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not forbear accusing myself of disobedience, and indeed of ingratitude, for his many favours. Thus I became engaged into the third life.

For the life of that great example of holiness, Mr. George Herbert, I profess it to be so far a free-will offering, that it was writ chiefly to please myself, but yet not without some respect to posterity: For though he was not a man that the next age can forget, yet many of his particular acts and virtues might have been neglected, or lost, if I had not collected and presented them to the imitation of those that shall succeed us: For I humbly conceive writing to be both a safer and truer preserver of men's virtuous actions than tradition; especially as it is managed in this age. And I am also to tell the reader, that though this life of Mr. Herbert was not by me writ in haste, yet I intended it a review before it should be made public; but that was not allowed me, by reason of my absence from London when it was printing: so that the reader may find in it some mistakes, some double expressions, and some not very proper, and some that might have been contracted, and some faults that are not justly chargeable upon me, but the printer; and yet I hope none so great, as may not, by this confession, purchase pardon from a good-natured reader.

And now I wi h, that as that learned Jew, Josephus, and others, so these men had also writ

their own lives; but since it is not the fashion of these times, I wish their relations or friends would do it for them, before delays make it too difficult. And I desire this the more, because it is an honour due to the dead, and a generous debt due to those that shall live and succeed us, and would to them prove both a content and satisfaction. For when the next age shall (as this does) admire the learn ing and clear reason which that excellent casuist Dr. Sanderson (the late Bishop of Lincoln) hath demonstrated in his sermons and other writings; who, if they love virtue, would not rejoice to know, that this good man was as remarkable for the meekness and innocence of his life, as for his great and useful learning; and indeed as remarkable for his fortitude in his long and patient suffering (under them that then called themselves the godly party) for that doctrine which he had preached and printed in the happy days of the nation's and the church's peace? And who would not be content to have the like account of Dr. Field', that great schoolman, and others of noted learning? And though I cannot hope that my

Dr. RICHARD FIELD, Chaplain to James I. and Dean of Gloucester, died Nov. 21, 1616,—the friend of Mr. Richard Hooker, and one of the most learned men of his age. He was the author of a work entitled, " Of the Church, fol. 1610.”— James I. when he first heard him preach, said, “This is a Field ** for God to dwell in."—With the same allusion Fuller calls hun that

example or reason can persuade to this undertaking, yet I please myself, that I shall conclude my preface with wishing that it were so.

I. W.

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that learned divine, whose memory smelleth like a Field that the Lord hath blessed.”—Anthony Wood mentions a manuscript, written by Nathaniel Field, Rector of Stourton, in Wiltshire, containing "some short Memorials concerning the Life of

that Rev. Divine, Dr. Richard Field, Prebendary of Wind"sor," &c. The feature which peculiarly marked his disposition, was an aversion to those disputes on the Arminian points, which tæn began to disturb the peace of the church, and from which be dreaded the most a happy consequences. It was his ambition to a Lelate, not to irritate.

TO MY OLD AND MOST WORTHY FRIEND,

MR. IZAAK WALTON,

ON HIS

LIFE OF DOCTOR DONNE, &c.

WHEN, to a Nation's loss, the virtuous die,
There's justly due from ev'ry hand and eye
That can, or write, or weep, an elegy.

Which though it be the poorest, cheapest way,
The debt we owe great merits, to defray,
Yet it is almost all that inost men pay.

And these are monuments of so short date,
That with their birth they oft receive their fate,
Dying with those whom they would celebrate.

And though to verse great reverence is due,
Yet what most poets write proves so untrue,
It renders truth in verse suspected too.

Something more sacred then, and more entire
The memories of virtuous men require,
Than what may with their funeral-torch expire.

Thas history can give; to which alone
The privilege to mate oblivion

Is granted, when deny'd to brass and stone

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