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 Atticae_; 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-a.s.sessours_, 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 _a.s.sertions_, 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 Compa.s.sion. 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 p.o.o.pe 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 aere 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 n.o.ble extraction; I preserve your ma.n.u.scripts 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 n.o.bility 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 gla.s.ses, 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 gla.s.s of wine or two at meals, very often syrrup of gilliflower in his sack, and had always a tun gla.s.s 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 b.a.s.t.a.r.d 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.
The severall unhearde of insolencyes which this excellent Prince was forced to submitt to, at the other tymes he was brought before that odious judicatory, his Majesticke behaviour under so much insolence, and resolute insistinge upon his owne dignity, and defendinge it by manifest authorityes in the lawe, as well as by the cleerest deductions from reason, the p.r.o.nouncinge that horrible sentence upon the most innocent person in the worlde, the execution of that sentence by the most execrable murther that ever was committed, since that of our blessed Savyour, and the circ.u.mstances therof, the application and interposition that was used by some n.o.ble persons to praevent that wofull murther, and the hypocrisy with which that interposition was deluded, the Saintlike behaviour of that blessed Martir, and his Christian courage and patience at his death, are all particulars so well knowne, and have bene so much inlarged upon in treatises peculiarly applyed to that purpose, that the farther mentioninge it in this place, would but afflicte and grieve the reader, and make the relation itselfe odious; and therfore no more shall be sayd heare of that lamentable Tragedy, so much to the dishonour of the Nation, and the religion professed by it; but it will not be unnecessary to add the shorte character of his person, that posterity may know the inestimable losse which the nation then underwent in beinge deprived of a Prince whose example would have had a greater influence upon the manners and piety of the nation, then the most stricte lawes can have.
To speake first of his private qualifications as a man, before the mention of his princely and royall virtues, He was, if ever any, the most worthy of the t.i.tle of an honest man; so greate a lover of justice, that no temptation could dispose him to a wrongfull action, except it were so disguysed to him, that he believed it to be just; he had a tendernesse and compa.s.sion of nature, which restrayned him from ever doinge a hard hearted thinge, and therfore he was so apt to grant pardon to Malefactors, that his Judges represented to him the damage and insecurity to the publique that flowed from such his indulgence, and then he restrayned himselfe from pardoninge ether murthers or highway robberyes, and quickly decerned the fruits of his severity, by a wounderfull reformation of those enormityes. He was very punctuall and regular in his devotions, so that he was never knowne to enter upon his recreations or sportes, though never so early in the morninge, before he had bene at publique prayers, so that on huntinge dayes, his Chaplynes were bounde to a very early attendance, and he was likewise very stricte in observinge the howres of his private cabbinett devotions, and was so seveare an exactor of gravity and reverence in all mention of religion, that he could never indure any light or prophane worde in religion, with what sharpnesse of witt so ever it was cover"d; and though he was well pleased and delighted with readinge verses made upon any occasyon, no man durst bringe before him any thinge that was prophane or uncleane, that kinde of witt had never any countenance then. He was so greate an example of conjugall affection, that they who did not imitate him in that particular, did not bragge of ther liberty, and he did not only permitt but directe his Bishopps to prosequte those skandalous vices, in the Ecclesiasticall Courtes, against persons of eminence, and neere relation to his service.
His kingly virtues had some mixture and allay that hindred them from shyninge in full l.u.s.tre, and from producinge those fruites they should have bene attended with; he was not in his nature bountifull, though he gave very much, which appeared more after the Duke of Buckinghams death, after which those showers fell very rarely, and he paused to longe in givinge, which made those to whome he gave lesse sensible of the benefitt. He kept state to the full, which made his Courte very orderly, no man prsesuminge to be seene in a place wher he had no pretence to be; he saw and observed men longe, before he receaved any about his person, and did not love strangers, nor very confident men.
He was a patient hearer of causes, which he frequently accustomed himselfe to, at the Councell Board, and judged very well, and was dextrous in the mediatinge parte, so that he often putt an end to causes by perswasion, which the stubbornesse of mens humours made delatory in courts of justice. He was very fearelesse in his person, but not enterpryzinge, and had an excellent understandinge, but was not confident enough of it: which made him often tymes chaunge his owne opinion for a worse, and follow the advice of a man, that did not judge so well as himselfe: and this made him more irresolute, then the conjuncture of his affayres would admitt: If he had bene of a rougher and more imperious nature, he would have founde more respecte and duty, and his not applyinge some seveare cures, to approchinge evills, proceeded from the lenity of his nature, and the tendernesse of his conscience, which in all cases of bloode, made him choose the softer way, and not hearken to seveare councells how reasonably soever urged.
This only restrayned him from pursuinge his advantage in the first Scotts expedition, when humanely speakinge, he might have reduced that Nation to the most slavish obedyence that could have bene wished, but no man can say, he had then many who advized him to it, but the contrary, by a wounderfull indisposition all his Councell had to fightinge, or any other fatigue. He was alwayes an immoderate lover of the Scottish nation, havinge not only bene borne ther, but educated by that people and besiedged by them alwayes, havinge few English aboute him till he was kinge, and the major number of his servants beinge still of those, who he thought could never fayle him, and then no man had such an ascendent over him, by the lowest and humblest insinuations, as Duke Hambleton had.