rey, where his wife and family remained; and for himself, having occasion to be often in London, he took lodgings near White-hall, where he was frequently visited by men. of the greatest learning in this kingdom; his company being loved, and much desired by many of the nobility of this nation, who used him in their counsels of greatest considerations. Nor did our own nobility only favour him, but his acquaintance and friendship was usually sought for by most ambassadors of foreign nations, and by many other strangers, whose learning or employment occasioned their stay in this kingdom.

He was much importuned by friends to make his residence in London, which he could not do, having settled his dear wife and children at Mitcham, whither he often retired himself, and then studied incessantly some points. of controversy. But at last the persuasion of friends was so powerful, as to cause the removal of himself and family to London; where Sir Robert Drury assigned him a very convenient house rent-free, next his own in Drury-lane, and was also a daily cherisher of his studies, and such a friend as sympathized with him and his in their joy and

sorrow.

Several of the nobility were watchful and solicitous to the king for some preferment for him. His majesty had formerly both known, and much valued him, and had given him some hopes of a state employment, being much pleased that Mr Donne attended him, especially at his meals, where there were usually many deep discourses of learning, and often friendly disputes of religion betwixt the king and those divines, whose places required their attendance on his majesty; particularly, bishop Mountague, then dean of the chapel, who was the publisher of the king's works, and the most learned Dr Andrews, then his majesty's almoner, and at his death bishop of Winchester.

In April, 1610, he was incorporated master of arts in the university of Oxford, having before taken the same degree in Cambridge, About two years afterwards he accompanied Sir Robert Drury to Paris; where he is said to have had a most extraordinary vision. Mr Walton informs us, that, when Sir Robert requested him to go, Mrs Donne, who was then with child, and under an ill habit of body, expressed an unwillingness, saying, that her divining soul boded some ill in his absence: But, upon Sir Robert's being importunate, she at last consented. Two days after their arrival, Mr Donne was VOL. II..

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left.

left alone in a room, where himself, Sir Robert, and some friends had dined together: To which Sir Robert returning in an hour, as he left, so he found Mr Donne alone, but in such an extacy, and so altered in his countenance, that Sir Robert could not look upon him without amazement. He asked him, in God's name, what had befallen him in the short time of his absence: Mr Donne was not able to answer directly, but, after a long and perplexed pause, at last said,

"I have seen a dreadful vision since I saw you: I "have seen my dear wife pass twice by me through this "room, with her hair hanging about her shoulders, and "a dead child in her arms. This I have seen since F ❝ saw you." To which Sir Robert answered: Sure, sir, you have slept since I went out, and this is the result of some melancholy dream, which I desire you to forget, for you are now awake.' Mr Donne answered; "I cannot be surer that I now live, than that F "have not slept since I saw you; and am as sure, that at her second appearing she stopped, looked me in the "face, and vanished."

A servant was immediately dispatched to Drury-house, to know, whether Mrs Donne was living, and, if alive, in what condition; who brought word, that he found and left her very sad and sick in bed, and that, after a long and dangerous labour, she had been delivered of a dead child. And, upon examination, the abortion proved to be on the same day, and about the same hour, that Mr Donne affirmed he saw her pass by him in the room. Mr Walton observes, that though he had not this story from Mr Donne himself, yet he had it from a person of honour, and the strictest intimacy with Mr Donne, who affirmed the truth of it with the most solemn asseverations. Before this journey into France, during his stay there, and after his return, many of the nobility and others solicited the king to confer some secular employment on him: But his majesty, considering him better qualified for the service of the church, did not listen to their ap plication. For, the disputes concerning the oaths of all legiance and supremacy having lately been agitated, our Author, by K. James's special command, had written a treatise on that subject, which was printed at London in the year 1610, in 4to. The king himself had engaged in this controversy, as appears by his works still extant: But, discoursing with Mr Donne upon the subject, he was so pleased with his clearness in stating the

objections

objections made to the taking those oaths, and with his answers to them, that he commanded him to draw them up in form, and bring them to him. This Mr Donne performed in the compass of six weeks; and they were published under the title of " Pseudo-martyr; wherein "out of certain propositions and gradations this con❝clusion is evicted, that those, who are of the Roman religion in this kingdom, may and ought to take the "oath of allegiance." It is dedicated to the king, with a preface addressed to the priests and Jesuits, and to their disciples in this kingdom.

His majesty was now very pressing to have him enter into holy orders. Mr Donne himself has informed us, that "he almost descended to a persuasion, almost to a

solicitation of him to do it." Desirous however to qualify himself for the sacred function by a closer application to divinity and the learned languages, he deferred his compliance with the king's solicitations, till about three years after. He was then ordained by Dr John King, bishop of London, who was his good friend, and had been chaplain to the lord-keeper Egerton, at the same time that Mr Donne was his secretary.

He was presently after made one of the chaplains in ordinary to his majesty; and, about the same time, attending the king to Cambridge, he was there created doctor in divinity at his majesty's recommendation. Immediately upon his return from Cambridge, his wife died on the seventh day after the birth of her twelfth child. This calamity, which happened upon the fifteenth of August, 1617, overwhelmed him with grief. She left, (says Mr Walton) a man of a narrow unsettled estate, and (having buried five) the careful father of seven children then living; to whom he gave a voluntary assurance never to bring them under the subjection of a step-mother: Which promise he kept most faithfully, burying with his tears all his earthly joys in his most dear and deserving wife's grave; and betook himself to a solitary and retired life. His first motion from his house was to preach, where his beloved wife lay buried, in St Clement's-church, near Temple-bar, London; and his text was part of the prophet Jeremiah's Lamentations: Lo, I AM THE MAN THAT HAVE SEEN AF• FLICTION!'

• Forwardness and inconsideration (says his biographer) could not in him (as in many others) argue an insufficiency; for he considered long, and had many • strifes

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strifes within himself concerning the strictness of life, and competency of learning required in such as enter into sacred orders: And, doubtless (considering his own demerits) did with meek Moses humbly asked God, Who am I? And if he had consulted with flesh and blood, he had not put his hand to that holy plough: But God, who is able to prevail, wrestled with him, as the angel did with Jacob, and marked him for his own, marked him with a blessing, a blessing of obedience to the motions of his blessed Spirit: And then as he had formerly asked God humbly with Moses, Who am I? so now (being inspired with the apprehension of God's mercies) he did ask King David's thankful question, Lord, • who am I, that thou art so mindful of me? So mindful of me, as to lead me for more than forty years through a wilderness of the many temptations and various turnings of a dangerous life? So mindful, as to move the learnedest of kings to descend to move me to serve at thine altar? So merciful to me, as to move my heart to embrace this holy motion? Thy motions I will embrace, take the cup of salvation, call upon thy name, and preach thy gospel.'

Now all his studies (which were occasionally diffused) were concentered in divinity; now he had a new calling, new thoughts, new employment for his wit and eloquence. Now all his earthly affections were changed into divine love, and all the faculties of his soul were engaged in the conversion of others, in preaching glad tidings, remission to repenting sinners, and peace to each troubled soul: To this he applied himself with all care and diligence; and such a change was wrought in him, that he rejoiced more to be a door-keeper in the house of God, than to enjoy any temporal employment,

And though his long familiarity with persons of the greatest quality was such, as would have given some men boldness enough to have preached to any auditory; yet his modesty was so great, that he could not be persuaded to it, but went usually to preach in some private churches, in villages near London, till the king appointed him a day to preach to him. And though the king and others expected much from him, yet he was so happy (which few are) as to satisfy and exceed their expectations: Preaching the word so, as shewed he was possessed with those joys that he laboured to instil into others: A Preacher in earnest, weeping sometimes for his auditory, sometimes with them, always preaching to himself, like an angel from a cloud,

though

though in none; exciting the affections of others, and feeling the most lively motions of his own.

Within the first year of his taking orders, he had no fewer than fourteen advowsons of benefices offered him; but, being unwilling to leave London, he refused them all, they lying in the country. In the latter end of the year 1617, he was chosen Preacher of the society of Lincoln's-inn. Here he received every mark of love and respect; he constantly and faithfully preaching, and they liberally and amply requiting him. In this situation he remained near three years; about the end of which time, the emperor of Germany dying, and the troubles in Bohemla breaking out, K. James appointed lord Doncaster his ambassador to the new emperor, and expressly commanded Dr Donne to attend him. This was very much to lord Doncaster's satisfaction, and to the wishes of hist other friends, who feared that his incessant studies, and sorrow for the loss of his beloved wife, would shorten his days.

At his going, he left his friends of Lincoln's-inn, and they him with much reluctance; for though he could not say as St Paul to the Ephesians, Behold, you to whom I have preached the kingdom of God, shall henceforth see my face no more; yet he (being in a consumption) questioned it,' and they feared it, considering his troubled mind, which, with the help of his unintermitted studies, hastened the decays of his weak body. But GOD turned it to the best; for this employment did not only divert him from those studies and sad thoughts, but gave him a new and true occasion of joy, to be an eye-witness of the health of his honoured mistress, the queen of Bohemia, in a foreign land, (who having formerly known him a courtier) was most glad to see him in a canonical habit, and more glad to be an ear-witness of his most excellent and powerful preaching.

Within fourteen months he returned to his friends of Lincoln's-inn, with his sorrows much moderated, and his health improved.

About a year after his return from Germany, Dr Cary was made bishop of Exeter, and by his removal, the deanery of St Paul's being vacant, the king appointed Dr Donne to wait on him at dinner the next day; and his majesty (being set down) before he ate any meat, said (after his pleasant manner) Dr Donne, I have invited you to dinner, and though you sit not down with me, yet I will carve to you of a dish that I know you love;

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