Vol 02 - THE LIFE OF MR. JOHN FOX.WRITTEN BY HIS SON.

THE LIFE OF MR. JOHN FOX.WRITTEN BY HIS SON
JOHN FOX was born at Boston, an ancient town in the county of Lincoln, in the year 1517; his father and mother being of that town, well reputed of, and of good estate. While he was very young, his father dying, and his mother being married again, he came into the tutelage of his father-in-law, with whom he dwelt during his childhood; which he had scarce passed over, when his friends sent him to study at Oxford. He was first of Brazen-Nose College, where he was chamber-fellow with Dr. Nowell, so famous a man in this city afterwards; and it was no great marvel if their manners were so alike in the course of their lives, whose education was the same.
The native excellence and sharpness of his wit, were well seconded by the fitness of the place; where each student's proficiency was narrowly sought into. Neither was industry wanting, which as it seldom accompaniet.h the greatest wits, so where it is conjoined, is most available. He was afterwards chosen fellow of Magdalen College. Here he wrote divers Latin comedies, in a copious, graceful style. But even then he began to give earnest of what he afterwards proved. For neither those first flourishes of his youth were spent, but in histories of the Bible; nor followed he that vein long. He betook himself to the study of divinity, with more fervency than circumspection, and discovered him self in favor of the reformation then in hand, before he was known to them that maintained the cause, or were of ability to protect the maintainers of it; whence grew his first troubles.
This was the time when King Henry the Eighth was uncertain what course to take, thinking the affairs of the church, neither in all respects tolerable, nor that it was necessary wholly to alter them. Never were the people in more distraction, or less security of their lives and estates; there being in the laws such contrarieties, as no man could tell what to take to with safety. For although the pope's supremacy had been renounced, yet was his doctrine still retained. The first news of abolishing the pope's supremacy, was as prosperous as welcome to the reformers: and divers joined themselves to them out of love to the truth; being further assured of the king's intentions, by the punishment taken by some of the contrary part; and especially when the abbeys were dissolved. Nor was their hope a little increased, when they perceived the noblemen to rise in the favor of the king, as any of them most opposed the pope's dominion. In the mean while the act of the six articles was still in force; and if any were found guilty of the breach thereof, they were sure of punishment. So that as long as the king held the middle way between his own genius, and the advice of his counsellors, feeding them with favors, upon which they could build no assurance, and pleasing himself in his own severity, fear and hope equally prevailed.
But when the pillars of the reformed religion were - taken away; the Duke of Suffolk by untimely death; the Lord Cromwell, by the sword; the Archbishop Cranmer, and his friends, borne down by those of the contrary side; and when neither in the laws, nor the protection of the peers, there was the least help remaining; then began all things to hasten back again headlong to their former abuses.
In the universities and schools there was yet no open change: I know not whether through fear, or that they would not be followers.
This was the estate of the church-affairs, when Mr. Fox began attentively to. seek into the substance of the controversy then in agitation.
He found the contention to have been of great antiquity, and no age to have been free from some debate in the church. But those first quarrels were rather for dominion. The Romans endeavoring, by pretext of religion, to retain the ancient honor of their city, which by open force they could not defend.
Then no sooner could any skew himself to differ from them in point of faith, but his punishment prevented any infection that might spread among others. Thus, by their cruelty, and the patience of princes, who suffered it, the greatest part of these dissensions were appeased. Neither hitherto were all tracts of the old Roman virtue worn out; at least, some resemblances of virtue remained among many things, however perverted.
Afterward the pope, grown bolder by good success, began to draw to himself all power and authority; and not contented to have weakened the estate of the Roman empire, now longed to be fingering the sceptres of other princes; and to compass his design, spared not to violate any human or Divine right. Meanwhile the clergy little weighed with how great damage to religion, men of spotted life and conversation were sometimes chosen to the papacy; by whose example the strictness of life, used by their forefathers, was drawn into scorn, and their poverty into reproach, the industry of the priesthood languished; and, on the contrary, ambition, riot, and avarice began to reign among them. Then at length were the practices of the churchmen brought to light, and their delusions laid open. It was then known why the ceremonies and rites in the church, had been brought to that excessive multitude; to wit, that the number of the clergy might be increased to perform them. These of necessity were to be maintained; and to that end were such opinions broached, as seemed most likely to draw money from all places: of the merit of works; of purgatory; of the power of absolution, and the pope's indulgencies: all which being in themselves false, and soon subject to decay, were cemented together with that new and subtle invention of the pope's infallibility.
By this handsome linking one opinion to another, the credulity of the people was easily ensnared. All this while the new opinions yielding a plentiful increase, great sums of money came daily to the court of Rome. I have often heard Mr. Fox affirm, that the first matter which occasioned his search into the Popish doctrine was, that he saw divers things repugnant to one another, thrust upon meii, to be both believed: as, that the same man might, in matters of faith, be superior, and yet, in his life and manners, inferior to all the world besides. Upon this beginning, his obedience to that church was somewhat shaken, and by little and little followed dislike to the rest. His first care was to look into both the ancient and modern history of the church, to learn what beginning it had; what growth and increase; by what arts it flourished, and by what errors it began to decline; to consider the causes of all those controversies which had sprung up, and to weigh diligently what on either side was produced. This he performed with such heat of study, and in so short a time, that before the 30th year of his age, he had read over all that either the Greek or Latin fathers had left in their writings; the schoolmen, in their disputations; the councils, in their acts; or the. consistory, in their decrees; and had acquired no mean skill in the Hebrew language.
By report of some, who were fellow-students with him, he used, over and above his day's exercise, to bestow whole nights at his study'; or not till it were very late to betake himself to rest. Near the college was a grove, wherein the students took delight to walk, and spend some idle hours for their recreation. This place, and the dead time of the night, Mr. Fox chose, with solitude and darkness, to confirm his mind.
Many nights he watched in these solitary walks; many combats and wrestlings he suffered within himself; many heavy sighs and tears he poured forth with his prayers to Almighty God. But no sooner was the fame spread of his nightly retirements, than the more understanding sort interpreted all in the worst sense. At length those with whom he was intimate, being drawn into suspicion of him, there were sonic employed, who might observe his walks, and pry with more curiosity into his words and actions. And there wanted not others, who, comparing his customs formerly used, with the course he now took, did with more bitterness aggravate the fact. Why should he not come to church, as often as in former times Why should he shun the company of his equals, and refuse to recreate himself after his wonted manner, unless he had felt in his mind some sudden alteration And if that alteration were for the better, he would not conceal it.
Being thus reported of, when he could neither hide his resolution longer, nor, being a man of plain dealing, excuse himself by forging a lie; by the judgment of the college he was convicted, condemned as an heretic, and removed from the house. Nevertheless his adversaries affirmed, he was favorably dealt with by that sentence, and might have been questioned for his life, if they had not rather used clemency towards him than extremity. But this wound raged worse than was thought it would. His friends, upon the report of this accident, being sorely displeased, and especially his father-in-law, who was now grown implacable,. and determined to withhold from him his own father's estate. He knew it could not be safe for one in danger of the law to seek remedy by it; and also that Mr. Fox was so ignorant in requiting injuries, that he would many times with much ado confess himself wronged, even when he had ability of revenge in his hands.
When he was thus forsaken by his friends, and left naked of all human assistance, God's Providence began to show itself, procuring him a safe refuge in the house of a gentleman of Warwickshire,' Sir Thomas Lucy, by whom he was sent for, to instruct his children: in which house he afterwards married a wife, and there continued till the `children, coming to riper years, had no longer need of a tutor. But the fear of the popish inquisitions hastened his departure thence; which now, relying on the favor of the laws, were not contented to pursue public offences, but began also to break into the secrets of private families.
He now consulted with himself what was best to be done, and of two ways only left, whereby he might free himself from farther inconvenience, long debated whether to go to his wife's father, or his father-in-law by marriage of his mother. His wife's father dwelt nearest, being a citizen of Coventry, not yet bearing any hatred towards him. His father-in-law was better known to him, but more suspected. At last he resolved to go first to his wife's father, and in the mean while by letters to try, whether his father-in-law would receive him or not. His fatherin-law's answer was, that it seemed to him a hard condition to take one into his house whom he knew to be condemned for a capital offence; neither was he ignorant what hazard he should undergo in so doing: nevertheless he would show himself a kinsman, and for that cause neglect his own danger. If he would alter his mind, he might come and stay as long as himself desired: but if he could not be persuaded to that, be should content himself with a shorter tarriance, and not bring him and his mother into hazard of their fortunes.
Mr. Fox thought no condition to be refused: besides he was advised by his mother to come, and riot to fear his father-in-law's severity; for that it was needful to write as he did, but when occasion should be offered, he would make recompence for his words with his actions.
The truth is, he had better entertainment with both of them, than he any way hoped for: and by often going to and fro, from the one to the other, (which carried with it some show of business,) he both deceived their diligence who inquired after him, and effected that neither grew weary of his company.
Afterward he took his journey towards London; but upon what motives is uncertain; unless we may imagine the convenience of the place enticed him thither; which being full of all sorts of company, might give him occasions, whether he should choose to conceal himself, or make known his abilities, and get acquaintance with those of like inclination.
I think the chief cause of his going thither was, that religion began a little to recover itself, especially about the city. For he calve not to town till within a few years before King Henry departed this life. Who, when he grew into years, perceiving his health every day impaired, and' that his death could not be far off; then began to consider which side was most trusty, and at what age he should expose his son, to the raging hatred of the papists, who was yet, by reason of his youth, unfit to govern, and brought up in a religion which they opposed.
He, therefore, at last resolved upon that, which in reason seemed most wholesome, and in the end proved most fortunate; and having put the papist officers from their authority, by his will he appointed his son such tutors, whose love to himself he always found readiest, and by long trial of their fidelity, thought likely to continue the same to his successor. This set religion again in safety: but howsoever the professors thereof were secured for their lives; yet hence no public benefit was afforded them: so that Mr. Fox was still in as mach want as before, having already spent what either his friends had bestowed on him, or his own daily industry had acquired.
I should forbear to speak of a great example of God's mercy, were not the matter so well known (abroad. As Mr. Fox one day sat in Paul's church, spent with long fasting, his countenance thin, and eye's hollow, there came to him one whom he never remembered to have seen before, who sitting by him, and saluting him with much familiarity, thrust a sum of money into his hand, bidding him be of good cheer; adding withal, that he should accept in good part that small gift from his countryman, which common courtesy had enforced him to offer; that he should go and make much of himself, and take all occasions to prolong his life; for within a few days new hopes were at hand, and a more certain livelihood. Never could Mr. Fox learn who that man should be, by whose seasonable bounty he had been relieved; though he earnestly endeavored to find him out.
Some who looked further into the event, believed that this man came not of his own accord, but was sent by some others, who desired Mr. Fox's safety; and that it might be through the servant's negligence that he suffered extreme miseries, before any relief came. Certain it is, that, within three days' space the issue seemed to make good the presage, there being some sent from the Duchess of Richmond, who invited him into her service:. Not long before, the Duke of Norfolk, the most renowned general of the time, together with his son, the Earl of Surrey, a man of sharp understanding, was committed to custody in the tower of London; for what crimes is uncertain. While they were in prison, the earl's children were sent to the aforesaid duchess, their aunt, to be brought up and educated: Thomas, who succeeded in the dukedom; Henry, who was afterwards Earl of Northampton; and Jane, afterwards Countess of Westmorland.
To these young lords Mr. Fox was appointed tutor, to instruct them both in manners and learning: in which charge he deceived not the expectation which the duchess, a woman of great wisdom, had of him. For the two sons grew to that proficiency in their behavior and scholarship, that, building in their riper years upon this foundation, the elder, Thomas, seemed to deserve more than the kingdom could bestow upon him; the younger, Henry, came to be eminent in all virtues; and the young Lady Jane, profited so wondrously in the Greek and Latin tongues, that she might well stand in competition with the most learned men of that time.
There he dwelt during the last years of King Henry's reign, and through the reign of King Edward the Sixth, till the beginning of Queen Mary's sovereignty; who coming to the crown, and turning the stream of religion, all things again yielded to the papists' authority.
Mr. Fox was at that time sheltered by the duke, his scholar; though he was secretly laid wait for by Dr. Gardiner, bishop of Winchester, who both saw something in him which he greatly feared; and also disdained much, that the heir of one of the greatest families in the kingdom, and nearest joined to himself in friendship, should by his company be depraved.
Mr. Fox, although he was cherished in the bosom of the duke; yet after he saw all sorts of men troubled for their religion, some imprisoned, and others burnt; in brief, nothing on all sides, but flight, slaughter, and gibbets; and that the bishop of Winchester was the principal incendiary, who, for private respects was already his enemy, began to fear what might become of him, and to think of some speedy way for his departure hence.
As soon as the duke knew his intent, gently chiding his fearfulness, he used many words to persuade him to leave all thought of going away; affirming it neither agreeable to honor or modesty, for him to suffer his tutor, so well deserving at his hands, to be taken from him: that he remembered with what precepts he had fortified his younger years; neither had he with more attention hearkened to his instructions, than he would with constancy put them in practice; only let him be of good courage, and so avoid the violence of his enemies, as not to be weary of his friend's company: that this he spoke, as hoping by his authority to prevail with him: but if that might not be obtained, he would further him in the course he intended.
There was in the duke's speech the more credit, because it was known to proceed from the sincerity of his heart. His answer’vas, that it was indeed for the duke's honor to defend his tutor from any injury; but it was his own part to have a care, lest for his safety the duke might incur apparent danger. Neither did his fear want excuse. For, though he well knew the duke could not be drawn from his good intentions towards him; yet he was not ignorant that, by some wile or other, he might be circumvented and deceived.
For even at that time was the bishop of Winchester very intimate with the duke. Thither he often resorted, and at several times desired of him that he might see his old tutor. At first he denied his request, faining several delays to put him off. At length it chanced, that Mr. Fox (not knowing the bishop was in the house,) entered the room where the duke and he were in discourse; and seeing the bishop, withdrew himself. The bishop asking who that was The duke answered, " My physician." u I like his looks well," says the bishop, a and upon occasion will use him." The duke understood that speech as the messenger of some approaching danger; and now he himself thought it high time for Mr. Fox to remain no longer in the city. From that time he caused all things necessary to be provided; sending one of his servants before to Ipswich to hire a bark, and make ready all things for the voyage. And, because it seemed scarce safe for Mr. Fox to stay in any city, he chose out the house of one of his servants, a farmer, where he might with convenience expect a fair wind. Thither Mr. Fox went as secret as he could, taking his wife as a companion in his travels, then great with child, but resolved to go with him, nor yielding to the entreaty of those who persuaded her to the contrary; and as soon as it was told him, his company expected him, he made haste to the port, and went aboard.
Scarce had they weighed anchor, when suddenly a rough wind rising from the contrary shore, troubled the sea, that the stoutest mariner began to tremble. Then followed a dark night, with continual showers, and a thick storm of rain and hail. That night, with much ado, they lay at anchor, and as soon as the day appeared, when the tempest seemed not like to cease, they began to make back again to the shore. The tide a little favoring them, with much difficulty they arrived in the evening at the same haven again'. While Mr. Fox had been at sea, a pursuivant from the bishop of Winchester had broke open the farmer's house with a warrant to apprehend him, and bring him back prisoner to the city; but understanding he was gone already, after he had pursued him to the port, and found that the ship he was embarked in, was sailed, he returned without his errand. Mr. Fox, as soon as he came to shore, hearing what had passed, presently took horse, and left the town; but the same night returning, he bargained with the master of the ship to set sail again, telling him that so his business required, nor did he much care what shore he landed at. The pilot took upon him this venturous task, and performed it accordingly. For loosing thence in the night, as soon as the tide turned, though the sea were rough, and the weather blustering, within two days space he landed his company in safety at Newport haven.
Mr. Fox, when he had spent a few days at Newport, went to Antwerp, and thence by small journies to Basil. This city was at that time much spoken of, for the great friendship skewed to those of the English nation for which cause many famous men, withdrawing from the cruelty of the times, had escaped out of England thither. Of these were many but of slender estate, who, some one way, and some another, but the most part of them, maintained themselves by reviewing and correcting the press; this place.. for careful printing, and plenty of diligent and wealthy men of that profession, then surpassing all the cities of Germany; and preferring the industry of our men, in that employment, before any of their own countrymen.
To these Mr. Fox joined himself, so much the better liked of, because, having been always inured to hardiness, he had learned how to endure labor; and that which seemed the greatest misery to others, to sit up late, and keep hard diet, was easy to him.
His industry may be from hence testified, that being so full of employment at Basil, there, nevertheless, he began to write his’history of the Acts and Monuments of the Church. At first it sufficed only to mark it out, and to draw the first lines or rudiments: The whole body of the history he added, after he returned into his own country. First he wrote it in Latin, and sent the copy to Basil to be printed; where the work is still in great estimation. Shortly after, to gratify the unlearned, he wrote it in his mother-tongue.
In the mean while, the reformed religion began again to flourish in England, and the Papists to decline, by the death of Queen Mary; a woman, while she followed her own inclination, every way excellent; but while she denied not any thing to some wicked counsellors, losing that praise she had otherwise deserved.
Dr. Elmare, sometime bishop of London in presence of many yet living, was wont to say, that he was himself at a sermon, wherein Mr. Fox, to comfort the banished English, did with confidence tell them, -" That now was the time come for their return into England; and that he brought them that news by commandment of God." For which words he was then sharply reproved, but excused afterwards by the event; when, by comparing of times, it was found, that Queen Mary died but the day before Mr. Fox had thus presaged.
They who had forsaken their houses, were now called home: they who had suffered imprisonment, were released: they who by loss of goods were decayed, were by gifts repaired: they who had been thrust from places of honor, were restored: the unjust laws were in the mean while abrogated, and wholesome laws established in their place. In such sort did Queen Elizabeth, even in the infancy of her reign, dispose the affairs of the commonwealth.
I showed before, that Mr. Fox first applied himself to write the history of the church, whilst he was at Basil; the cause he did not finish it there was, that he might use the testimony of more witnesses. This work, not a little, vexed the papists. For well they saw, that in vain they had spilt so much blood, if an account of these proceedings must be rendered to succeeding ages. There was no hope left, but by charging the author with falsehood, to lessen his credit and authority; which whilst Mr. Fox endeavored to remove, he could not avoid, but by adding a new heap of matters and testimonies. And let us by this judge of his industry, that he not only gathered together so many several things, as the materials of his work, from all distances of times or places, and through all shires of the kingdom, collected the acts of both courts; but also searched out, examined, and reduced into order those things themselves, being partly eaten out by antiquity, partly by hatred, or flattery of authors corrupted, and partly hid in the rugged and short form of old writing. I find, by the author's own notes, that in the eleventh year after he began to write it, the work was finished. Neither in all that time used he the help of any servant in writing, or other business. So much does industry, employed to one purpose, afford more useful assistance, than a mind divided into many cares at once, though it has ever so many helping hands.
When he had, for many years, left no time free from study, not affording himself what nature required, he was at length brought to that pass, that his natural liveliness and vigor being spent, neither his friends nor kindred could by sight remember him. By this means he first fell into that withered leanness of body, in which many afterward saw him, never again returning to that pleasing and cheerful countenance which he had before; but even then he would by no means be persuaded to lessen his accustomed labors, or lay aside his study.
From this time Mr. Fox began to be much spoken of, for a good historian. The other virtues of his mind, as they were less known abroad, so they were overshadowed by that which was known. Shortly after, he began to wax famous, not only as a man learned, but as one for his friendliness, useful, and no less by art than natural inclination, helpful to others. Either by good advice, comfortable persuasions, or a charitable hand, he relieved the wants, or satisfied the desires of innumerable persons; whereupon no man's house was, in those times, more thronged with clients than his. There repaired to him both citizens and strangers, noblemen and common people of all degrees; and almost all for the same cause, to seek some salve for a wounded conscience.
Thus spending the day at home in such like duties, frequently preaching abroad, and going to visit those, who were not able to come to him; he both fulfilled that, which by the courtesy of his own disposition was enjoined him, and neglected not the performance of that duty, which the office of his ministry had imposed upon him. That little time which his friends, either called away by other occasions, or ashamed of being too tedious, had left free to his own disposure, he bestowed not in sleeping, or taking his pleasure, but in prayer and studying;- in both which, he always retired into some. private place, or made use of the night's silence for’secresy`; unless by chance, sometimes the vehement groans he mingled with his prayers, being heard by some that were near, gave notice how earnest he was in his devotions. For at no time of the night could any man come to find his labors ended; but they often lasted until morning light.
The titles of those books he wrote, are these; Comcediarum libri 2. Syllogisticon. Admonitio ad Parliamentzcnz. De lapsis per errorem in Ecclesiant restituendis. Aiwa vangelica. De Chris to gratis just flcante. De CHRISTo Crucfxo. Papa confutatus. Contra Osoriunz le Justitia. ileditationes supra flpocalypsin Rerum in Ecclesia gestaruzn Conzmentarii.
We may now give the readers a full sight at once, of the rest of Mr. Fox's life. We shall first observe, a deliberate and resolved contempt of all things, which are in greatest esteem among men; and especially of pleasures; which mind of his gave him great ability, to perform whatsoever he listed to take in hand; there being nothing which can mislead the mind that would otherwise hold the right way; but what proceeds from some pleasure or other, lying in wait to entrap us in our journey.
He never declined the friendship of illustrious persons; not to gain honor to himself, but that his commendation might be more effectual, when he should desire favor for others. The money, which sometimes rich men offered him, he accepted, returning it to the poor. He likewise frequented the tables of his friends, not for pleasure, (being of a spare diet) but in courtesy to keep them company, and to provoke them to love and to good works. He behaved so in those things, which are followed by delight, that none of those who-were always in his company, can remember any speech or action of his, which might bewray the least desire to them. And so far was he from thirsting after honor, riches, applause, or any outward good, that he would not suffer even the care of his private estate to enter his mind; much less would he take thought for to-morrow. The love of GOD, wherewith his mind was filled, left no room, nor any affection free for other pleasures. Like one who had found an invaluable treasure, he bent his mind upon this only; neither hoping, nor expecting any thing besides; but resolved to make this the scope of all his wishes and desires. Hence it fell out, that they who observed his mind so steadfastly fixed upon GOD, and that he both spoke and did many things, beyond the opinion of an ordinary good man, believed that he could not be void of some uncommon inspiration. And now some began to honor him, not as a good man only, but as one more immediately sent from heaven.
I will neither deny the truth of any story, nor make any additions thereto. Many things did Mr. Fox foretell, to comfort the afflicted, or terrify those that were stubborn.
It has been already related, with what constancy, whilst he remained at Basil among his banished countrymen, he signified the time of their return. It is likewise well known, what answer he gave concerning the Lady Ann Hennage, lying sick of a violent fever. When the disease had so far increased, that the physicians had pronounced it deadly, Mr. Fox was called to be present at her ending. After he had performed what he came for, in reading prayers and comforting the sick woman, n Well have you done," said he, a and according to your duty, to prepare yourself for all events; but know this from me, that of this sickness you shall not die." Among those who stood by was Sir Moyle Finch, the lady's sonin-law, who, either moved with so unusual a speech, or desirous to get somewhat more out of him, as soon as Mr. Fox was withdrawn, began to chide him; telling him, that he could not but marvel what his intent was, that, contrary to the opinion of the artists, he, being an unskilful man, should presume to determine the end of the disease. To this Mr. Fox, smiling, made answer, " That he hindered not any man to think of him as he pleased; but concerning the sick lady, it had so seemed good unto GOD, that she should recover of that disease; and that he had said no more than was commanded him." The lady recovered; nor can I tell an untruth in this, there being many yet living, who could reprove me.
Like to this was that story of Mrs. Honiwood, an honorable gentlewoman, who had almost twenty years lain sick of a consumption through melancholy, neither did any one seem to have advice or courage sufficient against the force of so mischievous a disease; though she had already consulted with the gravest divines, and the best physicians, and with all, who, either in the art of curing, or power of persuading, were accounted to excel. At length she sent for Mr. Fox. They who went with him related afterward, that they never had entered into a more heavy, or afflicted house. There sat by the sick woman her friends, kinsfolk, children, and servants; some upon seats, and some on the chamber-floor, not weeping or sighing, as those commonly do that lament; but having spent all their tears, resolutely silent, neither rising to those that came in, nor answering those who asked any question. The sick woman lay upon her bed, without any hope of life, with her frequent sighs, faintly breathing forth some few words, the effect of which was, that she desired to end her days.
Mr. Fox, when he had so many patients under his hands at once, left all other means of consolation but prayer. At length he told her, "That she should not only grow well of that consumption, but also live to an exceeding great age." At which, words the sick gentlewoman, a little moved, and earnestly beholding him: "As well might you have said," quoth she, " that if I should throw this glass against the wall; it would not break to pieces;" and holding a glass in her hand, out of which she had newly drank, she threw it forth; neither did the glass, first lighting on a chest, standing by the bed-side, and afterward on the ground, either break or crack in any place. And the event fell out accordingly. For the gentlewoman, being then threescore years of age, lived afterward many years, and was able, before the 90th year of her age, (for she lived longer,) to reckon three hundred and threescore of her children's children and grandchildren. Among which, at this day, (to wit, in the year of our Lord 1641, in which this book is set forth,) there liveth Mrs. Grace Hennage, the. daughter of the said Mrs. Honiwood, a gentlewoman of great worth, and the widow of an honorable gentleman, Mr. Michael Hennage; who affirmeth, that she was present at the same time this was done.
I could here relate many stories of like nature; but they, for the most part, are dead, who might justify the particulars. That which followeth is more commonly known, than that it should need to be confirmed by witnesses. Mr. Fox went one day, as his custom was, to see the Earl of Arundel, son to the Duke of Norfolk. The Earl'. when he was going away, brought him to the water-side, at the lower end of his garden; but observing the river very rough, on the sudden rising of the wind, he counselled him not to trust himself upon the waters. But he continuing in his resolution of going: " So, my Lord," quoth he, " let these waters deal with me, as I have in truth and sincerity delivered to you all that I have spoken." And with that entering into the boat, before they put off from the bridge, the wind ceased, and the river ran with a smooth stream,
Being often asked by his friends, why he had no more regard to the straitness of his estate, it being the first precept of charity to begin at home, his answer was, That GOD, by his covenant, had the charge of his affairs, who well knew both what was fit for him, and when to bestow it; and since He had never yet failed him, how could he doubt of him, without manifest ingratitude"
There want not some, who accuse Mr. Fox of injustice; which, because many are interested in it, I shall further inquire into.
In that part of his history, wherein he describes the troubles in the reign of Queen Mary, he has by name mentioned, not only the authors of those executions, but also many assistants, among whom were some persons of great note. This, some of their posterity complain to have been done unjustly; pleading, that the fatal necessity of those times ought not to be a scandal to them, or their posterity. I answer, the same excuse' of necessity, which they allege for their ancestors, ought to suffice on Mr. Fox's behalf; since he could no way leave the ministers nameless, but he should leave his adversaries occasion of cavilling.
I likewise think fit, that some answer should be made to the Papists, who affirm that he is a lying author. Is it then a lie, that Mr. Rogers, Archbishop Crannier, Bishop Hooper, Bishop Ridley, Bishop Latimer, and many others, were burned for their religion If this, even by their own confession, be true, what (I marvel) may those matters be, by whose falsehood the whole work has incurred the infamous title of a lye, as they make their followers believe At first they alleged mistakes in the names of such as suffered, or in the time of their suffering,•' but these were so well defended by the author, that, as long as he lived, no man exclaimed any more. But let us grant them somewhat. If I shall take quite out of the history all that they have said to be false, will they promise to suffer their followers to read the rest They will no more yield to this condition, than they will be contented to be quiet. What shall a man do to such men as are never satisfied, whether you grant what they plead for, or deny it
He always used among his friends a pleasant kind of familiarity, wherewith he seasoned the gravity and severity of his behavior.
Being asked at a friend's table, what dish he desired to begin his meal with, he answered, The last. Which word was taken, as if he meant some choicer dish, such as are usually brought for the second course; whereas he only signified the desire he had to see dinner ended, that he might depart home.
Going abroad, he met a woman, who pulling a book from under her arm, and saying, " See you not that I am going to a sermon" Mr. Fox replied, " Go home rather: for to-day you will do but little good at church. And when she asked, " At what time therefore he would counsel her td go" "Then," answered he, "when you tell no body before hand."
It happened at his own table, that a gentleman there spoke somewhat too freely against the Earl of Leicester. Which, when Mr. Fox heard, he commanded a bowl, filled with wine, to be brought him. Which being done " This bowl," quoth he, " was given me by the Earl of Leicester;" so stopping the gentleman, without reprehending him, When a young man, a little too forward, had, in the presence of many, said, " That he could conceive no reason, in the reading of the old authors, why men should so greatly admire them." " No marvel, indeed," quoth Mr. Fox, " for if you could conceive the reason, you would then admire them yourself."
At length, being full of years, and stored with friends, ere he had quite passed through his seventieth year, he died; not through any known disease, but through age. Yet did he foresee the time of his departure; nor would suffer his sons, (whom notwithstanding he entirely loved,) to be present at his death; but forbad the one to be sent for, and sent the other on a journey three days before he died; whether he thought them unable to bear so heavy a spectacle, or would not have his mind at that time troubled with any thing that might move him to desire life. This, to me and my brother, was the most grievous of all, that we could neither come to close his eyes, to receive his last blessing and exhortations, nor satisfy our minds with that last sight of him. Perchance we could with more patience have endured to see the approaches of his death, than to have lost in him so good an example how to die.
Upon the report of his death, the whole city lamented, honoring the small funeral which was made for him, with the concourse of a great multitude of people; as i among so many, each man had buried his own father or his. brother,