But what style shall I use to set forth this Still,<397> whom (well nigh 30 years since) my reverend tutor<398> in Cambridge styled by this name, "Divine Still;" who, when myself came to him to sue for my grace to be bachelor, first examined me strictly, and after answered me, kindly, that "the grace he granted me was not of grace, but of merit;" who was often content to grace my young exercises with his venerable presence; who, from that time to this, hath given me some helps, more hopes, all encouragements in my best studies; to whom I never came, but I grew more religious; from whom I never went, but I parted better instructed. Of him therefore, my acquaintance, my friend, my instructor, and lastly my diocesan; if I speak much it were not to be marvelled; if I speak frankly, it is not to be blamed; and though I speak partialy, it were to be pardoned. Yet to keep within my proportion, custom, and promise, in all these; I must say this much of him; his breeding was from his childhood in good literature, and partly in music, which was counted in those days a preparative to divinity, neither could any be admitted to primam tonsuram,<399> except he could first bene le, bene con, bene can, (as they call it,) which is "to read well, to construe well, and to sing well;" in which last he hath good judgement, and I have heard good music of voices in his house.

            In his full time, more full of learning, he became bachelor of divinity, and after doctor, and so famous for a preacher, and specially a disputer, that the learnedest were even affeared to dispute with him; and he finding his own strength would not stick to warn them in their arguments to take heed to their answers; like a perfect fencer that will tell aforehand in which button he will give the venue,<400> or like a cunning chess-player that will appoint aforehand with which pawn, and in what place, he will give the mate. And not to insist long in a matter so notorious, it may suffice that about 20 year since when the great diet or meeting, should have been in Germany, for composing matters in religion; Doctor Still was chosen for Cambridge, and Doctor Humphrey<401> for Oxford, to oppose all comers for defence of the English church. For this, his known sufficiency, he was not long unfurnished of double honour.<402> The puritans in Cambridge wooed him, and would fain have won him to their part; and seeing they could not, they forbore not in the pulpit, after their fashion, to glance at him, among others, with their equivocations and epigrams. There was one Mr. Key that offended them, and one said in a sermon, that of all complexions the worst were such as were key-cold; and in the same sermon and like vein, he said that some could not be contented with a living worth 100l. a year, another worth six score, but Still will have more. But howsoever they snarled, this Still was counted well worthy of more, so as in the year 1592, being the 34th of the late Queen, he was preferred to this see, after it had been vacant well nigh 3 year. During the vacancy, I can well remember, there was great enquiring who should have it; and, as if all bishops should now be sworn to follow usum Sarum,<340> every man made reckoning that the manor-house and park of Banwell should be made a reward of some courtier. It increased also this suspicion that Thomas Henneage,<403> an old courtier, and zealous puritan, was said to have an oar in the matter, whose conscience, if it were such in the clergy, as it was found in the duchy, might well have disgested a better booty than Banwell. But when it was notified once who was named to it, I had better conceit, and straight I wrote to him, as of old Cambridge acquaintance, and in such rusty Latin as I had left, gave him warning of this rumour, which he took exceeding kindly at my hands, though some other frowned on me for it, many months after. So that for his entry to it, I may boldly say that I said before of his predecessor, that he came clearly to it without any touch or scandal, that he brought a good report from the places where he had lived, showed himself well natured and courteous to the kindred of his predecessor, had a far greater fame of learning and merit, and (which the Queen liked best of all;) was single and a widower. Nay, I may compare them yet further, he married also soon after he was settled, and the Queen was nothing well pleased with his marriage: Howbeit, in all indifferent censures this marriage was much more justifiable than the other, for age, for use, for end; he being not too old, nor she too young, being daughter to a worshipful knight of the same country and a great houskeeper, and drawing with her a kind of alliance with judge Popham, that swayed all the temporal government of the country. These respects, though I will not strive greatly to praise in a bishop, yet the common sort will allow no doubt for wise and provident; so as the Queen's displeasure, (the times being somewhat more propitious and favourable to bishoprics since Bishop Wickham's sermon) was the easier pacified without so costly a sacrifice as a whole manor, and she contented herself only to break a jest upon the name of the bishop's wife, saying to Sir Henry Barkley, "it was a dangerous name for a bishop to match with a Horner."<404> Since which time, he hath preached before her more than once, and hath received good testimonies of her good opinion, and God hath also blessed him many ways very greatly, to see his children well brought up, well bestowed, and to have an unexpected revenue, out of the entrails of the earth (I mean the lead mines of Mendip) greater than his predecessor had above ground; so as this bishop seems to be blessed with Joseph's blessing, benedictionibus cæli sursum, benedictionibus abyssi jacentis deorsum, benedictionibus uberis et vulvae; Gen. 49:25. "with blessings from heaven above, blessings from the deep that lieth beneath, blessings of the breasts and of the womb." Which fortunate increase of living happening to a provident man, that was ever homo frugi,<405> it is supposed hath brought him to a great ability: insomuch, that this church of Bath seemes to conceive some hope that he will have compassion of her ruins, at the least; (as Sir Arthur Hopton,<406> a good knight of the Bath, was wont between earnest and sport to motion unto him) "to give toward it but the lead to cover it, which would cost him nothing." But he would. reply again, "Well said, gentle Sir Arthur, you will coff<407> me as you scoff me." which is no great token that he liked the motion. Yet at his being at Bath he promised them very fair, which they were bold to remember him of sometime by their friends. One trifling accident happened to his lordship there, that I have thought since of more consequence, and I tell him that I never knew him nonplussed in argument, but there. There was a craftsman in Bath, a recusant puritan, who condemning our church, our bishops, our sacraments, our prayers, was condemned himself to die at the assizes, but at my request Judge Anderson<408> reprieved him, and he was suffered to remain at Bath upon bail. The bishop conferred with him, in hope to convert him; and first, my lord alleged for the authority of the church, St. Augustine. The shoemaker answered, "Austin was but a man." He [Still] produced, for antiquity of bishops, the fathers of the council of Nice. He answered, "They were also but men, and might err." "Why, then, said the bishop; thou art but a man; and mayest and dost err." "No Sir, saith he, the Spirit bears witness to my spirit, I am the child of God." "Alas, said the bishop, thy blind spirit will lead thee to the gallows." "If I die," saith he, "in the Lord's cause, I shall be a martyr." The bishop turning to me, stirred as much to pity as impatience;—"This man, said he, "is not a sheep strayed from the fold, for such may be brought in again on the shepherd's shoulders, but this is like a wilde buck broken out of a park, whose pale is thrown down, that flies the farther off, the more he is hunted." Yet this man, that stopped his ears like the adder to the charms of the bishop, was after persuaded by a layman, and grew conformable. But to draw to an end: in one question this. bishop, whom I count an oracle for learning, would never yet give me satisfaction, and that was, when I asked him his opinion of witches. He saith, "he knows other men's opinions, both old and new writers, but could never so digest them, to make them an opinion of his own." All I can get is this, "that the devil is the old serpent, our enemy, that we pray to be delivered from daily; as willing to have us think he can do too much, as to have us persuaded he doth nothing." To conclude of this bishop, without flattery, I hold him a rare man for preaching, for arguing, for learning, for living; I could only wish, that in these he would make less use of logic, and more of rhetoric.

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