the scene more desolate ?
He lov'd the prayers of his dear Go bid the ages know,

If ye would all its woe impart,
No better knew, nor ask'd for other.

The fate of such an honest heart.


There is to our mind a secret charm in the quaint old chronicles of other days. They appear to have been written with such devotion to their subjects, that, as we read, we seem to live and breathe in bygone ages, and to be actually participants in scenes so glowingly described. Hitherto comparatively few persons have been enabled to enjoy this luxury, as many, who have the learning, have not been able to find time for the perusal of monkish Latin, whilst to the majority of the people their writings have been sealed books. We hail, therefore, as a welcome boon this cheap and handsome book, which forms a part of Mr. Bohn's Antiquarian Library. Though we have long known some of these Chronicles, we have been very glad to peruse this translation of Dr. Giles, which appears in the main faithfully rendered. The volume in question contains the Chronicle of Ethelwerd, a descendant of King Alfred, and the only Latin historian for two centuries; the Life of good king Alfred by Asser, who was contemporary with the king, being at the time Bishop of S. David's, Sherborne, or Exeter; the works of Gildas; the History of the Britons, by Nennius and Geoffrey of Monmouth; and Richard of Cirencester on the Ancient State of Britain. As best calculated to interest our readers, we will make two extracts from the Life of Alfred, of whom we know by far too little. Asser thus describes


“In the meantime, the king, during the frequent wars and other trammels of this present life, the invasions of the pagans, and his own daily infirmities of body, continued to carry on the government, and to exercise hunting in all its branches; to teach his workers in gold and artificers of all kinds, his falconers, hawkers, and dogkeepers ; to build houses, majestic and good, beyond all the precedents of his ancestors, by his new mechanical inventions; to recite the Saxon books, and especially to learn by heart the Saxon poems, and to make others learn them; and he alone never desisted from studying, most diligently, to the best of his ability ; he attended the Eucharist and other daily services of religion ; he was frequent in psalm-singing and prayer, at the hours both of the day and the night. He also went to the churches, as we have already said, in the night time to pray, secretly and unknown to his courtiers ; he bestowed alms and largesses on both natives and foreigners of all countries ; he was affable and pleasant to all, and curiously eager to investigate things unknown. Many Franks, Frisons, Gauls, Pagans, Britons, Scots, and Armoricans, noble and ignoble, submitted voluntarily to his dominion ; and all of them, according to their nation and deserving, were ruled, loved, honoured, and enriched with money and power. Moreover, the king was in the habit of hearing the Divine Scriptures read by his own countrymen, or, if by any chance it so happened, in company with foreigners, and he attended to it with sedulity and solicitude.

His bishops, too, and all ecclesiastics, his earls and nobles, ministers and friends, were loved by him with wonderful affection, and their sons, who were bred up in the royal household, were no less dear to him than his own; he had them instructed in all kinds of good morals, and among other things, never ceased to

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