the real struggle commenced he sided with the Parliament, and suffered much from the vengeance of the Royalists.

He died in 1648, knowing, as he says in the epitaph which he wrote for himself,

'That his immortal soul should find above

With his Creator, peace, joy, truth and love.'

He was in his day no mean master of English, a truth-loving though somewhat sceptical philosopher, and a noble man; brave as a knight-errant, never taking gift or reward, and even 'from childhood,' as he says, 'never choosing to stain his mind with telling a lie.'

His autobiography (first printed in 1764), and his Life and Reign of King Henry the Eighth (published in 1649), both deserve to be better known than they are.

His Latin treatises on Natural Religion, etc., prove him, says Leland, 'the most eminent of Deistical writers.' His Occasional Poems, published in 1665, show that he (like his brother George Herbert, of Bemerton) had in him something of a poet's feeling. 'The well accorded birds did sing,

Their hymns unto the present time,
And in a sweet concerted chime,

Did welcome in the cheerful Spring.
To which soft whispers of the wind,

And warbling murmur of a brook,

And varied notes of leaves that shook,

A harmony of parts did bind.'

1. This Life and the Life to Come.

THE very furthest thing I remember is, that when I understood what was said by others, I did yet forbear to speak, lest I should utter something that were imperfect or impertinent. When I came to talk, one of the furthest inquiries I made was, how I came into this world? I told my nurse,

keeper, and others, I found myself here indeed, but from what cause or beginning, or by what means, I could not imagine; but for this, as I was laughed at by nurse and some other women that were then present, so I was wondered at by others, who said, they never heard a child but myself ask that question; upon which, when I came to riper years, I made this observation, which afterwards a little comforted me, that as I found myself in possession of this life, without knowing anything of the pangs and throes my mother suffered, when yet doubtless they did not less press and afflict me than her, so I hope my soul shall pass to a better life than this without being sensible of the anguish and pains my body shall feel in death. as I believe then I shall be transmitted to a more happy estate by God's great grace, I am confident I shall no more know how I came out of this world, than how I came into it. . . . .

For

And certainly, since in my mother's womb this plastica, or formatrix, which formed my eyes, ears, and other senses, did not intend them for that dark and noisome place, but, as being conscious of a better life, made them as fitting organs to apprehend and perceive those things which should occur in this world; so I believe, since my coming into this world my soul hath formed or produced certain faculties which are almost as useless for this life, as the above-named senses were for the mother's womb; and these faculties are hope, faith, love, and joy, since they never rest or fix upon any transitory or perishing object in this world, as extending themselves to something further than can be here given, and indeed acquiesce only in the perfect, eternal and infinite. I confess they are of some use here; yet I appeal to every body whether any worldly felicity did so satisfy their hope here, that they did not wish and hope

for something more excellent; or whether they had ever that faith in their own wisdom, or in the help of man, that they were not constrained to have recourse to some diviner and superior power than they could find on earth, to relieve them in their danger or necessity; whether ever they could place their love on any earthly beauty, that it did not fade and wither, if not frustrate or deceive them; or whether ever their joy was so consummate in any thing they delighted in, that they did not want much more than it, or indeed this world can afford, to make them happy. The proper objects of these faculties, therefore, though framed, or at least appearing in this world, is God only, upon whom faith, hope, and love were never placed in vain, or remain long unrequited. But to leave these discourses, and come to my childhood again; I remember this defluxion at my ears above-mentioned continued in that violence, that my friends did not think fit to teach me so much as my alphabet, till I was seven years old, at which time my defluxion ceased, and left me free of the disease my ancestors were subject unto, being the epilepsy. My schoolmaster, in the house of my said lady grandmother, then began to teach me the alphabet, and afterwards grammar, and other books commonly read in schools, in which I profited so much, that upon this theme Audaces fortuna juvat, I made an oration of a sheet of paper, and fifty or sixty verses in the space of one day. I remember in that time I was corrected sometimes for going to cuffs with two school-fellows, being both elder than myself, but never for telling a lie, or any other fault; my natural disposition and inclination being so contrary to all falsehood, that being demanded whether I had committed any fault whereof I might be justly suspected, I did use ever to confess it freely, and thereupon choosing rather

to suffer correction than to stain my mind with telling a lie, which I did judge then, no time could ever deface; and I can affirm to all the world truly, that from my first infancy to this hour I told not willingly any thing that was false, my soul naturally having an antipathy to lying and deceit.-Autobiography.

2. Wolsey.

Ar last the bishop (of Winchester) thinking how to better his party, brought in this Thomas Woolsey; to which purpose also Sir Thomas Lovell, Knight, and master of the wards, assisted him. This man, though of mean birth, being observed by them to be of a quick and stirring wit, and particularly famous for a dispatch in Henry VII. his time, wherein he used extraordinary diligence, was thought a fit instrument for their purposes. He was already a chaplain in the household, and almoner, and from thence raised to the place of a counsellor. Being in this nearness, he knew as well how to discourse with the king in matter of learning, (the king being much addicted to the reading of Thomas Aquinas) as to comply with him in his delights; insomuch, as (saith Polydore) he would sing, dance, laugh, jest, and play with those youths in whose attendance and company the king much delighted. Briefly, (to use Polydore's words) he made his private house a receptacle for pleasures of all kinds, where he frequently entertain'd the king. He omitted not yet in the midst of all these jollities, to speak seriously, representing so all businesses to the king, as he got much credit with him. And this, again, was confirm'd by those gallants, who contributed no little thereunto. Whereupon he began to tell the king, that he should sometimes follow his studies in school-divinity, and

sometimes take his pleasure, and leave the care of publick affairs to him: promising that what was amiss in his kingdom should be rectified. Likewise, he omitted not to infuse fears and jealousies of all those whom he conceived the king might affect. Whereby he became so perfect a courtier, that he had soon attained the height of favour. For as princes have arts to govern kingdoms, courtiers have those by which they govern their princes, when through any indisposition they grow unapt for affairs. These arts being hopes and fears, which as doors and passages to the heart, are so guarded by their vigilancy, that they can both let themselves in, and keep all others out and therefore may be termed not only the two ends of that thread upon which government depends, but through their dexterous handling may be tyed upon what knot they will.-Life and Reign of King Henry VIII.

3. The Foundation of Christ Church.

THE design for the college of Ipswich, was to erect only a grammar-school, to train up the youth till they were ready for the university; but that in Oxford (call'd first Cardinal's, then King's College, now Christ's Church) was nobler; for the building was intended most ample and magnificent, as the foundations and first lines demonstrate, the number of students, professors, etc. great; as appears by a catalogue found among our records. . .

...

I find also, that about 1524, he sought in Italy and elsewhere, for able men to be his readers. Among whom at this time the excellent John Ludovicus Vives (a Spaniard) was sent to him to be professor of eloquence in Oxford. And, for books, he sent to have the rarer sort copy'd out of the pope's library.