University, and desirous to prevent the like inconveniences hereafter, do, by these presents, authorise and command you, our chancellor, vice-chancellor, and caput senatus of our said University, and every of you, and the deputies and successors of you, and every of you, that at all times hereafter when as we shall be pleased to grant our letters or warrants mandatory or dispensatory for the admitting any person to any degree in our said University, that then you, and every of you, and the deputies and successors of you, and every of you, do utterly forbear to admit or create any such persons, until they and every of them have put in sufficient caution to the use of our University for the due keeping of all such exercises, and performing of such matters, as are required for their several degrees they desire by the statutes and customs of our said University, within such convenient time as you shall think fit, or his or their occasions (if any of them shall be employed in our service) will permit. These our letters shall be your sufficient warrant, any command or authority to be hereafter granted to the contrary notwithstanding.

Given under our signet, at our court in Trinity College in Cambridge, the 17th day of December, in the 22nd yeare of our reign of England, France, and Ireland, and of Scotland the 58th

Royal Letters. Univ. Stat. p. 287. 17 Dec. 22 Ja. I. See the original MS. in the University Archives, fol. 64.

GRACE OF THE SENATE.

Apr. 8, 1625.

CUM piæ memoriæ serenissimus rex Jacobus, qui innumeris et in æternum recolendis beneficiis academiam nostram beaverit, misericordia divina ad regnum cœleste sit evectus:

Placet vobis, ut perpetuis temporibus futuris is qui quarta dominica quadragesimæ antemeridiem sit concionaturus solenni more gratias Deo agat, tam de maturo et felici dicti serenissimi regis ab hac vita decessu, quam de memorabilibus illis beneficiis quibus ex Jacobi benignitate nos fruimur et successores nostri sunt fruituri; et ut hæc vestra concessio loco statuti habeatur, et in libris procuratorum infra decem dies inscribatur.

EXTRACTS FROM MR. MEAD'S LETTERS.

[From MS. Harl. no. 389, fol. 428.]

23 April, 1625.

DR. RICHARDSON dyed on Wednesday morning, about 9 a clock: he was in his sicknes so stupid, that he seemed to give no entertainment to those that came to do him offices of pietie in that case; was hardly gotten, after much urging, to answere those who spake unto him concerning his faith, and asking forgivenes of such as he had wronged, and then sayd no more but, I, I. Yet when they asked him about an election of schollers, which was to be at that time, he rouzed himselfe, and spake to purpose, walking the length of his chamber without holding, etc. I heard it of one present, that went with others to do him that charitable office upon Munday. They gott him on Saturday to make a will, but with some adoe firste. He bequeathed his land, being a 1001i. a yeare, with all the furniture and plate at Linton, to a nephew whose father was dead. He gave the colledg 3001, and 20 of the seniors 40s a piece for a ring. They say 201 to Peterhouse, and all his folio bookes to Emmanuel. Old Harry but 101.

All the rest he gave his brother, whom he made executor, which was 400. in gold, and a bag of silver found in

his study, and a morgage valued at 1800, with all the furniture and plate at Trinitie Colledg, and the remainder of 6001i. he had lent the colledg when the other legacies are taken out.

I know not yet who wilbe their master; it is in the kings sole power to bestow: there are many competitors; but thought it will go between Dr. Lucie (whose wife is dead) and Dr. Preston, a man in speciall favour with the king.

For Mr. John, I will take order (if you send money) that his gowne shalbe suitable every way to his condition. But I must desire you to give him a 11s in his purse to pay for his admission, 10s to the colledg, and the lecturer 12d, that I may keep my promise, that it should never be payd out of hand, for this is all left me to have my will in. For John Higham, I find him of nature ingenuous, facile, and applyable, and, as far as I can guesse, in more danger thereby to receive hurt from others than himselfe to corrupt any. He hath bin drawn into some companie since he came [by Mr. Power and a favourite pupill of his; you see our miserie], which I liked not. But (that I know) he fell into no miscarriage, and was as willing to confesse and ask pardon for his offending, as I was ready to charge him; and, as farre as I think, carefull not to offend the second time. But your intimation shall encrease my care and watchfulnes, and then I think there wilbe no danger in their companying together. For chamber, the best I have in my power, that John Higham sleeps in, hath 4 studies, and neere me; and I had thought to have devised some change, that they might keep together, otherwise I must dispose of your son in the new building, where I have a study voyd in one of the best chambers. [The new building hath but 2 studies in chamber, and 2 beds.] But a master of art is the chamber fellow; he makes it thereby inconvenient for my use. I have no way but to sett one of my batchelors (March), who

keepes in the same building, to keep with the master of art, and let yours have use of his study, though it be not in so good a chamber. For bedding we shall make a shift perhaps, for a week, till we know better what is needfull. If he sleeps in the new building, he must have a whole bedding, because he lyes alone; if in another chamber, where he hath a bedfellow, they must make a bed between them, and his part wilbe more or lesse, according as his bedfellow is furnished.

rate.

7 May, 1625. (Fol. 438.)

You tell me newes that much perplexes me. I suppose that disordered shopkeeper occasioned also that which your son confessed to you of his once miscarrying at the parsonage, whereby I feare they have bin too long acquainted. If I had knowne this sooner (as I enquired), I should have refused to admitt him; for we have much adoe to keep those who come free, from learning ill here; but if they were corrupted before they came, the case is almost despeHis father is not onely to blame in what you speak of, but also in that he cares not how long he keepes him at home, to runne up and downe idle. It cost me some trouble to read to him almost alone, by reason of his long stay after admission. Yet his father would need have had him home in Lent, to make me a new busines; and though I gave expresse charge he should now returne, as soone as Easter week was past, yet I heare not of him after a fortnight. I would faine know how I should so acquaint his father of this misorder, that he may not suspect whence I had my information. I placed him in the most convenient chamber I have to dispose of, nor can I otherwise place your son with halfe the like convenience or his owne contentment in any other chamber in the colledg, it being the next unto me. And if this disorder continue, my best remedie is to give his father full leave to keep him at home

altogether, or to dispose of him other where. I have not shown so much kindness unto any pupill I have; and if this be the meritt of it, I see it was ill bestowed.

2 July, 1625. (Fol. 470 v.)

Our faith is broken up, and yet (thanks be to God) we heare nothing of the plague; God grant we may not! but we are fearefull till the full moone be past.

On Munday, Durrant, the tanners son, kild a man cowardly and basely, in revenge of being a witnes in some sute or controversie, first against his father deceased, and since brought to confirm it against the son, who had bin watching and seeking for him to act this villanie, when at length having unhappily found him, the fellow suspecting his intent upon former threats, and unprovided to resist as having no weapon, made hast to gett into a house neere Queenes Colledg, but not able to open the dore sone enough, Durrant stabd him in the brest on the left side, and then tumbling him dead into the house gave him 6 woundes more. When he had done, he betook him to his owne house, which he maintained awhile against the mayor and officers, with muskets, etc., but at length was taken by a strategeme, and remaines unpenitent in prison, onely greived that he killed but one man. He is a recusant. The fellow kild dwelt about Huntingdon, and upon even termes would have made his part good.

The same night a woman in little St. Maries, at the same end of the towne, cutt hir throat, whereof she dyed on Thursday night.

On Wednesday, after supper, Sir Tho. Granthams son and heire, of St. Johns Colledg, some 13 yeares of age, as he was running after a ball without their tennis court ht himself into the river. His play-fellowes missing him, went . . . . . . and found him at length drowned at a ditch mouth falling into the river; and crying to a boteman