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Extracts From The Works Of Rev. John Preston, D.D., Part I. Of Faith

 

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.