EXTRACTS
FROM
THE WORKS
OF
JOHN PRESTON, D.D.
CHAPLAIN IN ORDINARY TO HIS MAJESTY KING CHARLES 1:
Master of Emmanuel College in Cambridge,
and some time Preacher
of Lincoln's Inn.
TO WHICH IS PREFIXED,
SOME ACCOUNT OF HIS LIFE,
BY THE REV. MR. BALL.
VOL. 5:
THE LIFE
OF
DR. JOHN PRESTON.
JOHN PRESTON, the son of Thomas and
Alice Preston, was born at Heyford, in Northamptonshire. He was baptized October 27, 1587, but was descended from the
family of the Prestons, of Preston
in Lancashire.
His mother's maiden name was Marsh, but she had an uncle, whose name was
Creswel, a man of means and good esteem in Northampton,
where he had been several times mayor. This uncle, being rich, and having no
child, was very careful of her, and took this son, whilst he was young, unto
himself, and sent him to the free-school in Northampton; and when he had been
there some time, his uncle was persuaded to remove him into Bedfordshire, unto
one Mr. Guest, who was accounted a better teacher of the Greek tongue; from
whence, after he had perfected his studies in the Greek, he was sent to
Cambridge, and admitted of King's-College, in 16O4.
Two years after, he was persuaded to
remove to Queen's-College, where he was under the tuition of Mr. Oliver Bowles,
one of the fellows of that house, a very learned man, and a careful tutor, by
whose directions he grew in knowledge, and improved greatly in his studies. He
already looked high, and grew acquainted with those that had desires to be
secretaries, or agents in princes courts. He thought
it below him to be a minister, and accordingly got in with a merchant, by whose
means he procured that he should live in Paris,
and learn the language and garb of France;
and another gentleman, in recompence, should be
received and entertained in London,
to learn our garb and language. Mr. Creswel, of Northampton,
was by this time dead, and had bequeathed certain lands in that town to him.
These lands he sold, and put himself into a posture fit for that design; but
here he began to find that he should have said, "If the Lord will, I shall
live and do this or that," Jam. 4: 15, for the merchant died before the
exchange could be accomplished; and so these blooming hopes died with him.
He was of an able, firm
constitution, of a brown, comely visage, with a vigorous and vivid eye, but
some-what inclining to melancholy, which now began to be a little discovered in
him. For being disappointed in his-design, he grew discouraged, and retired.
His genius now led him to natural philosophy, wherein he resolved to leave no
secret unattempted. Aristotle was his tutelary
saint. No dark untrodden path in all his physics or
metaphysics but he was perfect in it; and so drowned and devoted was he, that
he seldom or never could be seen abroad, to the wonder of his former
companions; so that no time passed idle; not that between the ringing and
tolling of the bell to meals; and for his sleep, he made it short. And whereas
notwithstanding all endeavors, there was one in the college that would always
be up before him, he would let the bed-clothes hang down, that in the night
they might fall off, and so the cold awaken him; insomuch that his tutor was
con-strained to tell him, " As there might be intemperance in meats and drinks,
so also there might he in studies." But the evil of it, as yet, he felt
not, the sweet and good he did; came off with honor and applause in all his
acts; and was admired in the regent-house, when he sat for his degree, both by
the Posers and all the masters that examined him; and from that time much
observed through-out the university.
About this time his tutor was called
to the rectory of Sutton in Bedfordshire; and Dr. Potter, another of the
fellows, became his tutor, a very learned man, and great philosopher, who never
went to dissuade him from his studies, but gave him all assistance and
encouragement. Soon after, he was chosen fellow, by the unanimous con-sent of
the master and fellows; and his tutor, Dr. Potter, brought him word of it as he
was at study, not thinking any thing, and told him, that he must come down into
the chapel presently to be admitted; accordingly he was admitted fellow of
Queen's-College, in the year 16O9, five years after his first admission into
the university.
He was by this time grown a master
in philosophy, and had met with few that were able to encounter him; and
therefore now resolved to go another while to school to Hippocrates and Galen.
He had a very penetrating wit, and exact solid judgment, to conjecture at effects
in causes; and being skilful in philosophy before, soon made the theory his
own. But because the life and vigor of a science is in the practice, he
resolved to make inquiry after that. So he retired unto a friend of his in Kent,
who was very famous for his practice, where he earnestly studied the art of
knowing simples, and compounding medicines. And ever after, when any of his
pupils were ill, though he sent them unto physicians, yet himself
perused, and many times corrected their prescriptions.
It was not easy to allay his eager
and unsatisfied appetite and apprehension with any one art; hence he thought
he could not be a good physician, that could not read the powers of the herbs
and plants in stars and planets, and therefore acquainted himself with Ptolemy,
and other authors in astrology, and other curious arts and calculations, as
they are called, Acts xix. 19, that he might be able
to study, not only books, but men, and to read men's fortunes in the heavenly
bodies; but he could not read his own. For as he was in these celestial contem plations, it fell out that
Mr. Cotton, then fellow of Emmanuel-College, preached in St. Mary's, where Mr.
Preston hearing him, was set about another exercise, constrained from his
contemplations in astrology, to look into him-self. This sermon bereaved him of
two beloved notions; one was his low opinion of the ministry and preaching; for
he saw an over-ruling gravity and majesty in that sermon,
that he thought had not been in pulpits. An-other was, his great opinion
of state-employments; for these were higher things that now were offered to
him; concernments of eternal influence, which nothing could divert him from.
Mr. Preston after this wanted ease;
and when he could not find it in his other books, began a little to look into
the Bible. In the prosecution of his study in philosophy, he found many of the
schoolmen quoted, and so was willing to look a little into them; and finding
those he lit on pithy and sententious, went on. It gave him ease that he was
now a student in divinity, and had left Albumasar
and Guido, and such high-flown speculations; yet it pleased him to find his
master Aristotle so often quoted, and in such request among them; and he
thought if that were to be a preacher, he might adventure well enough upon it,
and so was drawn on very far in the study of the school-divines. I have heard
him say, There was nothing that ever Scotus or Occham wrote but he had
weighed and examined. He continued longer in Aquinas, whose sums he would
sometimes read as the barber cut his hair, and when it fell on the place he
read, he would not day down his book, but blow it off; and in this tune he
continued until a rumour came into the university
that the king would shortly come to visit them.
Dr. Harsnet,
Master of Pembroke-Hall,. was
then vice-chancellor, a prudent, well-advised governor, who knowing well the
critical and able apprehension of the king, was very careful and solicitous to
pitch upon the ablest in every faculty for actors in that solemn entertainment;
tand himself made choice of Mr.
Preston to answer the philosophy act. The king commended all the actors; but
above all, Mr. Preston. Many of the great ones did the same; and Sir Fulk Grevill, afterward Lord
Brook, after many demonstrations of his real love, settled at last a stipend on
him of fifty pounds a year, and was his friend unto his last hour.
His reputation now continually
increased, so that he was accounted the only tutor; and being careful to read
unto his pupils, and direct their studies, he found himself abridged of his own
time, and was constrained to take up the time that should have been bestowed on
his body. He grew acquainted now with many eminent ministers, as Mr. Dod, and Mr. Hildersham, who
would come often to his chamber, and he would get them many times to go to
prayer with his pupils, a boldness not adventured on by any other. But by these
labors his able body was debilitated. It was a great orator that said, " At first I would not plead, at last I could
not." Mr. Preston in his youth would not sleep, now he could not; but
about midnight still awoke, and slept no more; whereby in time his body
languished, and could not answer as in former times.
It was not
long before it came to Mr. Preston's course to be
dean and catechist, which he resolved to improve by going through a body of
divinity, that he might be a guide unto the scholars in their studies in
divinity. This being known, and some honest townsmen hearing him at first by
chance, there came the next day very many to hear him, and the next day more,
both townsmen and scholars from other colleges, so that the outward chapel
would be often full before the fellows came. Complaint was made to the
vice-chancellor of this unusual kind of catechising.
It was assured, that not only the townsmen and scholars mingled, but other
colleges intruded also, that the fellows, for the crowd, could not get through
and come to their places in the chapel; that it was not:safe for any man to be thus doted on, unless they
bad a mind to cry up Puritanism, which would in a short time pull them down.
An order was agreed on in the
consistory, and sent unto the college, that the scholars and townsmen should be
confined to their proper preachers; that no stranger, neither townsman nor
scholar, should presume to come unto these lectures, that were proper only for
the members of the college. The edict was observed punctually, and the
auditory by it much impaired. Had strangers still been suffered to attend,
those sermons had been printed; for there were divers that exactly noted, and
wrote out all fair, unto the time of this restraint; but no one after that
could go on with it, and so it rests. But he went on, and was assiduous to the
year's end, which was a great help unto many of his pupils, who made the
greater use of those things because they were not in print.
About that time the lecture at
Trinity-Church and the sermons at St. Andrew's were prohibited, and the
scholars all confined to St. Mary's; which occasioned Mr. Preston to read
divinity to his pupils on the Lord's-days, at three o'clock in the afternoon,
which he also often did upon the week-days; but the townsmen and the scholars
of other colleges, that had tasted of his spirit in the chapel, prayed that he
would do it where they might hear. Botolph's belongs
unto Queen's-College, and is usually supplied by one of that house; there he
was willing to make a trial, and resolved the next Lord's-Day to preach at
three o'clock, after St. Mary's sermon should be ended; which, though but very
little known, occasioned such a throng and crowd as was incredible.
There dwelt then in the parish one
Dr. Newcomb, a civilian, and commissary to the chancellor of Ely, who being in
the church, and seeing the crowd, commanded that evening-prayer should be read,
and no sermon preached. The minister entreated that for that time Mr. Preston
might preach; so did the Earl of Lincoln and others in the church; but he was
resolute: andbecause he would not be further
importuned, went away with all his family, and left them to determine at their
peril what they would do. So, upon advice, it was concluded that the sermon
should go on; and Mr. Preston preached upon 2 Pet. 3: 17, 18. There was so much
time spent in debates about it, before the commissary left the congregation,
that it was too late to do both, and therefore they adventured, for that time,
to forbear common-prayer, that so the scholars might depart, and be at
college-prayers. But this instructed Dr. Newcomb in his complaint. The court
was then near at hand, that is, at Newmarket.
Thither the commissary went the next day, and having the Bishop of Ely there,
and many other clergymen, assured them that Mr. Preston was in heart, and would
quickly be in practice, a Nonconformist, and was so followed in the university,
that unless some speedy course were taken with him, they might see their power
trodden under foot; and told them, gentleness was not the way, for he was
cunning, and would recover all, if he were not throughly
dealt with.
There was no advocate for Mr.
Preston; but the Doctor, being first in his own cause, seemed just. The
Puritans began to be considerable, and they doubted he might come in time to
head them. It is a great security to a man to be despised. But David, that has
a party following him, must have an army to attend him. The king was
acquainted with this complaint, and assured, that Mr. Preston had as strong an
influence on the Puritans, as the principal of the Jesuits had upon them, and
there-fore it behoved him to consider what to do. A
word was enough to a jealous king, who immediately inquired, whether the
bishop's and chancellor's jurisdiction extended unto members of a college, and
finally concluded to proceed against him by the power of the university.
A letter was then framed to Dr.
Scot, Master of Clare-Hall, Vice-Chancellor at that
time, and to the Heads, to call Mr. Preston before them, to give a strict
account of that disobedience to the commissary. He answered mildly, that he was
not guilty; referred himself unto the auditory, that evening prayer was
omitted, in order that the scholars might depart in due time; (seeing the time
allotted for it was spent in treating with the commissary,) not out of any
disrespect unto the service, which he him-self (lid usually attend at other
times. They told him, they were engaged to support, by all just means, the
bishop's jurisdiction: that the king had honored him, in leaving that affront
to be examined by his proper judges, and that except he could take off the
court, they must. proceed to a severe censure.
Mr. Preston was not altogether a
stranger at the court. When he came to Newmarket, he
found that Bishop Andrews, then bishop of Ely, was chief, and that his
jurisdiction in the commissary, was it that was pretended to be affronted;
therefore he applied himself to him, and told him, that he did not purpose to
offend, but being engaged to preach at that time, could not with honor
disappoint the auditory; if he suspected him for any thing, he desired he would
examine him, and satisfy himself. The bishop told him, the king was told he was
an enemy to forms of prayer, and held no prayer lawful but extemporary: and
therefore being popular, his judgment and opinion. might
do hurt. Mr. Preston answered, that it was a slander, for he thought set forms
lawful, and refused not to be present on all occasions at the College prayers,
and when it was his turn, to read them. The bishop answered, that he was glad,
and would inform the king, and do him all the good he could, and bade him wait
a while, and then repair again to him; and so time passed on, and there was
nothing done. But Dr. Young, dean of Winchester,
told, Mr. Preston plainly, that Bishop Andrews was his greatest adversary, and
though he gave him good words, yet assured the king, that if Mr. Preston was
not expelled the university, lord bishops would not long continue. Only because
Mr. Preston was accounted a learned man, he was not willing to appear against
him; but desired the punishment might be inflicted where the fact was done, and
that was in the university.
Mr. Preston saw now, that the bishop
was a courtier, and could give words, where deeds were not intended, and
therefore went again unto the bishop, and told him plainly, that he or none
must put a period to his attendance; and that either he should speak unto the
king in his behalf, or tell him plainly, that he would not. The bishop paused a
while, and at last bade him come such a time again, and he would deal with the
king in his behalf. So he went to the king, and told him that however Mr.
Preston was very dangerous, yet he doubted it would not be well to expel him;
for he would be absolved in the opinions of men, and applauded as their martyr.
And therefore he thought it would be better to enjoin him to declare his
judgment about forms of prayer; for that would be accounted a recantation, and
would weaken his reputation with the Puritans. Accordingly an order was sent to
the Vice-Chancellor, that Mr. Preston should in Botolph's
church declare his judgment, concerning forms of prayer, upon a certain Sunday.
Before he could come home, the news
was all about the town, that Mr. Preston was to preach a recantation sermon at Botolph's church on such a day. On that day there was a
very great assembly, though he did all he could to have concealed it. So he
went on upon his former text, and preached a very profitable sermon, concerning
growing in grace, and directed prayer, as a special means to make men grow in
grace. Now that. (he said)
was of two sorts, either that which was extemporary, or set and prescribed
before. And whereas some thought this was to stint the Spirit, he said, there
was a liberty to use conceived prayer at other times, wherein the Spirit might
enlarge itself. They that came to laugh, had no great cause to do it, for this
passage was at the very close; and the sermon all along before, was sharp and
searching; both sides were silent and went home, not without some prints of good upon their spirits.
Indifferent hearers praised all, and were confirmed in a good opinion of the
preacher. Good men were glad he came off so well, and was at liberty to preach
again.
King James had always something in
his writings and speeches against the Puritans, which was
ill taken, for that it was apparent, those meant thereby were conscientious
persons. The House of Commons was the only mote in King James's eye, the
remora, (as he conceived) unto his absolute dominion; for he knew not how to
engage them, as he did the lawyers and divines; but if he stopped one mouth
with preferment this parliament, there would be others open the next. There
were some now that adventured to apologize for Puritans, and to say in
parliament, that honest men were wounded under that name; and to propose, that
godly ministers might not be silenced, and thrown out of their freeholds for trifles
and ceremonies. But King James would not bear this; but broke up the
parliament, and set out proclamations against them.
The
chaplains that attended monthly at the court, were not
ambitious of preaching over often; and so a combination was agreed on for
preachers before the king, when-ever he should he within twelve miles of Cambridge.
By this means it came to Mr. Preston's turn to preach
before the king at Royston. He could not decline it; for that would have
exposed him unto too much observation; and yet he feared what might befal him in the doing of it.
When he was to preach, it fell out
that his course came upon a Tuesday. The court was very thin, and the prince
and Duke of Buckingham were both abroad, and the king himself was for a
hunting-match that day, and gave order that the sermon should begin at eight o'clock. Mr. Preston had some at the
court, that were solicitous as well as he, and they told him it would give very
great content, if he would take occasion in the sermon, to show his judgment,
as he had done before, about set forms. Dr. Young, Dean of Winchester, (of whom
we spoke before) did then attend, and when the king came in, he told him who it
was that was to preach, and said, he hoped he would give content: " I pray
God he may," said the king. The text was John 1: 16, which he so clearly
opened and applied, that the king sat all the while as quiet as could be, and
never stirred nor spoke to any body, but by his looks discovered he was
pleased. When Mr. Preston had done, he came to the king, as was usual, to kiss
his hand; and the king asked him of what Preston he was
descended, he answered of that in Lancashire. Then said
the king, " You have many of your name and
kindred very eminent; and Preston the priest, although a
papist, is a very learned man.
Great haste was made to bring in
dinner, and the king was very pleasant all the time; had his eye continually
upon Mr. Preston, and spoke of divers passages in the sermon with much content.
As soon as ever he was retired, the Marquis of Hamilton kneeled down, and
be-sought him, that he might commend the preacher to him for his chaplain,
protested he did not so much as know him, but that he was moved by the weight
and strength of what he had delivered: told him, he spoke no pen and ink-horn
language, but as one that comprehended what he said, and that he could not but
have substance and matter in him. The king acknowledged all, but said it was
too early.
There were few clergymen at court,
and so no opposition; yet the king himself hung back. He was not reconcilable
to the Puritans, and so desired not in that respect to
engage him; but he desired to deprive them of Mr. Preston, and to divide him
from them. With this view he was graciously received, and admitted chaplain in
ordinary to the prince. About this time, Dr. Dunn, preacher at Lincoln's
Inn, died, and some in that society proposed Mr. Preston
for the place. It suited with him, to have an opportunity to exercise his
ministry in a considerable and intelligent congregation, where he was assured,
many parliamentmen, and others of his best
acquaintance, would be his hearers; so he consented, and undertook the place.
The chapel then was very little, and at first, the numbers that attended on his
ministry, besides their own society, were few; but when the chapel was
new-built, the numbers were exceeding great that were his constant hearers, and
such foundations were laid, as will not easily be ruined.
This was some ease unto his mind,
that was grieved for Dr. Davenant's leaving the
college and university; but filled not his great capacity and large desire of
doing good. The college he gave over in his thoughts,
but not the university, where his preaching made great impressions. And though
at Lincoln's Inn
he had gownsmen to hear his doctrine; yet they were not likely to propagate and
spread it. A preacher in the university begets begetters, and transmits unto
posterity what God is pleased to reveal to him. And he of all men, thirsted
after opportunities of doing service, and might well say with the spouse, that " he was sick of love," Cant. 2: 5.
Some of the Fellows of Emmanuel
College were very eminent for parts and learning, yet clouded by an opinion
that lay upon the college, that they were Puritans; that is, not only godly and
religious, (for so they were, and were content to be esteemed) but
Nonconformists, and averse to government; they thought, therefore, if they
could prevail with Dr. Chaderton, their present
master, to resign, they might perhaps procure that Mr. Preston might succeed him,
and bring the college into reputation, being a good man, and yet a courtier,
the prince's chap-lain, and very gracious with the Duke of Buckingham. But the
old Doctor was exceeding wary and backward herein, till he received the
following letter from the Duke of Buckingham.
SIR,
"I HAVE
moved his Majesty concerning Mr. Preston's succeeding
of you in the mastership of Emmanuel College, who is not only willing, but also
graciously pleased to recommend him to the place in especial manner before any
other; so that in making this way for him, you shall do a very acceptable thing
to his Majesty, as also to the prince his master, of which I am likewise to
give you notice: and to put you out of all doubt, that another may be thrust
upon you; you shall not need to fear any thing, in regard that from his Majesty
there will be no hindrance to his succession; and for that point of supply of
maintenance, I shall (as I promised) take care for to procure it, when fit
occasion shall be offered: so taking kindly what you have done, I rest,
Your very
loving friend,
G.
BUCKINGHAM.
Theobalds, Sept. 2O, 1622,
Though the statute
ordain a vacancy of seven days, and notice by a schedule pasted upon the
chapel-door, yet such was the uniform agreement of all the fellows, that it was
not discovered to any of the scholars until the clay of election. And because
there is a sacrament to be immediately before it, they were constrained to lock
up all the gates, that none might come in or go out, till it was past; and then
two of the fellows were despatched to Queen's
College, to acquaint Dr. Preston with what they had done; and to desire, that
at two o'clock he would repair unto the college to be admitted, and undertake
the charge.
This was strange news at Queen's.
And there was an order given presently, that all the scholars should be ready
against two o'clock that day, to attend Mr. Preston, and the Fellows, to
Emmanuel College, in habits suitable unto their several qualities, which was
done accordingly; and a very great company attended him, from Queen's to
Emmanuel, where they were cheerfully received, and entertained according to the
custom; and then returned to Queen's, but left Mr. Preston, the prop and glory
of it, at Emmanuel's.
This news ran swiftly all the
kingdom over, and was received as men were affected. Good men were glad that
honest men were not abhorred as they had been at the court. The courtiers made
full account that he was theirs, and would mount up from one step to another,
until he was a prelate; especially the Duke of Bucking-ham, who, from this
time, seemed sincerely to affect him. The Earl of Pembroke, and the Countess of
Bedford, had a great interest in him,- and he in them;
and all men looked on him as upon a rising man, and respected him accordingly.
As for the members of Lincoln's-Inn, they reckoned that by their means
especially he rose to this honor, as having first expressed their good opinion
of him, and took occasion to express it, according to their several
dispositions and relations, when he came to them in the term, which shortly
followed.
About this time, Sir Arthur Chichester was chosen to go ambassador into Germany
about the Palatinate affairs, and Mr. Preston was, by
the Duke of Buckingham, and other friends, designed to go along with him. He
did not greatly fancy the employment, but would not contradict; only it was
considered, that though he was the prince's chaplain, and master of a college,
yet he was not doctor, which they thought might sound ill abroad; therefore a
mandate was addressed to the vice-chancellor and heads, that forasmuch as Mr.
Preston was to wait upon my lord ambassador, and could not in so short time
perform his’ acts, he should be forthwith admitted doctor in divinity, that he
might be ready to attend the service; which was done accordingly with all
alacrity. But the voyage came to nothing; for Sir Arthur did not go, as he
intended.
It was ever
his ambition not to be mercenary in the ministry, but to preach where he might
do most good, without respect to the wages; and he considered, that the master
of Emmanuel could have no living that had cure of souls annexed, and therefore
was willing to give ear unto the solicitations of the townsmen, who greatly pressed
him to be their lecturer at Trinity-church. After much opposition, he was
confirmed le, tm sr. where he preached all his time after, and did much good.
Death knocks alike at palaces, as at
the meanest cottages; for, on March
27, 1625, the Lord's-day, about ten
o'clock in the morning, King James died at Theobald's.
He was much beloved of his servants, as well as of his children, and was
greatly lamented of both. Indeed it was a very mournful morning. Dr. Preston
then at-tended in his month, and was sometimes hastened to the prince to
comfort him; and sometimes to the duke; for they were both of them retired, and
wept bitterly. But Sir Edward Conway, and some, of the lords, proclaimed
Charles Stuart king, and haste was made to London.
The prince and duke, and Dr. Preston, in coaches shut
down, hastened to Whitehall, and
there he was pro-claimed again, with much solemnity, and great rejoicing of the
people.
Not long after, the duke resolved to
drop Dr. Preston. The doctor was too knowing not to see this afar off; and had
accordingly provided a succession of reserves, wherein to hide’ himself. The
first and surest was his conscience, 2 Cor. 1: 12,
"This is our rejoicing, the testimony of our conscience, that in
simplicity and godly sincerity, not with fleshly wisdom, but by the grace of
GOD, we have had our conversation in the world." An undeniable argument
whereof was, that he never sued for the least preferment; but studied, and
often consulted how, without breaking, he might avoid them.
And though he lived like himself,
and gave relief to others, yet it was ever of his own. And indeed he was, a man
of very much communion and sweet society with God; prayed much in private, and
by himself, besides as tutor with his pupils, and after as master of his family.
Whatever weakness he was in, or business did occur, he kept many private days
of fasting by himself, especially before the
sacraments and sabbath-days; and accordingly enjoyed
a constant clearness and assurance of his justification, and interest in the
blood of CHRIST; even then, when frailties and infirmities did most of all
afflict him. He never, that I know, was troubled or perplexed about adoption,
though very often about the imperfection of his graces; so that he studied most
exactly the treatise of the Saints' Infirmities; and there is nothing in all
his works that may more properly be called his.
His next retreat was to Lincoln's-Inn.
For there was a resolution in some of the fellows to petition the duke, who was
now chancellor of the university, to annul the statute of continuance or commoration in the college; yet he conceived the lawyers
would pretend a kind of freedom and exemption. For he saw, when Dr. Sibs was outed, both of fellowship and lecture in the university,
yet he was received and retained at Gray's-Inn unto his death; therefore he
would in no sort leave his title unto, and interest in Lincoln's-Inn, but
reserved it in his power unto his dying day.
But he knew
kings had long hands, and that the duke's were nothing shorter; therefore he
pondered of removing farther off, if need were. And, having weighed all
retreats, resolved upon Basil, in the Switzer's country; and determined, in
case he could not be free in England,
to settle there, and spend the residue of his days in writing what he was not
suffered to preach, or had not published according to his mind.
He was
naturally very affable and courteous unto strangers of any country, and by
conversing much with them, endeavored to preserve his knowledge in the French
and Italian languages. After he had thus re-solved upon Basil, he was very
friendly to all the Germans that were dispersed from several universities,
especially from the Palatinate; for whom he procured
several sorts of entertainments, both in the country
abroad, and in the university; for which, as he had very
many gratulary epistles from particular persons, so
one from the king of Bohemia,
under his hand and seal.
But he knew that these were but the
foxes' earths, that might successively be taken and
possessed. He therefore trusted only in the name of the Lord, that is, the
goodness, mercy, and Bower of the mighty God; where he was well assured he
should for ever be free enough from kings and dukes.
There was in the county of
Northampton a gentleman of very able parts, and clear affections to the public
good, no stranger to the court in former times, nor to the Duke of Buckingham,
with whom the doctor used to communicate affairs, and who was then a
parliament-man of much esteem; to him the doctor in a letter discovers all,
shows him the posture of the duke, how much they both were deceived in him.
This letter was let fall, by him that was entrusted to convey it, about
Temple-Bar, and handed from one to another until it came to Sir Henry Spillers;
who, having pondered the contents, concluded it was a purchase that would ingratiate'
him unto the duke, and so immediately presented it to him.
The duke was
troubled to read his faults and fate so shrewdly intimated and presaged. His
temper was exceeding good, and he could manage his
affections many times with much serenity and moderation; but now he was quite
off, and could not think of any thing but revenge. But it pleased God to cut
the duke out other work; for the cry of Rochelle, and the Protestants of France, was so exceeding great, and so much resented by the
parliament, that the duke resolved to vindicate his honor by relieving them.
And whilst he was busy to set that fleet out, and furnish forces, be could not
undertake that revenge intended against Dr. Preston.
All this time the doctor's labor in
preaching and studying was exceeding great; but that which spent and wore him
out, was his troubles for the churches' safety and prosperity. Often he would
inculcate that, 2 Cor. 11:
28, " That which corneal upon me daily, the care of all the
churches." When his body therefore began to be sick and languish, he was
content a little to abate, and thought a country-house in some good air might
help, as formerly it had done; and accordingly took one at Linton, near the
hills, about six miles off, which he furnished, and purposed to be in all the
week, and come on Saturdays to preach on the Lord's-days; and, had this course
been taken time enough, good might have been done. But now he feared solicitude
would but be changed into solitude, the air of suitable converse, he doubted,
would be wanting there; and being alone, he saw, would too much gratify his
melancholy. The spring therefore approaching, he was willing to consult with
some physicians; and London being
far off, he sent to Bury for Dr. Despotine. His
present malady was want, of rest, which now tobacco would not help him to, as. formerly it had done; and therefore he proposed letting
blood. The doctor plainly told him, that might perhaps allay his heats, and
purchase sleep; but, on other ac-counts, it would be fatal to him. He was
enticed, not-withstanding, with the hopes of present ease, and so was let
blood, but never lived to repair that loss: for sinking more and more, he went
to London, and took advice of those that were best acquainted with his state of
health; by their advice he retired a little to Newington, to a friend of his
that lived there, and then to Hertfordshire, to a thinner and more penetrating
air.
The malady, they all agreed, was in
his lungs, which were not ulcerated neither, but obstructed and oppressed with
stiff and clammy matter that he could not void. Perspiration was what he
wanted, and they supposed a penetrating air might do the cure; but that was
found too
searching and corrosive for the other parts, which were
pervious enough and penetrable. He therefore thought upon Northamptonshire,
his native country. He had at Preston, four miles from Heyford,
a very dear and bosom-friend, that was ambitious of entertaining good men: old
Mr. Dod was but a mile off, and being invited
thither, he pitched upon it, where he enjoyed, with great contentment, what
air, converse of friends, and loving entertainment could afford, and at the
first was much refreshed by it; but nature being spent, and no foundation
being left to work upon, all his refreshing quickly flagged. He had before made
use of Dr. Ashworth, and he was one of much experience, and knew his body well;
therefore he thought of riding over to Oxford to him, which he did, and there
continued about twelve days; and consulted with such as were there of any note.
Dr. Ashworth was persuaded that the scurvy was his disease, and that the London
doctors had all mistook their mark, and therefore pitched upon applications
suitable: a great error for so experienced a doctor. The old man, upon this
persuasion, came over unto Preston with him, steeped and strained scurvy-grass,
and gave him drenches, able to have weakened a stronger man than he was now;
and having stayed and tampered with him about three weeks, and finding nothing
answer his expectation, he took his last leave of him, giving such order and
direction as he thought good, and returned to Oxford, July 9; 1628.
This fancy of the scurvy failing,
and Dr. Ashworth being gone, he resigned up himself to God alone, and let all
care of physic and the doctors go. He had a servant who had been laborious with
him, and whom he often used as a friend. To him he therefore now unbosomed, himself, not only touching the vanity and
emptiness of all things here below, but his own belief and expectation of a
sudden change; not of my company, (said he,) for I shall still converse with
God and saints, but of my place, and way of doing it. His will was made some
years before, but he was doubtful, if it came to be proved, it might be
baffled; and therefore purposed to wave it, and make a deed of gift to him,
that was in that will his executer, with such restrictions and limitations as
he thought good, all which he set down with his own hand, wherein he carefully
provided for his mother during life, and both his brothers. His books, and all
the furniture and goods in his lodgings at Emmanuel college,
he gave to one of his pupils that was fellow there, whom he always greatly
favored. Some exhibitions he gave to the scholars there, to be disposed of from
time to time, by him that was executer. And as he truly valued, so he liberally
rewarded, his servant's faithfulness. And having thus disencumbered himself of
worldly cares, he took care for the places he possessed, prayed for the college,
that it might continue a flourishing nursery of religion and learning; and that
God would furnish Lincoln's-Inn, from time to time, with able, preaching
ministers, and the lecture at Cambridge, that had cost so much trouble in the
procuring.
The night before he died, being
Saturday, he went to bed, and lay about three hours, desirous to sleep, but
slept not; then said he, " My dissolution is at band, let me go to my
home, and to JESUS CHRIST, who has bought me with his precious blood;" and
so lay still as in a slumber, till about two o'clock _ in the morning; then
drinking, and resting on his servant's arms, he fell into a cold and clammy
sweat; which he told them was the messenger of death: and so continued for
about two hours very silent. About four o'clock,
he said, " I feel death coming to my heart, my
pain shall now be quickly turned into joy." At this his friends were
called that were present in the house, who spoke unto him, but had no answer
from him as they were used to have. Then they all kneeled down, and a reverend
divine there pre-sent prayed. When prayer was ended, he looked on them, and
asked what day it was, and being answered, that it was the Sabbath-day, "A
fit day, (said he,) to be sacrificed on: I have accompanied saints on earth,
and now I shall accompany angels in heaven." Then turning away his head,
he presently gave up the ghost, being near 41 years of age. It was about five o'clock on the Lord's‑day, but to
him an everlasting Sabbath. He never (by his good will,) rested on that day, since
God was truly known to him, till now; God gave him therefore an everlasting
rest. No man deserved better funeral solemnities: but Mr. Dod
was much against it; and his friends at Cambridge, who did highly honor him,
and desired nothing more than to have waited on his dust unto his long home,
were now obliged to attend the election of another master: so he was buried
decently, but without state, in Fawsley church in Northamptonshire, July 2O, 1628. Mr. Dod, the minister of that place, preached a sermon on
that occasion to a vast congregation of serious people, who were there
assembled together.
THE
BREAST-PLATE
OF
FAITH AND LOVE;
OR,
THE GROUND AND EXERCISE OF FAITH AND LOVE,
As set upon CHRIST their object, and expressed in Good
Works, explained.
IN THREE PARTS.
BY JOHN PRESTON, D. D.
TO THE
CHRISTIAN READER.
CHRISTIAN
READER,
INNUMERABLE are the sleights of
SATAN to hinder a Christian in his course towards heaven, by exciting the
corruption of his own heart to disturb him, when he is about to do any good; or
by discouraging him with in-ward terrors, when he would solace himself with
heavenly comforts; or by disheartening him under the fears of sufferings, when
he should be resolute in a good cause. A type whereof were the Israelites,
whose servitude was redoubled, when they turned themselves to forsake Egypt:
wherefore we have much need of Christian fortitude, according to that
direction: " Watch ye, stand fast, quit
yourselves like men."
But as in wars, the chief strength
of the soldiers lieth in their captain, so in
spiritual conflicts, all a Christian's strength is in CHRIST, and from him.
For, before our conversion, we were of no strength: since our conversion, we
are not sufficient of ourselves to think a good thought. And, to work out from the
saints all self-confidence, GOD, by their falls, teacheth
them, " to rejoice in the Lord JESUS, and to have
no confidence in the flesh."
Whatsoever CHRIST has for us, is
made ours by faith, which is the hand of the soul, enriching it by receiving
CHRIST, who is " the treasure hid in the field," and with him, those unsearchable riches of grace, which are revealed and
offered in the gospel: yea, it is part of our spiritual armour.
That which was fabulously spoken of the race of giants, is truly said of a
Christian, he is born with his armour upon him; as
soon as he is regenerate, he is armed. It is called a breast Plate, because it
pre-serves the heart; a long, large shield, (as the word signifies) which is
useful to defend the whole man from all sorts of assaults which part of
spiritual armour, and how it is to be managed, is
declared in the two former parts of the ensuing treatise, which was delivered
in nine sermons.
Now as all rivers
return into the sea, whence they came, so the believing soul, having received
all from CHRIST, returneth all to CHRIST. For
thus the believer reasoneth: "
Was God's undeserved love such to me, that he spared not his
only-begotten Son, but gave him to die for me? It is but equal that I should
live to him, die for him, bring my strength, time, gifts, liberty, all that I
have, all that I am, into his service, to his glory." That
affection, whence these resolutions arise, is called Love, which so enclineth the soul, that it moveth
in a direct line towards God. And the perfection of our spirits cannot
but be in union with the Chief of spirits, who communicateth
his goodness to the creature, ac-cording to its capacity. This affection of
love, as it reflecteth upon CHRIST, being a fruit
and effect of his love to us apprehended by faith, is the subject of the third
part of this treatise, which was delivered in seven sermons,
The judicious author, out of a
piercing insight into the methods of the tempter, knowing upon what rocks the
faith of many suffers shipwreck; that neither the weak Christian might lose the
comfort of his faith, through want of evidences, nor the presumptuous rest upon
a fancy instead of faith, throughout the whole treatise, and more especially in
the last sermon, discourseth of good works, as they
arise from faith and love. This is the sum of the faithful and fruitful labors
of this reverend, learned, and godly minister of the gospel; who, whilst he
lived, was an example of the life of faith and love, and of good works, to so
many as were acquainted with his even walking with GOD, in the several turnings
and occasions of his life. But it will be too much injury to the reader to be
detained longer in the porch. We now dismiss thee to the reading of this
profitable work, beseeching God to increase thy faith, and to perfect love in
thy heart, that you may be fruitful in good works.
Thine in our
Lord JESUS CHRIST, RICHARD SIBS.
All Dr. Preston's Sermons were extemporary, and taken in short-hand
by those that heard them, from whose copies they are now printed.
