Edmund Bacon, in whose hearing the message was delivered, gave me secret signs of his utter unwillingness to give way to my further conferences: the issue whereof, since we were to pass further and beyond the bounds of that protection, might prove dangerous. I returned a mannerly answer of thanks to F. Baldwin; but, for any further conference, that it were bootless. I could not hope to convert him, and was resolved he should not alter me; and, therefore, both of us should rest where we were.

Departing from Brussels, we were for Namur and Liege. In the way we found the good hand of God, in delivering us from the danger of free-booters; and of a nightly entrance, amidst a suspicious convoy, into that bloody city.

Thence we came to the Spadane Waters: where I had good leisure to add a second Century of Meditations to those I had published before my journey.

After we had spent a just time at those medicinal wells, we returned to Liege; and, in our passage up the river Mosa, I had a dangerous conflict with a Sorbonist, a Prior of the Carmelites, who took occasion by our kneeling at the receipt of the Eucharist, to persuade all the company of our acknowledgment of a transubstantiation. I satisfied the cavil; shewing upon what ground this meet posture obtained with us. The man grew furious upon his conviction; and his vehement associates began to join with him, in a right-down railing upon our Church and Religion. I told them they knew where they were: for me, I had taken notice of the security of their laws, inhibiting any argument held against their religion established, and therefore stood only upon my defence; not casting any aspersion upon theirs, but ready to maintain our own: which though I performed in as fair terms as I might, yet the choler of those zealots was so moved, that the paleness of their changed countenances began to threaten some perillous issue, had not Sir Edmund Bacon, both by his eye and by his tongue, wisely taken me off. I subduced myself speedily from their presence, to avoid further provocation. The Prior began to bewray some suspicions of

my borrowed habit; and told them, that himself had a green satin suit once prepared for his travels into England: so as I found it needful for me, to lie close at Namur.

From whence travelling the next day towards Brussels in the company of two Italian Captains, Signior Ascanio Negro and another, whose name I have forgotten; who, enquiring into our nation and religion, wondered to hear that we had any baptism or churches in England; the congruity of my Latin, in respect of their perfect barbarism, drew me and the rest into their suspicion: so as I might overhear them muttering to each other, that we were not the men we appeared. Straight the one of them boldly expressed his conceit; and, together with this charge, began to enquire of our condition. I told him, that the gentleman he saw before us was the grandchild of that renowned Bacon, the great Chancellor of England, a man of great birth and quality; and that myself and my other companion travelled in his attendance to the Spa, from the train and under the privilege of our late ambassador: with which just answer I stopped their mouths.

Returning through Brussels, we came down to Antwerp, the paragon of cities: where my curiosity to see a solemn procession on St. John Baptist's Day might have drawn me into danger, through my willing unreverence, had not the hulk of a tall Brabanter, behind whom I stood in a corner of the street, shadowed me from notice.

Thence, down the fair river of Scheldt, we came to Flushing where, upon the resolution of our company to stay some hours, I hasted to Middleburgh, to see an ancient colleague. That visit lost me my passage. Ere I could return, I might see our ship under sail for England. The Master had with the wind altered his purpose; and called aboard with such eagerness, that my company must either away, or undergo the hazard of too much loss. I looked long after them in vain; and, sadly returning to Middleburgh, waited long, for an inconvenient and tempestuous passage.

After some year and half, it pleased God inexpectedly to contrive the change of my station.

My means were but short at Halsted; yet such as I oft professed, if my then patron would have added but one ten pounds by year, which I held to be the value of my detained due, I should never have removed. One morning, as I lay in my bed, a strong motion was suddenly glanced into my thoughts of going to London. I arose, and betook me to the way. The ground, that appeared of that purpose, was to speak with my patron Sir Robert Drury; if, by occasion of the public preachership of St. Edmund's Bury then offered me upon good conditions, I might draw him to a willing yieldance of that parcel of my due maintenance, which was kept back from my not over-deserving predecessor: who, hearing my errand, dissuaded me from so ungainful a change, which had it been to my sensible advantage, he should have readily given way unto; but not offering me the expected encouragement of my continuance.

With him I stayed, and preached on the Sunday following. That day Sir Robert Drury, meeting with the Lord Denny, fell belike into the commendation of my sermon. That religious and noble Lord had long harboured good thoughts concerning me, upon the reading of those poor pamphlets, which I had formerly published; and long wished the opportunity to know me. To please him in this desirė, Sir Robert willed me to go and tender my service to his Lordship; which I modestly and seriously deprecated: yet, upon his earnest charge, went to his Lordship's gate; where I was not sorry to hear of his absence.

Being now full of cold and distemper in Drury-lane, I was found out by a friend, in whom I had formerly no great interest, one Mr. Gurrey, tutor to the Earl of Essex. · He told me how well my Meditations were accepted at the Prince's Court; and earnestly advised me to step over to Richmond, and preach to his Highness. I strongly

* Prince Henry.

pleaded my indisposition of body, and my inpreparation for any such work; together with my bashful fears, and utter unfitness for such a presence. My averseness doubled his importunity in fine, he left me not, till he had my engagement to preach the Sunday following at Richmond. He made way for me to that awful pulpit; and encouraged me by the favour of his Noble Lord, the Earl of Essex. I preached. Through the favour of my God, that sermon was not so well given, as taken: insomuch as that Sweet Prince signified his desire to hear me again the Tuesday following. Which done, that labour gave more contentment than the former: so as that Gracious Prince both gave me his hand and commanded me to his service.

My patron, seeing me, upon my return to London, looked after by some great persons, began to wish me at home; and told me, that some or other would be snatching me up. I answered, that it was in his power to prevent: would he be pleased to make my maintenance, but so competent as in right it should be, I would never stir from him. Instead of condescending, it pleased him to fall into an expostulation of the rate of competencies; affirming the variableness thereof, according to our own estimation, and our either raising or moderating the causes of our expences. I shewed him the insufficiency of my means that I was forced to write books to buy books. Shortly, some harsh and unpleasing answer so disheartened me, that I resolved to embrace the first opportunity of my remove.

Now, while I was taken up with these anxious thoughts, a messenger (it was Sir Robert Wingfield of Northampton's son) came to me from the Lord Denny, now Earl of Norwich, my after-most-honourable patron, entreating me from his Lordship to speak with him. No sooner came I thither, than, after a glad and noble welcome, I was entertained with the earnest offer of Waltham. The conditions were, like the mover of them, free and bountiful. I received them, as from the munificent hand of my God;

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and returned, full of the cheerful acknowledgments of a gracious providence over me.

Too late now did my former Noble Patron relent; and offer me those terms, which had, before, fastened me for

ever.

I returned home, happy in a new master, and in a new patron: betwixt whom, 1 divided myself and my labours, with much comfort and no less acceptation.

In the second year of mine attendance on his Highness, when I came for my dismission from that monthly service, it pleased the Prince to command me a longer stay; and, at last, upon mine allowed departure, by the mouth of Sir Thomas Challoner, his Governour, to tender unto me a motion of more honour and favour than I was worthy of: which was, that it was his Highness' pleasure and purpose, to have me continually resident at the Court as a constant attendant, while the rest held on their wonted vicissitudes: for which purpose, his Highness would obtain for me such preferments, as should yield me full contentment. I returned my humblest thanks, and my readiness to sacrifice myself to the service of so gracious a master; but, being conscious to myself of my unanswerableness to so great expectation, and loth to forsake so dear and noble a patron who had placed much of his heart upon me, I did modestly put it off, and held close to my Waltham : where, in a constant course, 1 preached a long time, as I had done also at Halsted before, thrice in the week; yet never durst I climb into the pulpit to preach any sermon, whereof I had not before, in my poor and plain fashion, penned every word in the same order, wherein I hoped to deliver it; although, in the expression, I listed not to be a slave to syllables.

In this while, my worthy kinsman, Mr. Samuel Barton, Archdeacon of Gloucester, knowing in how good terms I stood at Court, and pitying the miserable condition of his native Church of Wolverhampton, was very desirous to engage me in so difficult and noble a service, as the re