Chapter III: Front Matter (3)

His single misfortune was (which indeede was productive of many greater) that he never made a noble and a worthy frendshipp with a man so neere his æquall, that he would frankely advize him, for his honour and true interest, against the current, or rather the torrent of his impetuous passyons: which was partly the vice of the tyme, when the Courte was not replenished with greate choyce of excellent men, and partly the vice of the persons, who were most worthy to be applyed to, and looked upon his youth, and his obscurity, as obligations upon him, to gayne ther frendshipps by extraordinary application; then his ascent was so quicke, that it seemed rather a flight, then a growth, and he was such a darlinge of fortune, that he was at the topp, before he was seene at the bottome, for the gradation of his titles, was the effecte, not cause of his first promotion, and as if he had bene borne a favorite, he was supreme the first moneth he came to courte, and it was wante of confidence, not of creditt, that he had not all at first, which he obtayned afterwards, never meetinge with the least obstruction, from his settinge out, till he was as greate as he could be, so that he wanted dependants, before he thought he could wante coadjutors; nor was he very fortunate in the election of those dependants, very few of his servants havinge bene ever qualifyed enough to assiste or advize him, and were intente only upon growinge rich under [him], not upon ther masters growinge good as well as greate, insomuch as he was throughout his fortune, a much wiser man, then any servant or frende he had: Lett the faulte or misfortune be what and whence it will, it may very reasonably be believed that if he had bene blessed with one faythfull frende, who had bene qualifyed with wisdome and integrity, that greate person would have committed as few faults, and done as transcendant worthy actions, as any man who shyned in such a sphere in that age, in Europe, for he was of an excellent nature, and of a capacity very capable of advice and councell; he was in his nature just and candid, liberall, generous, and bountifull, nor was it ever knowne that the temptation of money swayed him to do an unjust, or unkinde thinge, and though he left a very greate inheritance to his heyres, consideringe the vast fortune he inherited by his wife (the sole daughter and Heyre of Francis Earle of Rutlande,) he owed no parte of it to his owne industry or sollicitation, but to the impatient humour of two kings his masters, who would make his fortune æquall to his titles, and the one above other men, as the other was, and he considered it no otherwise then as thers, and left it at his death ingaged for the crowne, almost to the valew of it, as is touched upon before. If he had an immoderate ambition, with which he was charged, and is a weede (if it be a weede) apt to grow in the best soyles, it does not appeare that it was in his nature, or that he brought it with him to the Courte, but rather founde it ther, and was a garment necessary for that ayre; nor was it more in his power to be without promotion, and titles, and wealth, then for a healthy man to sitt in the sunn, in the brightest dogge dayes, and remayne without any warmth: he needed no ambition who was so seated in the hartes of two such masters.

4.

SIR THOMAS COVENTRY.

_Solicitor-General 1617. Attorney-General 1621. Lord Keeper 1625. Created Baron Coventry 1628. Born 1578. Died 1640_.

By CLARENDON.

S'r Thomas Coventry was then L'd Keeper of the Greate Seale of England, and newly made a Barron. He was a Sunn of the Robe, his father havinge bene a Judge in the courte of the Common pleas, who tooke greate care to breede his Sunn, though his first borne, in the Study of the common law, by which himselfe had bene promoted to that degree, and in which, in the society of the Inner Temple, his Sunn made a notable progresse, by an early eminence in practice and learninge, insomuch as he was Recorder of London, Sollicitor generall, and Kings Atturny before he was forty yeeres of age, a rare ascent, all which offices he discharged, with greate abilityes, and singular reputation of integrity: In the first yeere after the death of Kinge James, he was advanced to be Keeper of the Greate Scale of Englande, the naturall advancement from, the office of Atturny Generall, upon the remoovall of the Bishopp of Lincolne, who though a man of greate witt, and good scholastique learninge, was generally thought so very unæquall to the place that his remoove was the only recompence and satisfaction that could be made for his promotion, and yett it was enough knowne, that the disgrace proceeded only from the pri[v]ate displeasure of the Duke of Buckingham[1]: The L'd Coventry injoyed this place with a universall reputation (and sure justice was never better administred) for the space of aboute sixteen yeeres, even to his death, some months before he was sixty yeeres of age, which was another importante circumstance of his felicity: that greate office beinge so slippery, that no man had dyed in it before, for neere the space of forty yeeres, nor had his successors for some tyme after him much better fortune: and he himselfe had use of all his strenght and skill (as he was an excellent wrastler) to præserve himselfe from fallinge, in two shockes, the one given him by the Earle of Portlande, L'd High Treasurer of Englande, the other by the Marq's of Hambleton, who had the greatest power over the affections of the Kinge, of any man of that tyme.

He was a man of wounderfull gravity and wisdome, and understood not only the whole science and mistery of the Law, at least æqually with any man who had ever sate in that place, but had a cleere conception of the whole policy of the government both of Church and State, which by the unskilfulnesse of some well meaninge men, justled each the other to much. He knew the temper, and disposition and genius of the kingdome most exactly, saw ther spiritts grow every day more sturdy, and inquisitive, and impatient, and therfore naturally abhorred all innovations, which he foresaw would produce ruinous effects: yett many who stoode at a distance thought that he was not active and stoute enough in the opposinge those innovations, for though by his place he præsided in all publique councells, and was most sharpe sighted in the consequence of things, yett he was seldome knowne to speake in matters of state, which he well knew were for the most parte concluded, before they were brought to that publique agitation, never in forrainge affayres, which the vigour of his judgement could well comprehende, nor indeede freely in any thinge, but what immediately and playnely concerned the justice of the kingdome, and in that as much as he could, he procured references to the Judges. Though in his nature he had not only a firme gravity, but a severity, and even some morosity (which his children and domestiques had evidence enough of) [yet][2] it was so happily tempred, that his courtesy and affability towards all men was so transcended, so much without affectation, that it marvellously reconciled [him] to all men of all degrees, and he was looked upon as an excellent courtyer, without receadinge from the native simplicity of his owne manner. He had in the playne way of speakinge and delivery (without much ornament of eloqution) a strange power of makinge himselfe believed (the only justifiable designe of eloquence) so that though he used very frankely to deny, and would never suffer any man to departe from him, with an opinion that he was inclined to gratify when in truth he was not, (holdinge that dissimulation to be the worst of lyinge) yett the manner of it was so gentle and oblieginge, and his condescension such, to informe the persons, who[m] he could not satisfy, that few departed from him, with ill will and ill wishes; but then this happy temper, and these good facultyes, rather præserved him from havinge many enimyes, and supplyed him with some well-wishers, then furnished him with any fast and unshaken frends, who are alwayes procured in courtes by more ardour, and more vehement professions and applications, then he would suffer himselfe to be entangled with; so that he was a man rather exceedingly liked, then passionately loved, insomuch that it never appeared, that he had any one frende in the Courte, of quality enough to prævent or diverte any disadvantage he mighte be exposed to, and therfore it is no wonder, nor to be imputed to him, that he retyred within himselfe as much as he could, and stood upon his defence, without makinge desperate sallyes against growinge mischieves, which he knew well he had no power to hinder, and which might probably begin in his owne ruine: to conclude, his security consisted very much, in the little creditt he had with the Kinge, and he dyed in a season most opportune, and in which a wise man would have prayed to have finished his cource, and which in truth crowned his other signall prosperity in this worlde.

[Footnote 1: 'Buckinghman', MS.]

[Footnote 2: 'but', MS.]

5.

SIR RICHARD WESTON.

_Chancellor of the Exchequer 1621. Lord Treasurer 1628. Baron Weston 1628, and Earl of Portland 1633._

_Born 1577. Died 1635._

By CLARENDON.

S'r Richard Weston had bene advanced to the white staffe, to the office of L'd High Treasurer of England, some moneths before the death of the Duke of Buckingham, and had in that shorte tyme so much disoblieged him, at least disappointed his exspectation, that many who were privy to the Dukes most secrett purposes, did believe that if he had outlived that voyage, in which he was ingaged, he would have remooved him, and made another Treasurer: and it is very true that greate office to had bene very slippery, and not fast to those who had trusted themselves in it, insomuch as there were at that tyme five noble persons alive, who had all succeded on another immediately in that unsteady charge, without any other person interveninge, the Earle of Suffolke, the L'd Viscount Mandevill, afterwards Earle of Manchester, the Earle of Middlesex, and the Earle of Marleborough, who was remooved under prætence of his age, and disability for the work (which had bene a better reason against his promotion, so few yeeres before, that his infirmityes were very little increased) to make roome for the present Officer, who though advanced by the Duke, may properly be sayd to be establish'd by his death.

He was a gentleman of a very good and auncient extraction, by father and mother; his education had bene very good, amongst bookes and men. After some yeeres study of the law in the Middle temple, and at an age fitt to make observations and reflexions, out of which that which is commonly called exsperience is constituted, he travelled into forrainge partes, and was acquainted in forrainge partes;[1] he betooke himselfe to the courte, and lyved ther some yeeres at that distance, and with that awe, as[2] was agreable to the modesty of that age, when men were seene some tyme, before they were knowne, and well knowne before they were præferred, or durst prætende to be præferred. He spent the best parte of his fortune, a fayre on, that he inherited from his father, in his attendance at courte, and involved his frends in securityes with him, who were willinge to runn his hopefull fortune, before he receaved the least fruite from it, but the countenance of greate men, and those in authority, the most naturall, and most certayne stayres to ascende by: He was then sent Ambassadour to the Arch-Dukes Alberte and Isabella into Flanders, and to the Diett in Germany, to treate aboute the restitution of the Palatinat, in which negotiation he behaved himselfe with greate prudence, and with the concurrent testimony of a wise man, from all those with whome he treated, Princes and Ambassadours: and upon his returne was made a Privy Councellour, and Chauncelour of the Exchequer, in the place of the L'd Brooke, who was ether perswaded, or putt out of the place, which beinge an office of honour and trust, is likewise an excellent stage for men of parts to tread, and expose themselfes upon, and wher they have occasion of all natures to lay out and spredd all ther facultyes and qualifications most for ther advantage; He behaved himselfe very well in this function, and appeared æquall to it, and carryed himselfe so luckily in Parliament, that he did his master much service, and præserved himselfe in the good opinion and acceptation of the house, which is a blessinge not indulged to many by those high powers: He did swimme in those troubled and boysterous waters, in which the Duke of Buckingham rode as Admirall, with a good grace, when very many who were aboute him, were drowned or forced on shore, with shrewde hurtes and bruises, which shewed he knew well how and when to use his limbes and strenght to the best advantage, sometimes only to avoyde sinkinge, and sometymes to advance and gett grounde; and by this dexterity he kept his creditt with those who could do him good, and lost it not with others, who desyred the destruction of those upon whome he most depended.

He was made L'd Treasurer in the manner, and at the tyme mentioned before, upon the remoovall of the Earle of Marleborough, and few moneths before the death of the Duke; the former circumstance, which is often attended by compassion towards the degraded, and præjudice toward the promoted, brought him no disadvantage, for besydes the delight that season had in changes, there was little reverence towards the person remooved, and the extreme, visible poverty of the Exchequer sheltered that Provence from the envy it had frequently created, and opened a doore for much applause to be the portion of a wise and provident Minister: For the other of the Dukes death, though some who knew the Dukes passyons and præjudice (which often produced rather suddayne indisposition, then obstinate resolution) believed he would have bene shortly cashiered, as so many had lately bene, and so that the death of his founder, was a greater confirmation of him in the office, then the delivery of the white staffe had bene, many other wise men, who knew the Treasurers talent, in remoovinge præjudice and reconcilinge himselfe to waveringe and doubtfull affections, believed that the losse of the Duke was very unseasonable, and that the awe or apprehension of his power and displeasure, was a very necessary allay for the impetuosity of the new officers nature, which needed some restrainte and checque for some tyme to his immoderate prætences and appetite of power. He did indeede appeare on the suddayne wounderfully elated, and so farr threw off his olde affectation to please some very much, and to displease none, in which arte he had excelled, that in few moneths after the Dukes death, he founde himselfe to succeede him in the publique displeasure, and in the malice of his enimyes, without succeedinge him in his creditt at courte, or in the affection of any considerable dependants; and yett, though he was not superiour to all other men, in the affection, or rather resignation of the Kinge, so that he might dispence favours and disfavours accordinge to his owne election, he had a full share in his masters esteeme, who looked upon him as a wise and able servant and worthy of the trust he reposed in him, and receaved no other advice in the large businesse of his revennue, nor was any man so much his superiour, as to be able to lessen him in the Kings affection, by his power; so that he was in a post in which he might have founde much ease and delight, if he could have contayned himselfe within the verge of his owne Provence, which was large enough, and of such an extente, that he might at the same tyme have drawne a greate dependance upon him of very considerable men, and appeared a very usefull and profitable Minister to the Kinge, whose revennue had bene very loosely managed duringe the late yeeres, and might by industry and order have bene easily improoved, and no man better understoode what methode was necessary towards that good husbandry then he. But I know not by what frowardnesse in his starres, he tooke more paynes in examininge and enquiringe into other mens offices, then in the discharge of his owne, and not so much joy in what he had, as trouble and agony for what he had not. The truth is, he had so vehement a desyre to be the sole favorite, that he had no relish of the power he had, and in that contention he had many ryvalls, who had creditt enough to do him ill offices, though not enough to satisfy ther owne ambition, the Kinge himselfe beinge resolved to hold the raynes in his owne handes, and to putt no further trust in others, then was necessary for the capacity they served in: which resolution in his Majesty was no sooner believed, and the Treasurers prsetence taken notice,[3] then he founde the number of his enimyes exceedingly increased, and others to be lesse eager in the pursuite of his frendshipp; and every day discovered some infirmityes in him, which beinge before knowne to few, and not taken notice,[3] did now expose him both to publique reproch, and to private animosityes, and even his vices admitted those contradictions in them, that he could hardly injoy the pleasante fruite of any of them. That which first exposed him to the publique jealosy, which is alwayes attended with publique reproch, was the concurrent suspicion of his religion. His wife and all his daughters were declared of the Roman religion, and though himselfe and his Sunns sometimes went to church, he was never thought to have zeale for it, and his domestique conversation and dependants, with whome only he used intire freedome, were all knowne Catholiques, and were believed to be agents for the rest; and yett with all this disadvantage to himselfe, he never had reputation and creditt with that party, who were the only people of the kingdome, who did not believe him to be of ther profession, for the penall lawes (those only excepted, which were sanguinary, and even those sometimes lett loose) were never more rigidly executed, nor had the Crovme ever so greate a revennue from them, as in his tyme, nor did they ever pay so deere for the favours and indulgencyes of his office towards them.

No man had greater ambition to make his family greate, or stronger designes to leave a greate fortune to it, yett his exspences were so prodigiously greate, especially in his house, that all the wayes he used for supply, which were all that occurred, could not serve his turne, insomuch that he contracted so greate debts, (the anxiety wherof he prætended broke his minde, and restrayned that intentnesse and industry which was necessary for the dew execution of his office) that the Kinge was pleased twice to pay his debts, at least towards it, to disburse forty thousande pounde in ready mony out of his Exchequer; besydes his Majesty gave him a whole forrest, Chute forrest in Hampshyre, and much other lande belonginge to the Crowne, which was the more taken notice of, and murmured against, because beinge the chiefe Minister of the revennue, he was particularly oblieged as much as in him lay to prævent and even oppose such disinherison; and because under that obligation, he had avowedly and sowrely crossed the prætences of other men, and restrayned the Kings bounty from beinge exercised almost to any; and he had that advantage (if he had made the right use of it) that his creditt was ample enough (secounded by the Kings owne exsperience, and observation, and inclination) to retrench very much of the late unlimited exspences, and especially those of bountyes, which from the death of the Duke, rann in narrow channells, which never so much overflowed as towards himselfe; who stopped the current to other men.

He was of an imperious nature, and nothinge wary in disoblieginge and provokinge other men, and had to much courage in offendinge and incensinge them, but after havinge offended and incensed them, he was of so unhappy a feminine temper that he was always in a terrible fright and apprehension of them. He had not that application, and submissyon and reverence for the Queene as might have bene exspected from his wisdome and breedinge, and often crossed her prætences and desyres, with more rudenesse then was naturall to him; yett he was impertinently sollicitous to know what her Majesty sayd of him in private, and what resentments shee had towards him; and when by some confidents (who had ther ends upon him from those offices) he was informed of some bitter exspressions fallen from her Majesty, he was so exceedingly afflicted and tormented with the sense of it, that sometimes by passionate complaints and representations to the Kinge, sometimes by more dutifull addresses and expostulations with the Queene in bewaylinge his misfortunes, he frequently exposed himselfe, and left his condition worse then it was before: and the eclarcicement commonly ended in the discovery of the persons from whome he had received his most secrett intelligence. He quickly lost the character of a bold, stoute, and magnanimous man, which he had bene longe reputed to be, in worse tymes, and in his most prosperous season, fell under the reproch of beinge a man of bigg lookes, and of a meane and abjecte spiritt....

To conclude, all the honours the Kinge conferred upon him, as he made him a Barren, then an Earle, and Knight of the Gartar, and above this, gave a younge, beautifull Lady, neerely allyed to him and to the Crowne of Scotlande, in marriage to his eldest Sunn, could not make him thinke himselfe greate enough; nor could all the Kings bountyes nor his owne large accessions, rayse a fortune to his Heyre, but after six or eight yeeres spent in outward opulency, and inward murmur and trouble, that it was no greater, after vast summes of mony and greate wealth gotten and rather consumed then injoyed, without any sense or delight in so greate prosperity, with the agony that it was no greater, He dyed unlamented by any, bitterly mentioned by most, who never pretended to love him, and sevearely censured and complayned of, by those who exspected most from him, and deserved best of him, and left a numerous family, which was in a shorte tyme worne out, and yett outlyved the fortune he left behinde him.

[Footnote 1: In the MS. the words 'he travelled into forrainge parts' occur after 'Middle temple', as well as after 'constituted'. The whole sentence is faulty. 'After this' is inserted in the edition of 1702 before 'he betooke'.]

[Footnote 2: 'as' inserted in late hand in MS. in place of 'and'.]

[Footnote 3: 'off' added in later hand in MS.; 'notice of', ll. 2, 6, ed. 1704.]

6.

THE EARL OF ARUNDEL.

_Thomas Howard, fourteenth Earl of Arundel._

_Born 1586. Died 1646._

By CLARENDON.

The Earle of Arrundell was the next to the officers of State, who in his owne right and quality, præceded the rest of the councell. He was a man supercilious and prowde, who lyved alwayes within himselfe, and to himselfe, conversinge little with any, who were in common conversation, so that he seemed to lyve as it were in another nation, his house beinge a place, to which all men resorted, who resorted to no other place, strangers, or such who affected to looke like strangers, and dressed themselves accordingly. He resorted sometimes to the Courte, because ther only was a greater man then himselfe, and went thither the seldomer, because ther was a greater man then himselfe. He lived toward all Favorites and greate officers without any kinde of condescention, and rather suffred himselfe to be ill treated by ther power and authority (for he was alwayes in disgrace, and once or twice prysoner in the tower) then to descende in makinge any application to them; and upon these occasyons, he spent a greate intervall of his tyme, in severall journyes into forrainge partes, and with his wife and family had lyved some yeeres in Italy, the humour and manners of which nation he seemed most to like and approve, and affected to imitate. He had a good fortune by descent, and a much greater from his wife, who was the sole daughter upon the matter (for nether of the two Sisters left any issue) of the greate house of Shrewsbury, but his exspences were without any measure, and alwayes exceeded very much his revennue. He was willinge to be thought a scholar, and to understande the most misterious partes of Antiquity, because he made a wounderfull and costly purchase of excellent statues whilst he was in Italy and in Rome (some wherof he could never obtayne permission to remoove from Rome, though he had payd for them) and had a rare collection of the most curious Medalls; wheras in truth he was only able to buy them, never to understande ihem, and as to all partes of learninge he was almost illiterate, and thought no other parte of history considerable, but what related to his owne family, in which no doubt ther had bene some very memorable persons.

It cannot be denyed, that he had in his person, in his aspecte and countenance, the appearance of a greate man, which he preserved in his gate and motion. He wore and affected a habitt very different from that of the tyme, such as men had only beheld in the pictures of the most considerable men, all which drew the eyes of most and the reverence of many towards him, as the image and representative of the primitive nobility, and natife gravity of the nobles, when they had bene most venerable. But this was only his outsyde, his nature and true humour beinge so much disposed to levity, and vulgar delights, which indeede were very despicable and childish: He was never suspected to love anybody, nor to have the least propensity to justice, charity, or compassion, so that, though he gott all he could, and by all the wayes he could, and spent much more then he gott or had, he was never knowne to give any thinge, nor in all his imployments (for he had imployments of greate profitt as well as honour, beinge sent Ambassadour extraordinary into Germany, for the treaty of that Generall peace, for which he had greate appointments, and in which he did nothinge of the least importance, and which is more wounderfull, he was afterwards made Generall of the Army raysed for Scotlande, and receaved full pay as such, and in his owne office of Earle Marshall, more money was drawne from the people by his authority and prætence of jurisdiction, then had ever bene extorted by all the officers præcedent) yett I say in all his offices and imployments, never man used, or imployed by him, ever gott any fortune under him, nor did ever any man acknowledge any obligation to him. He was rather thought to be without religion, then to inclyne to this or that party of any. He would have bene a proper instrument for any tyranny, if he could have a man tyrant enough to have bene advized by him, and had no other affection for the nation or the kingdome, then as he had a greate share in it, in which like the greate Leviathan he might sporte himselfe, from which he withdrew himselfe, as soone as he decerned the repose therof was like to be disturbed, and dyed in Italy, under the same doubtfull character of religion, in which he lyved.

7.

THE EARL OF PEMBROKE.

_William Herbert, third Earl of Pembroke._

_Born 1580. Died 1630._

By CLARENDON.

Willyam Earle of Pembroke was next, a man of another molde and makinge, and of another fame and reputation with all men, beinge the most universally loved and esteemed, of any man of that age, and havinge a greate office in the courte, made the courte itselfe better esteemed and more reverenced in the country; and as he had a greate number of frends of the best men, so no man had ever wickednesse to avow himselfe to be his enimy. He was a man very well bredd, and of excellent partes, and a gracefull speaker upon any subjecte, havinge a good proportion of learninge, and a ready witt to apply it, and inlarge upon it, of a pleasant and facetious humour and a disposition affable, generous, and magnificent; he was master of a greate fortune from his auncestors, and had a greate addition by his wife (another daughter and heyre of the Earle of Shrewsbury) which he injoyed duringe his life, shee outlivinge him, but all served not his exspence, which was only limited by his greate minde, and occasions to use it nobly; he lyved many yeeres aboute the courte, before in it, and never by it, beinge rather regarded and esteemed by Kinge James then loved and favored, and after the fowle fall of the Earle of Somersett, he was made L'd Chamberlyne of the Kings house more for the Courtes sake, then his owne, and the Courte appeared with the more lustre, because he had the goverment of that Province. As he spente and lived upon his owne fortune, so he stoode upon his owne feete, without any other supporte then of his proper virtue and meritt, and lyved towards the favorites with that decency, as would not suffer them to censure or reproch his Masters judgement and election, but as with men of his owne ranke. He was exceedingly beloved in the Courte, because he never desyred to gett that for himselfe, which others labored for, but was still ready to promote the prætences of worthy men, and he was equally celebrated in the country, for havinge receaved no obligations from the courte, which might corrupt or sway his affections and judgement; so that all who were displeased and unsatisfyed in the courte or with the Courte, were alwayes inclined to putt themselves under his banner, if he would have admitted them, and yett he did not so rejecte them, as to make them choose another shelter, but so farr to depende on him, that he could restrayn them from breakinge out beyounde private resentments, and murmurs. He was a greate lover of his country, and of the religion and justice which he believed could only supporte it, and his frendshipps were only with men of those principles; and as his conversation was most with men of the most pregnant parts and understandinge, so towards any who needed supporte or encouragement, though unknowne, if fayrely recommended to him, he was very liberall; and sure never man was planted in a courte, that was fitter for that soyle, or brought better qualityes with him to purify that heyre.

Yett his memory must not be so flattered, that his virtues and good inclinations may be believed without some allay of vice, and without beinge clowded with greate infirmityes, which he had in to exorbitant a proportion: He indulged to himselfe the pleasures of all kindes, almost in all excesses; whether out of his naturall constitution, or for wante of his domestique content and delight (in which he was most unhappy, for he payed much to deere for his wife's fortune, by takinge her person into the bargayne) he was immoderately given up to women,[1] but therin he likewise retayned such a pouer and jurisdiction over his very appetite, that he was not so much transported with beauty and outwarde allurements, as with those advantages of the minde, as manifested an extraordinary witt, and spirit, and knowledge, and administred greate pleasure in the conversation; to these he sacrificed himselfe, his pretious tyme, and much of his fortune, and some who were neerest his trust and frendshipp, were not without apprehension that his naturall vivacity, and vigour of minde, begann to lessen and decline, by those excessive indulgences. Aboute the tyme of the death of Kinge James or presently after, he was made L'd Steward of his Majestys house, that the Staffe of Chamberlyne might be putt into the hands of his brother, the Earle of Mountgomery, upon a new contracte of frendshipp with the Duke of Buckingham, after whose death he had likewise such offices of his, as he most affected, of honour and commaunde, none of profitt, which he cared not for; and within two yeeres after he dyed himselfe, of an Apoplexy, after a full and cheerefull supper.

[Footnote 1: The words 'to women' occur twice in the MS., before 'whether out' and after 'given up'.]

8.

SIR FRANCIS BACON.

_Lord Keeper 1617. Lord Chancellor 1618. Baron Verulam 1618, and Viscount St. Albans 1621._

_Born 1561. Died 1626._

By BEN JONSON.

[Sidenote: _Dominis Verulanus._]

_One_, though hee be excellent, and the chiefe, is not to bee imitated alone. For never no Imitator, ever grew up to his _Author_; likenesse is alwayes on this side Truth: Yet there hapn'd, in my time, one noble _Speaker_, who was full of gravity in his speaking. His language, (where hee could spare, or passe by a jest) was nobly _censorious_. No man ever spake more neatly, more presly, more weightily, or suffer'd lesse emptinesse, lesse idlenesse, in what hee utter'd. No member of his speech, but consisted of the owne graces: His hearers could not cough, or looke aside from him, without losse. Hee commanded where hee spoke; and had his Judges angry, and pleased at his devotion. No man had their affections more in his power. The feare of every man that heard him, was, lest hee should make an end.

9.

By ARTHUR WILSON.

Not long after comes the great _Lord Chancellor Bacon_ to a _Censure_, for the most _simple_, and _ridiculous follies_, that ever entred into the _heart_ of a _Wise man_. He was the true _Emblem_ of _humane frailty_, being _more_ than _a man_ in some things, and less than a _woman_ in others. His _crime_ was _Briberie_, and _Extortion_ (which the King hinted at in his Speech, when he _facetiously_ sayd, _He thought the Lords had bribed the Prince to speak well of them_) and these he had often condemned others for as a _Judge_, which now he comes to suffer for as a _Delinquent_: And they were proved, & aggravated against him with so many _circumstances_, that they fell very _fouly_ on him, both in _relation_ to his _Reception_ of them, and his expending of them: For that which he raked in, and scrued for one way, he scattered and threw abroad another; for his Servants, being young, prodigall and expensive Youths, which he kept about him, his Treasure was their common Store, which they took without stint, having free accesse to his most retired Privacies; and his indulgence to them, and familiarity with them, opened a _gap_ to infamous _Reports_, which left an unsavoury _Tincture_ on him; for where such _Leeches_ are, there must be _putrid bloud_ to fill their _craving Appetites_. His _gettings_ were like a _Prince_, with a strong hand; his _expences_ like a _Prodigall_, with a weak head; and 'tis a wonder a man of his Noble, and Gallant Parts, that could fly so high above _Reason_, should fall so far below it; unlesse that _Spirit_ that _acted_ the first, were too proud to stoop, to see the _deformities_ of the last. And as he affected his men, so his Wife affected hers: Seldome doth the Husband deviate one way, but the Wife goeth another. These things came into the _publique mouth_, and the _Genius_ of the _Times_ (where _malice_ is not _corrivall_) is the great _Dictator_ of all _Actions_: For _innocency_ it self is a _crime_, when _calumny_ sets her mark upon it. How prudent therefore ought men to be, that not so much as their _garments_ be defiled with the _sour breath_ of the _Times_!

This poor _Gentleman_, mounted above _pity_, fell down below it: His _Tongue_, that was the glory of his time for _Eloquence_, (that tuned so many sweet _Harrangues_) was like a forsaken _Harp_, hung upon the _Willows_, whilst the _waters_ of _affliction_ overflowed the _banks_. And now his high-flying _Orations_ are humbled to _Supplications_,...

* * * * *

He was of a _middling stature_, his countenance had in-dented with _Age_ before he was old; his _Presence_ grave and comely; of a high-flying and lively _Wit_, striving in some things to be rather admired than understood, yet so quick and easie where he would express himself, and his _Memory_ so strong and active, that he appeared the _Master_ of a large and plenteous _store-house_ of _Knowledge_, being (as it were) _Natures Midwife_, stripping her _Callou-brood_, and clothing them in new _Attire_. His _Wit_ was quick to the last; for _Gondemar_ meeting him the _Lent_ before his _Censure_, and hearing of his _Miscarriages_, thought to pay him with his _Spanish Sarcasms_ and _Scoffs_, saying, _My Lord, I wish you a good Easter_; _And you my Lord_, replyed the _Chancellor_, _a good Passeover_: For he could neither close with his _English Buffonerie_, nor his _Spanish Treaty_ (which _Gondemar_ knew) though he was so wise as publiquely to oppose neither. _In fine, he was a fit Jewel to have beautified, and adorned a flourishing Kingdom, if his flaws had not disgraced the lustre that should have set him off._

10.

By THOMAS FULLER.

[Sidenote: An essay at his character.]

None can character him to the life, save himself. He was _in parts_, more than a Man, who in any Liberal profession, might be, whatsoever he would himself. A great Honourer of _antient Authors_, yet a great Deviser and Practiser of new waies in Learning. Privy Counsellor, as to King JAMES, so to _Nature_ it self, diving into many of her abstruse Mysteries. New conclusions he would _dig out_ with _mattocks_ of _gold & silver_, not caring what his experience cost him, expending on the _Trials of Nature_, all and more than he got by the _Trials at the Barre_, Posterity being the better for his, though he the worse for his own, dear experiments. He and his Servants had _all in common_, the _Men_ never wanting what their _Master_ had, and thus what came _flowing_ in unto him, was sent _flying_ away from him, who, in giving of rewards knew no _bounds_, but the _bottome_ of his own purse. Wherefore when King James heard that he had given _Ten pounds_ to an _under-keeper_, by whom He had sent him a _Buck_, the King said merrily, _I and He shall both die Beggars_, which was condemnable Prodigality in a _Subject_. He lived many years after, and in his Books will ever survive, in the reading whereof, modest Men commend him, in what they doe, condemn themselves, in what they doe not understand, as believing the fault in their own eyes, and not in the object.

11.

By WILLIAM RAWLEY.

He was no _Plodder_ upon _Books_; Though he read much; And that, with great Judgement, and Rejection of Impertinences, incident to many _Authours_: For he would ever interlace a _Moderate Relaxation_ of His _Minde_, with his _Studies_; As _Walking_; Or _Taking_ the _Aire abroad_ in his _Coach_; or some other befitting _Recreation_: And yet he would _loose_ no _Time_, In as much as upon his _First_ and _Immediate Return_, he would fall to _Reading_ again: And so suffer no _Moment_ of _Time_ to Slip from him, without some present _Improvement_.

His _Meales_ were _Refections_, of the _Eare_, as well as of the _Stomack_: Like the _Noctes Atticæ_; or _Convivia Deipno-Sophistarum_; Wherein a Man might be refreshed, in his _Minde_, and _understanding_, no lesse then in his _Body_. And I have known some, of no mean Parts, that have professed to make use of their _Note-Books_, when they have risen from his _Table_. In which _Conversations_, and otherwise, he was no Dashing Man; As some Men are; But ever, a _Countenancer_, and _Fosterer_, of another Mans _Parts_. Neither was he one, that would _appropriate_ the _Speech_, wholy to Himself; or delight to out-vie others; But leave a Liberty, to the _Co-Assessours_, to take their _Turns_, to Wherein he would draw a _Man_ on, and allure him, to speak upon such a Subject, as wherein he was peculiarly _Skilfull_, and would delight to speak. And, for Himself, he condemned no Mans _Observations_; But would light his _Torch_ at every Mans _Candle_.

His _Opinions_, and _Assertions_, were, for the most part, _Binding_; And not contradicted, by any; Rather like _Oracles_, then _Discourses_. Which may be imputed, either to the well weighing of his _Sentence_, by the Skales of _Truth_, and _Reason_; Or else, to the _Reverence_, and _Estimation_, wherein he was, commonly, had, that no _Man_ would _contest_ with him. So that, there was no _Argumentation_, or _Pro_ and _Con_, (as they term it,) at his _Table_: Or if there chanced to be any, it was Carried with much _Submission_, and _Moderation_.

I have often observed; And so have other Men, of great Account; That if he had occasion to repeat another Mans _Words_, after him; he had an use, and Faculty, to dresse them in better _Vestments_, and _Apparell_, then they had before: So that, the _Authour_ should finde his own _Speech_ much amended; And yet the _Substance_ of it still _retained_. As if it had been _Naturall_ to him, to use good _Forms_; As _Ovid_ spake, of his _Faculty_ of _Versifying_;

_Et quod tentabam Scribere, Versus erat._

When his _Office_ called him, as he was of the _Kings Counsell Learned_, to charge any _Offenders_, either in _Criminals_, or _Capitals_; He was never of an _Insulting_, or _Domineering Nature_, over them; But alwayes tender Hearted, and carrying himself decently towards the _Parties_; (Though it was his Duty, to charge them home:) But yet, as one, that looked upon the _Example_, with the Eye of _Severity_; But upon the _Person_, with the Eye of _Pitty_, and Compassion. And in _Civill Businesse_, as he was _Counseller_ of _Estate_, he had the best way of _Advising_; Not engaging his _Master_, in any _Precipitate_, or _grievous_, Courses; But in _Moderate_, and _Fair_, Proceedings: The _King_, whom he served, giving him this _Testimony_; That he ever dealt, in Businesse, Suavibus Modis; _Which was the way, that was most according to his own Heart_.

Neither was He, in his time, lesse Gracious with the _Subject_, then with his _Soveraign_: He was ever Acceptable to the _House of Commons_, when He was a _Member_ thereof. Being the _Kings Atturney_, & chosen to a place, in _Parliament_, He was allowed, and dispensed with, to sit in the _House_; which was not permitted to other _Atturneys_.

And as he was a good _Servant_, to his _Master_; Being never, in 19. years Service, (as himself averred,) rebuked by the _King_, for any Thing, relating to his _Majesty_; So he was a good _Master_, to his _Servants_; And rewarded their long _Attendance_, with good _Places_, freely, when they fell into his Power. Which was the Cause, that so many young _Gentlemen_, of _Bloud_, and _Quality_, sought to list themselves, in his _Retinew_. And if he were abused, by any of them, in their _Places_; It was onely the _Errour_ of the _Goodnesse_ of his _Nature_; But the Badges of their _Indiscretions_, and _Intemperances_.

12.

BEN JONSON.

_Born 1573. Died 1637._

By CLARENDON.

Ben Johnsons name can never be forgotten, havinge by his very good learninge, and the severity of his nature, and manners, very much reformed the Stage and indeede the English poetry it selfe; his naturall advantages were judgement to order and governe fancy, rather then excesse of fancy, his productions beinge slow and upon deliberation, yett then aboundinge with greate witt and fancy, and will lyve accordingly, and surely as he did exceedingly exalte the English language, in eloquence, propriety, and masculyne exspressions, so he was the best judge of, and fittest to prescribe rules to poetry and poetts, of any man who had lyved with or before him, or since, if M'r Cowly had not made a flight beyounde all men, with that modesty yett to own much of his to the example and learninge of Ben. Johnson: His conversation was very good and with the men of most note, and he had for many yeares an extraordinary kindnesse for M'r Hyde, till he founde he betooke himselfe to businesse, which he believed ought never to be preferred before his company: He lyved to be very old, and till the Palsy made a deepe impression upon his body and his minde.

13.

By JAMES HOWELL.

_To Sir THO. HAWK. Knight_.

Sir,

I was invited yesternight to a solemne supper by _B.I._ wher you were deeply remembred, ther was good company, excellent chear, choice wines, and joviall welcom; one thing interven'd which almost spoyld the relish of the rest, that _B._ began to engross all the discourse, to vapour extremely of himself, and by villifying others to magnifie his owne _muse_; _T. Ca._ buz'd me in the eare, that though _Ben_ had barreld up a great deal of knowledg, yet it seems he had not read the _Ethiques_, which among other precepts of morality forbid self-commendation, declaring it to be an ill favourd solecism in good manners; It made me think upon the Lady (not very young) who having a good while given her guests neat entertainment, a capon being brought upon the table, instead of a spoon she took a mouthfull of claret and spouted it into the poope of the hollow bird; such an accident happend in this entertainment you know--_Proprio laus sordet in ore; be a mans breath never so sweet, yet it makes ones prayses stink, if he makes his owne mouth the conduit pipe of it_; But for my part I am content to dispense with this _Roman_ infirmity of _B._ now that time hath snowed upon his pericranium. You know _Ovid_, and (your) _Horace_ were subject to this humour, the first bursting out into,

_Tamq; opus exegi quod nec Iovis ira, nec ignis_, &c.

The other into,

_Exegi monumentum ære perennius_, &c.

As also _Cicero_ while he forc'd himself into this Exameter; _O fortunatam natam me consule Romam_. Ther is another reason that excuseth _B._ which is, that if one be allowed to love the naturall issue of his body, why not that of the brain, which is of a spirituall and more noble extraction; I preserve your manuscripts safe for you till your return to _London_, what newes the times afford this bearer will impart unto you. So I am,

Sir,
_Your very humble and most faithfull Servitor_, J.H.
_Westmin. 5 Apr. 1636._

14.

HENRY HASTINGS.

_Born 1551. Died 1650._

By SHAFTESBURY.

Mr. Hastings, by his quality, being the son, brother, and uncle to the Earls of Huntingdon, and his way of living, had the first place amongst us. He was peradventure an original in our age, or rather the copy of our nobility in ancient days in hunting and not warlike times; he was low, very strong and very active, of a reddish flaxen hair, his clothes always green cloth, and never all worth when new five pounds. His house was perfectly of the old fashion, in the midst of a large park well stocked with deer, and near the house rabbits to serve his kitchen, many fish-ponds, and great store of wood and timber; a bowling-green in it, long but narrow, full of high ridges, it being never levelled since it was ploughed; they used round sand bowls, and it had a banqueting-house like a stand, a large one built in a tree. He kept all manner of sport-hounds that ran buck, fox, hare, otter, and badger, and hawks long and short winged; he had all sorts of nets for fishing: he had a walk in the New Forest and the manor of Christ Church. This last supplied him with red deer, sea and river fish; and indeed all his neighbours' grounds and royalties were free to him, who bestowed all his time in such sports, but what he borrowed to caress his neighbours' wives and daughters, there being not a woman in all his walks of the degree of a yeoman's wife or under, and under the age of forty, but it was extremely her fault if he were not intimately acquainted with her. This made him very popular, always speaking kindly to the husband, brother, or father, who was to boot very welcome to his house whenever he came. There he found beef pudding and small beer in great plenty, a house not so neatly kept as to shame him or his dirty shoes, the great hall strewed with marrow bones, full of hawks' perches, hounds, spaniels, and terriers, the upper sides of the hall hung with the fox-skins of this and the last year's skinning, here and there a polecat intermixed, guns and keepers' and huntsmen's poles in abundance. The parlour was a large long room, as properly furnished; on a great hearth paved with brick lay some terriers and the choicest hounds and spaniels; seldom but two of the great chairs had litters of young cats in them, which were not to be disturbed, he having always three or four attending him at dinner, and a little white round stick of fourteen inches long lying by his trencher, that he might defend such meat as he had no mind to part with to them. The windows, which were very large, served for places to lay his arrows, crossbows, stonebows, and other such like accoutrements; the corners of the room full of the best chose hunting and hawking poles; an oyster-table at the lower end, which was of constant use twice a day all the year round, for he never failed to eat oysters before dinner and supper through all seasons: the neighbouring town of Poole supplied him with them. The upper part of this room had two small tables and a desk, on the one side of which was a church Bible, on the other the Book of Martyrs; on the tables were hawks' hoods, bells, and such like, two or three old green hats with their crowns thrust in so as to hold ten or a dozen eggs, which were of a pheasant kind of poultry he took much care of and fed himself; tables, dice, cards, and boxes were not wanting. In the hole of the desk were store of tobacco-pipes that had been used. On one side of this end of the room was the door of a closet, wherein stood the strong beer and the wine, which never came thence but in single glasses, that being the rule of the house exactly observed, for he never exceeded in drink or permitted it. On the other side was a door into an old chapel not used for devotion; the pulpit, as the safest place, was never wanting of a cold chine of beef, pasty of venison, gammon of bacon, or great apple-pie, with thick crust extremely baked. His table cost him not much, though it was very good to eat at, his sports supplying all but beef and mutton, except Friday, when he had the best sea-fish as well as other fish he could get, and was the day that his neighbours of best quality most visited him. He never wanted a London pudding, and always sung it in with 'my part lies therein-a.' He drank a glass of wine or two at meals, very often syrrup of gilliflower in his sack, and had always a tun glass without feet stood by him holding a pint of small beer, which he often stirred with a great sprig of rosemary. He was well natured, but soon angry, calling his servants bastard and cuckoldy knaves, in one of which he often spoke truth to his own knowledge, and sometimes in both, though of the same man. He lived to a hundred, never lost his eyesight, but always writ and read without spectacles, and got to horse without help. Until past fourscore he rode to the death of a stag as well as any.

15.

CHARLES I.

_Born 1600. Succeeded James I 1625. Beheaded 1649._

By CLARENDON.