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Life of Dr. H. Hammond
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Genre
Religious Biography
Date
1661
Full Title
The life of The most Learned, Reverend, and Pious Dr H. Hammond.
Source
Wing F617
The original format is octavo.
The original contains new paragraphas are introduced by indentation,first paragraphas are introduced by decorated initial,contains elements such as italics,
THE LIFE OF The most Learned, Reverend and Pious DR H. HAMMOND.
DOctor Henry Hammond,whose Life is now attempted
to be written,
was born upon
the 18 of August in the year 1605.
at Chersey in Surrey, a place formerly
of remark for J. Cæsar's supposed
A2
1
passing his Army there overthe Thames, in his Enterprise
upon this Island, as also for the
entertainment of Devotion in its
earliest reception by our Saxon
Ancestors; and of later years,
for the Charity of having given
burial to the equally pious and
unfortunate Prince King Hen. VI.
He was the youngest Son of
Dr John Hammond Physician to
Prince Henry, and from that great
favourer of meriting servants and
their relations, had the honor at
the Font to receive his Christian
Name.
Being yet in his long Coats,
which heretofore were usually
worn beyond the years of Infancy;
he was sent to Eaton
School; where his pregnancy having
2
been advantag'd by themore then paternal care and industry
of his Father who was
an exact Critick in the learned
Languages, especially the Greek,
whereof he had been publick
Professor in the University of
Cambridge became the observation
of those that knew him: for
in that tenderness of age he was
not onely a Proficient in Greek
and Latine, but had also some
knowledge in the Elements of
Hebrew: in the later of which
Tongues, it being then rarely
heard of even out of Grammar
Schools, he grew the Tutor of
those who begun to write themselves
men, but thought it no
shame to learn of one whose
knowledge seem'd rather infus'd
A3
3
then acquir'd; or in whomthe learned Languages might
be thought to be the Mother-Tongue.
His skill in Greek
was particularly advantag'd by
the conversation and kindness
of Mr Allen, one of the Fellows of
the College, excellently seen in
that Language, and a great assistant
of Sr Henry Savile in his
magnificent edition of St Chrysostome.
His sweetness of Carriage is
very particularly remembred by
his contemporaries, who observ'd
that he was never engag'd upon
any occasion into fights or quarrels;
as also that at times allowed
for Play, he would steal from his
fellows into places of privacy,
there to say his prayers: Omens of
4
his future pacifick temper andeminent Devotion.
At Thirteen years old he was
thought, and what is much more
rare was indeed ripe for the University,
and accordingly sent to
Magdalen College in Oxford,
where not long after he was
chosen Demie; and though he
stood low upon the rolle, by a
very unusual concurrence of providential
Events, happen'd to
be sped: and though having
then lost his Father, he became
destitute of the advantage which
potent recommendation might
have given, yet his merit voting
for him, as soon as capable, he
was chosen Fellow.
Being to proceed Mr of Arts,
he was made Reader of the natural
A4
5
Philosophy Lecture in theCollege, and also was employed
in making the Funeral Oration
on the highly-meriting President
DR Langton.
Having taken his Degree, he
presently bought a Systeme of
Divinity, with design to apply
himself straightway to that study:
but upon second thoughts he return'd
for a time to Humane
Learning, and afterwards, when
he resum'd his purpose for Theology,
took a quite different
Course of reading from the other
too much usual, beginning that
Science at the upper end, as conceiving
it most reasonable to
search for primitive Truth in the
primitive Writers, and not to suffer
his Understanding to be prepossest
6
by the contrived and interessedSchemes of modern, and
withall obnoxious, Authors.
Anno 1629. being twenty
four years of age, the Statutes of
his House directing, and the Canons
of the Church then regularly
permitting it, he entred into
Holy Orders, and upon the same
grounds not long after took the
degree of Bachelor in Divinity,
giving as happy proof of his proficiency
in Sacred, as before he
had done in Secular knowledge.
During the whole time of his
abode in the University he generally
spent 13 hours of the day
in Study; by which assiduity,
besides an exact dispatch of the
whole Course of Philosophy, he
read over in a manner all Classick
7
Authors that are extant;and upon the more considerable
wrote, as he passed, Scholia and
critical emendations, and drew
up Indexes for his private use at
the beginning and end of each
book: all which remain at this
time, and testify his indefatigable
pains to as many as have perus'd
his Library.
In the year 1633. the Reverend
Dr Frewen, the then President
of his College, now Lord Archbishop
of York, gave him the
honor to supply one of his courses
at the Court; where the right
Honorable the Earl of Leicester
happening to be an Auditor, he
was so deeply affected with the
Sermon, and took so just a measure
of the merit of the Preacher
8
thence, that the Rectory of Pensehurstbeing at that time void, and
in his gift, he immediately offer'd
him the presentation: which
being accepted, he was inducted
on the 22 of August in the same
year; and thenceforth from the
Scholastick retirements of an
University life, applied himself
to the more busy Entertainments
of a rural privacy, and what
some have call'd the being buried
in a Living: and being to leave
the House, he thought not fit
to take that advantage of his
place, which from Sacrilege or
selling of the Founders Charity,
was by custome grown to be prudence
and good husbandry.
In the discharge of his Ministerial
function, he satisfied not
9
himself in diligent and constantPreaching only; a performance
wherein some of late have phansied
all Religion to consist but
much more conceived himself
obliged to the offering up the
solemn daily Sacrifice of Prayer
for his people, administring the
Sacraments, relieving the poor,
keeping Hospitality, reconciling
of differences amongst Neighbours,
Visiting the sick, Catechising
the youth.
As to the first of these, his
Preaching, 'twas not at the ordinary
rate of the Times, an unpremeditated,
undigested effusion
of shallow and crude conceptions;
but a rational and just
discourse, that was to teach the
Priest as well as the Lay-hearer.
10
His Method was which likewisehe recommended to his
friends after every Sermon to resolve
upon the ensuing Subject;
that being done, to pursue the
course of study which he was
then in hand with, reserving the
Close of the Week for the provision
for the next Lords-day.
Whereby not only a constant
progress was made in Science,
but materials unawares were
gain'd unto the immediate future
Work: for, he said, be the
Subjects treated of never so distant,
somewhat will infallibly
fall in conducible unto the present
purpose.
The offices of Prayer he had in
his Church, not only upon the
Sundayes and Festivals and their
11
Eves, as also Wednesdayes andFridayes, according to the appointment
of the Rubrick; which
strict duty and ministration
when 'tis examined to the bottome
will prove the greatest objection
against the Liturgy; as
that which, besides its own trouble
and austerity, leaves no leisure
for factious and licentious
meetings at Fairs and Markets
but every day in the week, and
twice on Saturdayes and Holyday
Eves: For his assistance
wherein he kept a Curate, and
allow'd him a comfortable Salary.
And at those Devotions he
took order that his Family should
give diligent and exemplary attendance:
which was the easilier
perform'd, it being guided by
12
his Mother, a woman of ancientVertue, and one to whom he paid
a more then filial Obedience.
As to the Administration of the
Sacrament, he reduced it to an
imitation, though a distant one, of
Primitive frequency, to once a
moneth, and therewith its anciently
inseparable Appendant,
the Offertory: wherein his instruction
and happily-insinuating
Example so farre prevail'd, that
there was thenceforth little need
of ever making any taxe for the
poor. Nay, if the report of a
sober person, born and bred up in
that Parish, be to be believ'd in
short time a stock was rais'd to
be alwaies ready for the apprentising
of young Children, whose
Parents condition made the provision
13
for them an equal Charityto both the Child and Parent. And
after this there yet remain'd a
Superplusage for the assistance of
the neighbour Parishes.
For the Relief of the Poor, besides
the foremention'd Expedient,
wherein others were sharers
with him, unto his private
Charity, the dedicating the tenth
of all receits, and the daily Alms
given at the door; he constantly
set apart over and above every
week a certain rate in money:
and however rarely his own rent-dayes
occurr'd, the indigent had
two and fifty quarter-dayes returning
in his year. Yet farther, another
Art of Charity he had, the
selling Corn to his poor Neighbours
at a rate below the Market-price:
14
which though, as he said,he had reason to do, gaining thereby
the charge of portage; was a
great benefit to them, who besides
the abatement of price, and
possibly forbearance, saved thereby
a dayes-work.
He that was thus liberall to
the necessitous poor, was no
less hospitable to those of better
quality: and as at other times he
frequently invited his Neighbours
to his table, so more especially
on Sundayes; which seldome
past at any time without bringing
some of them his guests: but
here beyond the Weekly treatments,
the Christmas Festival had
a peculiar allowance to support
it. He knew well how much the
application at the Table inforc'd
B
15
the doctrines of the Pulpit, andhow subservient the endearing of
his person was to the recommending
his instructions, how far
upon these motives our Saviour
thought fit to eat with publicans
and sinners, and how effectual
the loaves were to the procuring
of Disciples.
As by publick admonition he
most diligently instill'd that great
fundamental doctrine of Peace
and Love, so did he likewise in
his private address and conversation,
being never at peace in himself,
till he had procur'd it amongst
his Neighbours; wherein God
so blest him, that he not onely
attain'd his purpose of uniting
distant parties unto each other,
but, contrary to the usual fate of
16
reconcilers, gain'd them to himself:there having been no person
of his function any where
better beloved then he when present,
or lamented more when
absent, by his flock. Of which
tender and very filial affection, in
stead of more, we may take two
instances: the one, that he being
driven away, and his books plunder'd,
one of his Neighbours
bought them in his behalf, and
preserved them for him till the
end of the War: the other, that
during his abode at Pensehurst
he never had any vexatious law
dispute about his dues, but had
his Tithes fully paid, and not of
the most refuse parts, but generally
the very best.
Though he judged the time
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17
of Sickness an improper seasonfor the great Work of Repentance;
yet he esteemed it a most
useful preparative, the voice of
God himself exhorting to it: and
therefore not only when desir'd
made his Visits to all such as
stood in need of those his charities,
but prevented their requests
by early and by frequent coming
to them. And this he was so careful
of, that after his remove
from Pensehurst, being at Oxford,
and hearing of the Sickness of
one of his Parishioners, he from
thence sent to him those instructions
which he judg'd useful
in that Exigent, and which he
could not give at nearer distance.
And having mention'd the
name of Friend, however incidentally,
we must not leave it without
homage; Friendship being
18
the next sacred thing unto Religionin the apprehensions of our
Excellent Doctor, a Vertue of
which he was a passionate lover,
and with which he ever
seem'd to have contracted Friendship.
The union of Minds thereby
produc'd he judg'd the utmost
point of humane Happiness, the
very best production that Nature
has in store, or grows from earth.
So that with compassion he reflected
on their ignorance who
were strangers to it, saying that
such must needs lead a pitiful insipid
herb-John-like life.
Upon this ground he us'd
with all industrious art to recommend
and propagate Friendship
unto others; and where he
saw several persons that he judg'd
19
capable of being made acquaintedto mutual advantage, he
would contrive that league; and
where himself had kindness unto
any so allied, he would still enjoyn
them to be kinder to each
other then to him; besides, he
still labour'd to make all his
friends endear'd to each of them;
resolving it to be an Errour bottom'd
on the common narrowness
of Soul which represented
Amity like sensual love, to admit
no rivals, confin'd unto two
persons.
When he ever happen'd to see
or be in company with such as
had an intimate and hearty kindness
for each other, he would be
much transported in the contemplation
of it, and where it was
20
seasonable, would openly acknowledgethat his satisfaction.
In the list and number of his
Friends there chanc'd to be three
persons, who having in their
youth contracted a strict intimacy,
had undertaken the same
profession; and accordingly had
the same common studies and designments,
and with these the opportunity
through the late Troubles
to live in view of each other:
whom for that reason he was us'd
with an obliging envy to pronounce
the most happy men the Nation
had.
Accordingly he profest that for
his particular he had no such way of
enjoying any thing as by reflexion
from the person whom he loved: so
21
that his friends being happy was thereadiest way to make him so. Therefore
when one eminently near to
him in that relation was careless
of health, his most pressing argument
was his complaint of unkindness
to him. And this way
of measuring felicities was so natural
to him, that it would occur
even in the most trivial instances;
when there has been
any thing at the Table peculiarly
wholesome in relation to his infirmities,
if his Friend, who was
in a like weak condition, forbare
to eat of it in civility to him, he
would with vehemence of grief
resent it as his singular unhappiness
after so many professions
not to be believed, that he had a
thousand times rather that his friend
22
should have that which was conducibleto health, then to have it himself; and
then assum'd, that if this were believ'd,
it were impossible any one should
attempt to express kindness by robbing
him of his greatest pleasure.
The principal thing he contracted
for in Friendship was a
free use of mutual admonition;
which he confin'd not to the
grosser guilts which enemies and
common same were likely to observe
and minde men of, but extended
it unto prudential failings,
indecencies, & even suspicious
and barely doubtful actions: nay
beyond that, unto those vertuous
ones which might have been improv'd
and render'd better. He
was us'd to say, it was a poor designe
of Friendship to keep the person
23
he admitted to his breast onely frombeing scandalous, as if the Physician
should endeavour onely to secure his patient
from the Plague. And what he
thus articled for, he punctually
himself perform'd, and exacted
back again to be returned unto
himself.
And if for any while he observ'd
that no remembrance had
been offer'd to him, he grew
afraid and almost jealous of the
omission, suspecting that the
Courtier had supplanted the
Friend, and therefore earnestly
inforc'd the obligation of being
faithful in this point: and when
with much adoe somewhat of
advertisement was pick'd up, he
receiv'd it alwayes as huge kindeness;
and though the whole
I
24
ground of it happen'd to be mistake,yet he still return'd most
affectionate thanks.
His good will when plac'd on
any was so fix'd and rooted, that
even supervening Vice, to which
he had the greatest detestation
imaginable, could not easily remove
it, the abhorrencie of their
Guilts leaving not onely a charity
but tenderness to their Persons;
and, as he has profest, his concernment
rather encreas'd then
lessened by this meanes, compassion
being in that instance added
unto love. There were but
two things which he would say
were apt to give check to his affections,
Pride and Falseness;
where he saw these predominant,
he thought he could never be a
25
friend to any purpose, because hecould never hope to do any good;
yet even there he would intend his
Prayers, so much the more by
how much the less he could doe
besides. But where he saw a
malleable honest temper, a Jacob's
plain simplicity, nothing
could there discourage him; and
however inadvertency or passion,
or haply some worse ingredient,
might frustrate his design,
he would attend the mollia
tempora, as he call'd them, those
gentle and more treatable opportunityes
which might at last be
offer'd. He so much abhorr'd artifice
and cunning, that he had
prejudice to all concealments
and pretensions. He us'd to say
he hated a Non-causa, and he
I2
26
had a strange sagacity in discoveringit. When any with much
circumlocution and contrivance
had endeavour'd to shadow
their main drift and purpose, he
would immediately look through
all those mists, and where 'twas
in any degree seasonable, would
make it appear he did so: His
charity of fraternal correption
having onely this caution or restraint,
the hearer's interest, of
which he judg'd, that when advice
did not doe good, 'twas hardly
separable from doing harm;
and on this ground sometimes
he did desist. But wheresoe're
he gave an admonition, he prefac'd
it alwaies with such demonstrations
of tenderness and
good will as could not fail to
27
convince of the affectionate kindnesswith which 'twas sent,
though it could not of the convenience
or necessity to embrace
it. And this he gave as a general
rule, and enforc'd by his Example,
never to reprove in anger, or
the least appearance of it. If the
passion were real, that then was
evidently a fault, and the guilty
person most unfit to be a judg:
if it were resemblance onely, yet
even that would be so like to
guilt, as probably to divert the
offender from the consideration
of his failance to fasten on his
Monitor, and make him think
he was chid not because he was
in fault, but because the other
was angry.
Indeed the person who would
I3
28
not be some way mov'd with hisadvices must be strangely insensate
and ill-natur'd. Though his
Exhortations had as much evidence
and weight as words could
give them, he had over and above
a great advantage in his manner
of speaking: His little phrase,
Don't be simple, had more power
to charm a passion then long
harangues from others; and very
many who lov'd not Piety in
it self, nor to be troubled with
the news of it, would be well
pleas'd to be invited and advis'd
by him, and venerated the same
matter in his language which
they have derided in anothers.
He would say, he delighted to
be loved, not reverenc'd; thinking
that where there was much of the
29
later, there could not be enoughof the former; somewhat of restraint
and distance attending on
the one, which was not well consistent
with the perfect freedome
requisite to the other. But as he
was thus no friend to ceremonious
respect, he was an open enemy
to Flattery, especially from a
Friend, from whom he started
to meet the slightest appearance
of that servile kindeness. Having
upon occasion communicated a
purpose against which there happen'd
to lye some objections, they
being by a friend of his represented
to him, he immediately was
convinc'd, and assum'd other
Counsels. But in process of discourse
it happen'd something
fell in that brought to minde a
I4
30
passage of a late Sermon of theDoctor's, which that person having
been affected with, innocently
mention'd such apprehensions
of it, & so past on to talk of other
matters. The next day the Doctor
having recollected that probably
the approbation given to
the passage of the Sermon might
be an after-design to allay the
plain-dealing which preceded it,
expostulated his surmise, protesting
that nothing in the world could
more avert his love and deeply disoblige
him, then such unfaithfulness.
But being assur'd that there was
no such art or contrivance meant,
he gladly found and readily yielded
himself to have been mistaken.
In other cases he was no
way inclinable to entertain
31
doubts of his friends kindness: butif any irregularity chanc'd to intervene,
and cause misapprehensions,
he gave them not leave to
root and fasten by concealment,
but immediately produc'd his
ground of jealousy; and exacted
the like measure back again, if
his own proceedings fell at any
time under a doubtful or unkind
appearance. This he thought a
justice essential to Friendship,
without which it could not possibly
subsist: For we think not
fit to condemn the most notorious
Malefactor before he hath had
licence to propose his plea; and
sure 'tis more strangely barbarous
to treat a Friend, or rather Friendship
it self, with less regard.
To the performances of
32
friendship he hated all mercenaryreturns, whereof he was so jealous,
as hardly to leave place for gratitude.
Love, he said, was built upon
the union and similitude of mindes, and
not the bribery of gifts and benefits.
So generous was he herein, that
he has oft profest, he admitted retributions
of good turns, yet not so
much on any score, as that his Friend
might have the pleasure of being
kinde.
There was a person of quality,
a great and long sufferer in the
late times of trial, to whom the
Doctor had frequently sent supplies,
and continued so to doe,
till there happen'd at last a
change in the condition of the
correspondent, such a one as, if
it did not supersede the need of
33
farther assistance, yet gave promiseof an approaching affluence;
whereupon the Doctor fear'd the
adding a new obligation in this
conjuncture of affairs might seem
a piece of designe rather then
kindness or charity: and though
this suggestion was not of force
to divert his purpose, it prov'd
sufficient to suspend it, till by
inquiry he found his design'd
present would be a relief, and
then he thought it an impertinence
to consider what it could
be call'd besides.
But doing good to relatives or
being kind unto acquaintance
were low expressions of this Vertue
we exhibit. Misery and Want,
where ere he met with them, sufficiently
endear'd the Object. His
34
Alms was as exuberant as hisLove; and in Calamities to the
Exigence he never was a stranger,
whatever he might be to the man
that suffer'd.
And here the first preparative
was to leave himself no motive
to resist or slight the opportunities
of giving; which he compass'd
by being a Steward to
himself as well as unto God,
and parting still with the propriety
of a set portion of his
Estate, that when at any time he
relieved the wants of any, he
might become no whit the poorer
by his gift, have onely the
content of giving, and the ease of
being rid of keeping anothers
money. The rate and summe
of what he thus devoted was
35
the tenth of all his income;wherein he was so strictly punctual,
that commonly the first
thing he did was to compute and
separate the poor mans share.
To this he added every week five
shillings, which had been his
lowest proportion in the heat
of the War in Oxford, when he
liv'd upon his Pensehurst stock,
and had no visible means or almost
possibility of supply. Over
and above this he compleated the
devotions of his weekly Fast by
joyning Alms thereto, and adding
twenty shillings to the poor
man's heap.
These were his debts to Charity,
the establish'd fixt revenue
of the indigent; in the dispensation
of which he was so religiously
36
careful, that if at any time hehappen'd to be in doubt whether
he had set apart his charitable
proportions, he alwaies past sentence
against himself, resolving it
much better to run the hazard of
having pai'd the same debt twice,
then to incurre the possibility of
not having done it once. But
beyond these he had his free-will
offerings, and those proportion'd
more by the occasion of giving,
then the surplusage he had to
give. His poor man's bag had
so many mouths; and those so
often open'd, that it frequently
became quite empty: but its being
so never diverted him from
relieving any that appear'd in
need; for in such seasons he
chose to give in more liberal proportions
then at others.
When he was in pain he often
pray'd for Patience, and while he
did so, evidenc'd that his Prayer
was heard; for he exercis'd not
onely that, but Thankfulness too,
in his greatest extremity crying
out, Blessed be God, blessed be God.
Nor did he, according to the
usual method, inflict his Sickness
upon those about him, by peevishness
disquieting his attendants;
but was pleas'd with every thing
that was done, and liking every
thing that was brought, condescending
to all proposals, and
obeying with all readiness every
advice of his Physicians. Nor
37
was it wonder he should so returnunto the endeavours of his
Friends, who had tender kindness
for his Enemies, even the most
inveterate and bloody. When the
Defeat of Lambert and his Party,
the last effort of gasping Treason
in this Nation before its blest return
unto Obedience, was told
him, his onely triumph was that
of his Charity, saying with tears in
his eyes, Poor Souls! I beseech God
forgive them. So habitual was
Pity and Compassion to his Soul,
that all representations concentred
there: Vertue had still his
Prayers, because he lov'd it; and
Vice enjoy'd them too, because it
wanted them.
In his own greatest desolations
he administer'd reliefs to those
P3
38
about him, mixing Advices withhis Prayers, and twisting the
tenderness of a Friend to that of
the Christian, he then dispens'd
his best of Legacies, his Blessings;
most passionately exhorting the
young growing hopes of the Family,
whose first innocence and
bashful shame of doing ill he
above all things labour'd to have
preserv'd, to be just to the advantage
of their education, and maintain inviolate
their first baptismal Vows:
then more generally commended
unto all the great advantage
of mutual friendly Admonitions. On
which occasion when the good
Lady ask'd him what more special
thing he would recommend
unto Her for her whole life, he
briefly replyed, Uniform Obedience:
39
Whereby if we may take a Commentfrom himself at other times
he meant not onely a sincere reception
of Duty as such, because
commanded, and not because 'tis
this or that, pleasant or honourable,
or perchance cheap or easie
duty; but withall the very condition
of Obeying, the lot of not
being to chuse for ones self, the
being determin'd in all proposals
by humane or Divine Command,
and where those left at
large, by the guidance of God's
Providence, or the assistance of a
Friend.
But amidst these most Christian
divertisements, these happyest
anodynes of Sickness, the 25 of
April fatally drew on, wherein his
flux of Blood breaking forth
P4
40
again with greater violence thenit had done before, was not to be
stopp'd by outward applications,
nor the revulsives of any kind,
not of its own, the opening of a
Vein, first in the arm, and after in
the foot; till at last the fountain
being exhausted, the torrent ceas'd
its course, and indeed that Vital
one which its regular motion
kept on foot: for the good Doctor
leaving off to bleed about three of
the clock in the afternoon, became
very weak and dis-spirited,
and cold in the extreme parts,
had strength onely continued
to persevere in his Devotions,
which he did unto the last
moment of his life, a few minutes
before his Death breathing
out those words which best became
41
his Christian Life, Lord,make hast.
And so upon that very day on
which the Parliament conven'd,
which lay'd the foundation of
our Release and Liberty, and
brought at once this Nations return
from its Captivity, and its
Gracious Sovereign Prince, this
great Champion of Religion and
Pattern of all Vertue, as if reserv'd
for Masteries and Combats of
exigence and hazard, for Persecution
and Sufferings, was taken
hence, and by his loss represt the
overflowing and extravagance of
those joyes that waited the reception
of His Sacred Majesty.