r, and makes the arts his way.
He counts it not prophaneness to be polished with human reading, or to
smooth his way by Aristotle to school-divinity. He has sounded both
religions, and anchored in the best, and is a protestant out of judgment,
not faction; not because his country, but his reason is on this side. The
ministry is his choice, not refuge, and yet the pulpit not his itch, but
fear. His discourse is substance, not all rhetoric, and he utters more
things than words. His speech is not helped with inforced action, but the
matter acts itself. He shoots all his meditations at one but; and beats
upon his text, not the cushion; making his hearers, not the pulpit groan.
In citing of popish errors, he cuts them with arguments, not cudgels them
with barren invectives; and labours more to shew the truth of his cause
than the spleen. His sermon is limited by the method, not the hour-glass;
and his devotion goes along with him out of the pulpit. He comes not up
thrice a week, because he would not be idle; nor talks three hours
together, because he would not talk nothing: but his tongue preaches at
fit times, and his conversation is the every day's exercise. In matters
of ceremony, he is not ceremonious, but thinks he owes that reverence to
the church to bow his judgement to it, and make more conscience of schism,
than a surplice. He esteems the church hierarchy as the church's glory,
and however we jar with Rome, would not have our confusion distinguish us.
In simoniacal purchases he thinks his soul goes in the bargain, and is
loath to come by promotion so dear; yet his worth at length advances him,
and the price of his own merit buys him a living. He is no base grater of
his tythes, and will not wrangle for the odd egg. The lawyer is the only
man he hinders, by whom he is spited for taking up quarrels. He is a main
pillar of our church, though not yet dean or canon, and his life our
religion's best apology. His death is the last sermon, where, in the
pulpit of his bed, he instructs men to die by his example.[8]

FOOTNOTES:

[8] I cannot forbear to close this admirable character with the beautiful
description of a "_poure Persone_," _riche of holy thought and werk_,
given by the father of English poetry:--

"Benigne he was, and wonder diligent,
And in adversite ful patient:
And swiche he was ypreved often sithes.
Ful loth were him to cursen for his tythes,
But rather wolde he yeven out of doute,