the Prince in their country, nor done anything to break his match elsewhere; I answered that the Prince was more dexterous than that any secret practice of theirs could be put upon him; and as for violence, I thought the Spaniards durst not offer it.

The war against those of the religion continuing in France, Père Séguerend, confessor to the king, made a sermon before his majesty on the text-That we should forgive our enemies; upon which argument, having said many good things, he at last distinguished forgiveness, and said: We were indeed to forgive our enemies, but not the enemies of God; such as were heretics, and particularly those of the religion; and that his Majesty, as the most Christian king, ought to extirpate them wheresoever they could be found. This particular being related to me, I thought fit to go to the Queen-mother without further ceremony, for she gave me leave to come to her chamber whensoever I would, without demanding audience, and to tell her that though I did not usually intermeddle with matters handled within their pulpits, yet because Père Séguerend, who had the charge of the King's conscience, had spoken so violently against those of the religion, that his doctrine was not limited only to France, but might extend itself in its consequences beyond the seas, even to the dominions of the King my master; I could not but think it very unreasonable, and the rather that as her Majesty well knew that a treaty of marriage betwixt our Prince and the Princess her daughter was now begun, for which reason I could do no less than humbly desire that such doctrines as these henceforth might be silenced by some discreet admonition, she might please to give to Père Séguerend, or others that might speak to this purpose. The Queen, though she seemed very willing to hear me, yet handled the business so, that Père Séguerend was together informed who had made this complaint against him, whereupon also he was so distempered, that by one Monsieur Gaellac, a Provençal, his own countryman, he sent me this message; that he knew well who had accused him to her Majesty, and that he was sensible thereof; that he wished me to be assured, that wheresoever I was in the world, he would hinder my fortune. The answer I returned by Monsieur Gaellac was, that nothing in all France but a friar or a woman durst have sent me such a message.

Shortly after this, coming again to the Queen-mother, I told her that what I had said concerning Père Séguerend was spoken

with a good intention, and that my words were now discovered to him in that manner, that he sent me a very affronting message, adding after a merry fashion these words, that I thought Séguerend so malicious, that his malice was beyond the malice of women; the Queen, being a little startled hereat, said: A moy femme, et parler ainsi? to me a woman and say so? I replied gently; Je parle a votre majesté comme reyne, et non pas comme femme; I speak to your Majesty as a Queen, and not as a woman, and so took my leave of her. What Père Séguerend did afterwards, in the way of performing his threat, I know not; but sure I am, that had I been ambitious of worldly greatness, I might have often remembered his words, though as I ever loved my book and a private life, more than any busy preferments, I did frustrate and render vain his greatest power to hurt me.

My book, De veritate prout distinguitur a revelatione verisimili, possibili, et a falso, having been begun by me in England, and formed there in all its principal parts, was about this time finished; all the spare hours which I could get from my visits and negociations, being employed to perfect this work, which was no sooner done, but that I communicated it to Hugo Grotius, that great scholar, who, having escaped his prison in the Low Countries, came into France, and was much welcomed by me and Monsieur Tielenus also, one of the greatest scholars of his time, who, after they had perused it, and given it more commendations than is fit for me to repeat, exhorted me earnestly to print and publish it; howbeit, as the frame of my whole book was so different from anything which had been written heretofore, I found I must either renounce the authority of all that had written formerly concerning the method of finding out truth, and consequently insist upon my own way, or hazard myself to a general censure concerning the whole argument of my book; I must confess it did not a little animate me, that the two great persons above mentioned did so highly value it, yet as I knew it would meet with much opposition, I did consider whether it was not better for me a while to suppress it. Being thus doubtful in my chamber, one fair day in the summer, my casement being opened towards the south, the sun shining clear, and no wind stirring, I took my book, De Veritate, in my hand, and kneeling on my knees, devoutly said these words :

"O Thou eternal God, Author of the light which now shines upon me, and Giver of all inward illuminations, I do beseech

Thee, of Thy infinite goodness, to pardon a greater request than a sinner ought to make; I am not satisfied enough whether I shall publish this book, De Veritate; if it be for Thy glory, I beseech Thee give me some sign from heaven; if not, I shall suppress it."

I had no sooner spoken these words, but a loud though gentle noise came from the heavens, for it was like nothing on earth, which did so comfort and cheer me, that I took my petition as granted, and that I had the sign I demanded, whereupon also I resolved to print my book. This, how strange soever it may seem, I protest before the Eternal God is true, neither am I any way superstitiously deceived herein, since I did not only clearly hear the noise, but in the serenest sky that ever I saw, being all without cloud, did to my thinking see the place from whence it came.

And now I sent my book to be printed in Paris at my own cost and charges, without suffering it to be divulged to others than to such as I thought might be worthy readers of it; though afterwards reprinting it in England, I not only dispersed it among the prime scholars of Europe, but was sent to not only from the nearest but furthest parts of Christendom, to desire the sight of my book, for which they promised anything I should desire by way of return; but hereof more amply in its place.

The treaty of a match with France continuing still, it was thought fit for the concluding thereof, that the Earl of Carlisle and the Earl of Holland should be sent Extraordinary Ambassadors to France. (From the Life, last pages.)

JOHN HALES

[John Hales was born at Bath in 1584.

From the Grammar School there he passed to Cambridge at the age of thirteen, and took the degree of B. A. Remarkable learning and philosophic acumen secured him a Fellowship at Merton, and, having gained distinction by his private lectures in Greek, he became Public Lecturer in the same language to the University in 1612. The following year, having been for some time in orders, he delivered a funeral oration in Latin on Sir Thomas Bodley, which was his first and only publication. The same year, he was elected a Fellow of Eton. In 1618, Hales attended the Synod of Dort, as reporter of the proceedings to Sir Dudley Carleton, English ambassador to the Hague, whose chaplain he was at the time. The speech of Episcopius, the Arminian leader there, according to Farindon, led Hales to bid John Calvin good night.' He retired to Eton on his Fellowship in 1619, and from that time till his death in 1656, he lived a hermit's life, visiting London but seldom, although his company was much desired in Ben Jonson's "Apollo." He formed a fine collection of books, and enjoyed the reputation of great learning. Laud made him a canon of Windsor in 1629. Two years later, however, he was deprived by the Parliamentary Committee, and, in 1649, he lost his Fellowship. He was able, however, to support himself and other deprived scholars till his death, out of the proceeds of the sale of his library.]

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AMONG the English rationalists of the seventeenth century, the ever memorable" John Hales of Eton is in a manner overshadowed by the greater figure which Falkland makes in history; his memory suffers, in comparison even with Chillingworth's, in consequence of his extreme reticence. Yet in strict temporal sequence, Hales precedes both in the line of spiritual descent from Colet, Cranmer, and Hooker. And he yields to neither-who, though much younger men, predeceased him—in scholarship, or in clearness of mental vision. The materials for an estimate of Hales are, indeed, scanty. himself published nothing but his funeral oration Thomas Bodley. His Works in three volumes, which Lord Hailes edited in 1765, contain, besides merely occasional tracts, including the famous On Schism and Schismaticks,

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