THE APOLOGY OF THEOPHILUS higgon's LATELY MINISTER, NOW CATHOLIQVE.  
Wherein THE LETTER OF SIR EDW. HOBY KNIGHT, directed unto the said T. H. in answer of his FIRST MOTIVE, is modestly examined, and clearly refuted. * ⁎ *  
Patior, sed non confundor.  2. Timoth. 1.12. 
ROUEN.  
By JOHN MACHVEL, dwelling in the street of the Prison, over against the Crown of Orleans, 1609.   

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE, AND TRULY VIRTUOUS, the LADIES CATHOLIQVE of great Britain.  
MOST Illustrious, and Renowned Ladies;  
It was the opinion of an ancient, and grave 
a Thucydides.  Historian, that men should speak nothing of women; neither good, nor evil. An opinion unworthy of the Author; which as 
b In his Treatise of the virtuous acts of women.  Plutarch approveth not in his censure, so neither Sir Edward Hoby, nor myself, have observed in our practice; howbeit, in a different manner, and upon unlike respects: he speaking evil of you, to the disparadgement of your ●…ites; I good, to the advancement of your honours: he, out of his Zeal, and Wisdom (which, perhaps, did both set forth together, as 
c Currebant simul, sed ille praecucurrit. Io. 20.4.  john, and Peter, but yet the first hath outrun the second) he, I say, out of his zeal, and wisdom, to defame your Religion in your Persons; I, out of my duty, and obligation, to give a just applause unto your resplendent virtues. And thus I (with your Mary) have chosen the BETTER part, to speak good of you, and not evil; as also, therein, I sustain the TRVER part, because yourselves are not evil, but good.  
In which assurance, and confidence, I may boldly defend the lustre of such excellent LADIES, against the misprises of this KNIGHT, attempting to blemish their fame with his pen, which he should maintain with his sword. A work no less ignoble in him to undertake, then impossible to perform. For, were it not a paradoxical endeavour, in any man, to accuse Pallas of folly, or Venus of deformity, and likewise in the rest, where the perfection of the subject preventeth the credibility of the discourse: Such also is the project of this Knight, and so improbable is his conceit; since the general esteem, which you have gained by the integrity of your lives, hath made you incapable of his wrongs. Neither so only; but, wherein he would make you inglorious, therein your glory doth consist.  
Wherhfore; 
d 2. Cor. 7.4.  multa mihi fiducia est apud vos, multa gloriatio pro vobis; great is my trust in you, great is my rejoicing for you. Yea I am glad, that I may come unto you, as my principal defenders a-against him, by whom you are equally offended; and that the tempest, raised against me by this Knight, hath driven me unto the secure harbour of your honourable favours: whereof though I am unworthy by my own deservings, yet you can make me worthy by your gracious opinions. And I conceive the greater hope thereof, because I am already entitled thereunto by the Knight, saying; 
e Pag. 12.  it is twenty to one, but some of YOUR Ladies will be pearing into this 
* To me, or against me rather.  Letter: therefore I will write no more, than I am able to justify. Whereby yourselves have a peculiar interest, from his own hand, to require his justification of all those things, which, in his Letter, he hath imputed unto your obsequious, and faithful servant.  
In which regard, I appeal unto you (religious, and prudent LADIES) and assign you (with your favourable leave) to be my judges in this trial; since my CAUSE is honest, and yourselves are just. She cometh, before your presences, in her native, and naked colours; not painted with eloquence, not adorned with invention. Our unhappy Father sought no 
f Genes. 3.7  sigge leaves, while he remained without sin, and (consequently) without shame. They, that are guiltless, seek no colourable defence; for 
g Stat. Caecilius.  Innocency is her own eloquence, being easily sustained by her inward, and proper strength: whereas an evil cause requireth much art; being like a statue (or 
* Dost aliquid, quod intus esse oportet. Plut. in Laconic.  dead carcase) which hath the shape, and proportion of a man, but hath no soul within, to give it life, and motion.  
Finally, therefore, whatsoever shall be found defective in me, let your wisdom supply, or charity forgive, since he, that offereth up this little Treatise unto your acceptance, hath also dedicated himself unto your service; remaining now, and ever,  
Your Honour's most humbly devoted THEOPHILUS higgon's. ROUEN. 12. Decemb. 1609.   

THE PREFACE UNTO THE READER. Wherein The Method, and Matter, of Sir Edward's Letter, and this Apology, are briefly noted.  
COurteous Readers;  
Having granted forth a Prohibition against my pen, out of the Court of my reason, not to intermeddle in that, which belongeth not really, and properly, unto my Cause; I will omit all other circumstances, contained in the 
h Pag. 1.2.3.4.5.6.7.  Preface of Sir Edward's Letter, and examine only, at this time, what Method, and Matter he hath projected therein, and prepared for his ensuing discourse.  

1. Pag. 7.  My whole discourse (saith i he) shall consist of six Paragraffes. In the FIRST, The cause of your Alienation shall be sifted. In the SECOND, Your main reason for Purgatory disproved. In the THIRD, Your prime Father (S. Augustine) answered. In the FOURTH, your prime Protestant, D. Humphrey, defended. In the FIFT, The contrary position maintained. In the sixth, and last, A friendly retreat sounded.  
All which Sections, or Paragraphs, may be reduced unto three principal heads. The first, unto MORAL points of honesty, pertaining unto the Will. The second, fift, and sixth, unto INTELLECTVALL points (of Faith, Science, and Opinion) pertaining unto the Understanding. The third, and fourth, are referred mixedly unto them both; being partly Moral, and partly Intellectual.  
According to this proportion, and measure, I have made the distribution of this Treatise. But forasmuch as praise, and dispraise belong rather unto things Moral, then Intellectual (whence it is, that an error in the later, is more pardonable, then in the former) in the FIRST Part of this Apology, I will take a survey of Sir Edward's first section, or Paragraph: in the SECOND, I will consider his fidelity, and exactness in his third, and fourth Paragraphs: in the THIRD, and last part, I will visit his second, fift, and sixth Paragraphs; wherein I shall represent unto you the truth, and substance of his disputes. In which THREE parts, I will temper my style with sobriety, and moderation: Whereby you, and Sir Edward himself, may well perceive, that the necessity of defence, and not desire of revenge, invited me unto this little pain.   

THE FIRST PART; Concerning the MORAL points, objected unto me by SIR EDW. in his FIRST PARAGRAPH.  

CHAPTER I. Of my Puritanisme, and causes of my Alienation; pretended by the Knight.  

§. 1. Of my Puritanisme.  
1. PHILOSOPHY doth teach, and experience doth prove, that, amongst other conditions of Sight, there is required a convenient distance betwixt the Organ of seeing, and the Object to be seen: not too far; because the power of the sight is limited, and confined unto a certain space: not too near; because the species (the forms, or shapes) of the Object must have sufficient air, as the mean, to derive, and convaigh them unto the Organ. That is to say (in a more familiar kind of speech, for the capacity of every Reader) We can not discern a thing, which is too remote from the eye, or placed 
* Sensibile positum supra sensum, toli●… sensationem.  immediately upon the same.  
2. This observation may be very beneficial unto Sir Edward; who (being no 
a 1. Sam. 9.9  SEER by inspiration) hath been very much deceived in his sight; not only betwixt 
b Where he dateth his Letter to me.  Queenburrow, and S. Omers, where the distance was too great, but also betwixt the 
c Were he dateth his Letter to the Ladies.  BLACK FRIARS, and Fleetstreet, where the distance was too little for him, to perceive the truth of those things, which he imputeth unto my charge. And therefore, if I, or any other, would demand; Why Sir Edward, living in the circuit of the Black Friars (that is to say, in the midst of a zealous, and religious Congregation) should untruly accuse me of Puritanisme in Fleetstreet? the resolution may be this; The places were so near, that he could not see the truth.  
3. But I will not separate those things, which he hath joined together. Behold then (good Reader) the whole connexion of his discourse; for I will not be an unkind Atropos to cut the thread in sunder, before it be spun out unto the farthest length.  
4. 
d Pag. 12.  That famous College of Christ's Church in Oxford (which you have ill repaid for the sweet milk, which you have sucked out of her breasts) hath not yet forgotten how you were ever stained with Puritanisme; how violently adverse you were to all such, as were suspected to favour the Romish Sea. She doth yet smile to think, what pain you took, being Censor of the house, in putting your and to the sawing down of a poor, harmless Maypole, because you thought it came out of a Romish forest. When you were Lecturer at 
* Fleetsir.  S. Dunstanes, your contributory Auditors thought your long prayer, and spitting pauses too short, because the reverend bishops (yea even your own Lord, and Master) were ever left out for wranglers, and Antichristian Hierarchies, not worthy to be named, in the same day, with your holy Pastors, and sanctified Ministers. Thus have you ever affected singularity. But how cometh it to pass, that you should now fall into the opposite contrariety? etc. So he.  
5. Here Puritanisme is made the Aries to ruinated the walls of my credit; and, being an eminent untruth, is placed in the very front, and forlorne-hope, of his future assault; that so my change might seem either impossible, or absurd, where the termini are so distant, and, consequently, the motion must be long: howbeit the proportion is not just herein, betwixt corporal, and spiritual things.  
6. But, to deal orderly without confusion, and plainly without obscurity, in the root of this accusation, upon which the branches of the rest depend; I will first consider the point itself, or crime of Puritanisme, objected unto me by the Knight: secondly I will review the proofs, which he allegeth to justify the same.  
7. FIRST then for this PURITANISM; I will readily confess, with Sir Edward, that it is a stain: but I constantly deny, that it was, or could be so, unto me, who embraced PROTESTANTINISME (as, in our country, it distinguisheth from the note of a Papist, & a Puritan) and esteemed it to be more probable in reason, as I saw it to be more conformable unto the State.  
8. Of which my understanding, and affection in these affairs, as my conscience is my best witness, so I want not sundry overtures to declare the same, if my public association, if my private conference, if Lectures, if Sermons, if, finally, any outward act may testify my inward thoughts, wherein Sir Edward hath no interest to be my judge.  
9 If I must yet make a more particular appeal, it shall be unto my Reverend Lord, the L. Bishop of London himself; for, as he knew me better than this Knight, so he knew likewise, that a stained Puritan was unfit either to receive his favours, or to do him Service; wherein sundry occasions presented themselves unto me, to encounter PURITANS; and yet they can not (or, if they can, let them) say, that openly, or secretly, in whole, or in part, in doctrine, discipline, or ceremony, I was inclinable unto their side.  
10. Wherhfore, to come, SECONDLY, unto Sir Edward his proofs of this pretended stain (for, if it be sufficient for him to accuse, I shall not be innocent) I confess the Fact itself in his first proof, but I deny it in the second.  
11. First then (Sir Edward) unto your first; I confess the fact, which you allege, I deny the cause, which you assign. For the original, and proper motive of my disconceipt against that harmless Maypole (whereof I was the Adversary, & you are the Advocate) was, because it came out of the College grounds; taken thence by stealth, and erected (with scorn) near unto our walls, without our consent; and this also to justify a former wrong, lately offered in the same kind. This was the cause (as many can yet remember) first moving me unto that enterprise; which, though it were not expedient for me then to undertake, yet (being a wooden proof in your behalf) it was not convenient for you to mention at this time.  
12. As for your second proof; it is more important, and material. And now I am glad to see your writ of removal, whereby you bring my cause from Oxford, to receive a trial at London. For as this injury is more marqueable, so is my defence more ample in this case.  
13. Wherhfore I appeal unto you, Honourable, Rightworshipfull, and other, well respected, Auditors (from whom as I have had many, and singular tokens of your love, so I recognise it here, with my best thanks) whether you, in your election of me unto the office of your PREACHER, or whether I, from the first unto the last performance of that duty, gave any signification of these things, whereof I am now accused?  
14. But if in the manner, and matter of my Sermons; if in the composition, and style, and other appurtenances of speech, I ever expressed a contrary affection unto that, which is here imposed upon me; if usually, in my ordinary Lectures (and, always, in a more solemn assembly) I made a general remembrance of the bishops, and a special of my Lord, and Master; if I were different in habit, and deportment from the singularity of stained Puritans; lastly, if I showed a total conformity in regular demeanour, why should this whole fable, compounded of so many untrue circumstances, be so improbably suggested against me by the Knight? Surely this benefit ensueth unto me by such a wrong, that Fame deserveth little credit in things more secret, and obscure, since it is controlled in things so manifest, and clear.  
15. I might also here produce, for more abundant refutation of this pretended stain, a certain proverbial report (entertained by my good friends) of the opposite contrariety; viz. If any man will hear a Popish Sermon, let him go to S. Dunstanes. I might acquaint you with many positions, delivered by me there, in frequent auditories, which are Heretical in GENEVA, but Catholic in ROME. I might appeal unto persons of different quality; clerical, Laical; learred, unlearned; noble, base; etc. who accused me in the later, but ever freed me in the former respect. And, if farther occasion shall be ministered unto me, I may (perhaps) deal more punctually therein.  
16. Mean while, thus much shall suffice concerning this Puritanical stain; which, though it doth more properly belong unto things INTELLECTVALL, then MORAL, yet since it is here taken by Sir Edward into his sifting Paragraph, with reference unto the sequel (wherein he severely examineth the causes of my Alienation) I could not pretermitt it in this place.   

§. 2. Of the causes of my Alienation; and particularly of Debts.  
1. But how cometh it to pass (saith Sir Edward) that you should now fall into the opposite" contrariety? His answer is. 
e pag. 14. etc.  Happily you have done this either wholly to escape, or to agree the better with your CREDITORS. Happily, having miss a former PREFERMENT, you think, by this means, to be wooed by the State to return. Happily the yoke of WEDLOCK, being somewhat burdensome to your shoulders, was an inducement to make you cast off the plough. And is it, but happily, so? Behold his gradation. SURELY, not only some, but even all of these, were the cords, that haled on your FIRST MOTIVE.  
2. But hold your hand, good Sir, a while; you must not object, and answer also; and it becometh me now to interpose myself, lest your answer here, might be more prejudicial unto me, than your objection 
* §. 1. num. 4. & 12.  before. Wherhfore I will entreat particularly of your three assigned causes of my Alienation, and first concerning the matter of Debts; which (as you 
f Ibid.  say) the world knoweth were very clamours: again; 
g pag. 19  It was the grim aspect of your own estate, etc.  
3. As for your amplifications (the world knoweth: clamorous: grim aspect) they may be signs of your 
* Rhetori concessum est sententijs uti falsis, etc. Gell. l. 1. c. 6.  rhetorical vain; and so, letting them pass, I come unto the matter of your accusation, which will easily vanish into smoke, and return into that Nothing, out of which it was taken, and made, if you will vouchsafe to consider with me, First, the quantity of these debts; Secondly, the reason of the same; Thirdly, my means of discharged; Fourthly, the disposition, and quality of my Creditors; Fiftly, and lastly, my honest intention to repay. Thus I doubt not, but Sir Edward shall receive a just satisfaction; whereby also I shall stop the wide mouth of his world.  
4. Concerning the FIRST; it may be, that Fame hath put my debts to usury, and made the increase greater than the principal; which, by many pounds, extendeth not unto one hundred marks.  
5. Concerning the SECOND; it may please Sir Edward to understand, that my debts (whatsoever) arose not upon any vicious course of life, but upon other respects, incident unto Scholars, and such, especially, whom either continual attendance about their Lords, or evident hope of better fortunes, inviteth unto a more liberal expense.  
6. Concerning the THIRD therefore; Sir Edward's world may bear witness for me, that though my desert (having no value in itself) could be of no more value, than it was made by the love, and kindness of others; yet, as my possibility, and probability of immediate preferment were very great) in that respect) so they, whose favour nourished my hopes in a comfortable expectation (beyond many of my rank) would not suffer me to fall under a burden of so little weight.  
7. Concerning the FOURTH then; if my Creditors had been as violent, as that 
h Matth. 18.27.28.  ungrateful servant, who, forgetting his masters patience toward himself; showed impatience against his own fellow; yet were they so unwise also, that they would destroy the fortunes, which should be common unto us both? No; that, which they lent to build me up, they demanded not to pull me down, but expected my harvest, wherein they might reap their own again; if with advantage, it depended upon my will, which (being not like the barren ground, wherein the seed is lost, but like the fertile, which yieldeth it again with profit) hath ever been more apt to recompense a benefit, then to retain a due.  
8. Wherefore, for the FIFT point (which, in consequence, doth chief import me) I am desirous to satisfy Sir Edward, and his world, therein, in all sincerity of heart. But because 
i Pro.  the heart of man is deep, and is known only (infallibly) unto him, 
k Psal. 139.  who walketh in all our secret paths (or unto none, farther than he will communicate the same) I appeal first, and principally, unto my great, and sovereign judge, by whom, and before whom, I must, and may justify my honest intention in this behalf. If I am guilty, he is the Accuser that shall be the Witness, and he is the witness that shall be the judge, and he is the judge that shall condemn me, and from his sentence there lieth no appeal. Here then is my confidence, and comfort.  
9 Howbeit, since Charity will think the best in all things, and of all men (for 
l 1. Cor. 13.5  she thinketh not evil) and, specially, when she hath probable inducements thereunto; I am glad that they (Men) who (alone) can accuse me unjustly, may (and aught) justly excuse me also. For, as at sundry times before, and unto sundry people, I did fully, and thankfully repay my debts, so, upon my departure out of England, I gave some tokens of my moral inclination in this kind.  
10. I will not (though I might) go unto Oxford for my proof, but unto London, whither I was cited 
* §. 1. Num. 4. & 12.  before, for a trial in the first, and fundamental objection, contrived by Sir Edward's skill. And now, because he shall not farther call into question, nor disprove, my fidelity, and truth; I am compelled to name some men (the first being one of my best, the other none of my worst friends) viz 
† In Chancery lane.  M. Garth, 
* Ibid.  M. Simcotts, 
† near Charing cross.  M. Council: to whom (conjunctively) I discharged the sum of eight pounds, or more; when no necessity (but honesty) did force me thereunto. Whence Sir Edward (out of his 
m pag. 4.  Protestant Charity) may reasonably collect, and credibly affirm, that, in borrowing, I had no purpose to deceive.  
11. And here, though it may seem repugnant unto the duty, and affection of a Son, to detract any estimation from his Father's report, yet since his 
* Annexed unto Sir Edward's.  Letter is published to give more credit, and authority unto Sir Edward's calumniations, yea to satisfy any vnprejudicate Reader (for so the 
† In his Admonit.  Printer testifieth in his name) and last, since here the matter itself doth inevitably challenged it at my hands (for though there are other untrue points contained in that Letter, either as much, or more prejudicial unto me then this, yet I will seek no occasion to contradict any parcel thereof, otherwise than it shall present itself unto me; nor yet will I accept it farther, then pure necessity shall constrain me) I must remove a scandal, which, by virtue of the said Letter, may (perhaps) make a deep impression in some men's hearts, to my singular inconvenience, and loss.  
12. Whereas therefore, you (my dear, and loving Father) give this signification in your Letter (bearing the form of an indictment against me, your Son) viz. before he went beyond the Seas, he borrowed divers sums of money, with purpose (I am persuaded) never to repay them, and, amongst the rest, he abused myself for ten pound; the former instances (besides many other proofs) may persuade you otherwise, and assure you of that, which a Father doth least suspect, or least accuse; to wit, the Moral honesty of your Son: which, by the course of nature, hath, from you, descended unto me, as my best inheritance. And that it may appear unto yourself, and others (who, either by your own consent, or by Sir Edward's fault, have interest in these accusations, to require my defence) that I did not abuse your Fatherly benignity (which emptied your means to fill my wants, as freely, as 
n S. Aug. Conf. l. 2. c. 3.  Patricius himself dealt with his Augustine) I pray you to remember that, which you did (or might) know long before: to wit, that I borrowed, and received the said ten pounds of you, to further my suit in obtaining a 
* S. michael's in Gloucester.  Benefice, being in his Majesty's gift, and vacant upon the deprivation of the late Incumbent (stained with Puritanisme) and that I was expressly counseled thereunto by my Honourable Lord; howbeit, upon some difficulties, I surceased from the same.  
13. This was the occasion of borrowing that sum. But now, if you will compare the time also, when I borrowed it, with the time of my departure out of England, I may be fully cleared from all suspicion of abuse. For my departure, out of England, being in November 1607. and the receipt of that money, about Easter 1606. the distance of the times doth prove, that my intention was not fraudulent; since at Easter 1606. I thought not of this departure in November 1607; which was (almost) two years after.  
14. So than it is true, that I borrowed sundry sums, in general, and this, in particular also, before I went beyond the Seas: but this word (BEFORE) is here ambiguous (and, in one sense, very prejudicial) and therefore must be distinguished: viz. Mediately, or Immediately before. If it be taken mediately, as it signifieth a good distance of time, I confess the accusation, in this sense, to be very true; but then my honest intention receiveth little, or no prejudice thereby. If it be taken immediately, as it signifieth a propinquity, and nearness of time; I must deny the accusation, in this sense, to be true; and this, only, is it, which can be prejudicial unto the honesty of my intention. To conclude then; I say, and, upon my salvation, I protest unto you, that neither immediately, nor near upon my departure, nor after my first resolution that way, did I borrow any money, but I did repay some; and so, in each respect (both of not borrowing, and of repaying) I am freed from the infamy of this pretended abuse; forasmuch as I might then have borrowed more, and I might not have repaid any: both which had been to my great advantage, when money was to be my best (if not my only) friend.  
15. Now, if my true defence were not thus plainly, and articulately set down, who would not conceive the meaning to be this? viz. Immediately before, or upon his departure, he borrowed divers sums of money, etc. For, by the contempering, and mingling together of these words, borrow; abuse; never repay; going beyond the seas; this sense must necessarily flow, & issue thereout: and this, I know, is the construction, which is made by many, and specially by them, whose will doth make them more credulous in this case. 
o Caesar in commentar. Et Lamprid. in Heliogab.  Quod volumus, facilè credimus.  
16. But there is more art, than charity in these commixtions; which are as prejudicial unto those, whom we are willing to defame, as the conjunction of Saturn with a more benign, & happy star, is fatal unto the bodies in our inferior world. As for example. CLEMENT the eight (of blessed life, and happy memory) is accused by 
p de Antichr.  M. Gabriel powel, of whoredom. When? Ante Papatum (saith he) before his Popedom. Who is the witness? Doctor Gentilis; his professed enemy. Well; be it so: it was in his young 
* of 16 years.  age (as D. Gentilis related it unto me) wherein, and 
q Confess. l. 6 cap. 15.  after which, Augustine himself confesseth, and lamenteth his greater follies. But yet; why aunt Papatum? Why should his Papacy (or the Papacy rather) in his declining age, bear the fault of his youthful years? This was an evil commixtion also, &, for the manner, it hath a singular resemblance with the other, whereof I have already treated, and wherewith I will conclude this matter.  
17. Finally therefore; as my Religion, and disposition do powerfully incline me to GIVE every man his own (which is the proper act of justice, but not of Charity; which doth FORGIVE every man his debts; and for this cause, though I will pay others, yet I will spare Sir Edward) so I will endeavour, to my power, to give a just satisfaction unto my Creditors, whether 
* See before; num. 2. 3.  clamorous, or silent. Unto the first (if there be any such) I would owe nothing but love: unto the second, I own more love than before. I know the precept, which S. Paul 
r Rom. 13.8.  giveth, viz. Own nothing unto any man, but this, that you love one an other. I know that it is a mark, which David 
s Psal. 36.21  setteth upon the ungodly man; he borroweth, and payeth not again. My desire to observe that precept, and to avoid this mark, shall express itself in my careful, and industrious provision for that little quantity of debt, which Sir Edward esteemeth to be a great cause of my Alienation from his Church. But whether there be any porportion betwixt the cause, and the effect, I will now remit myself, & him, unto the decision of the impartial Reader.   

§. 3. Want of Preferment.  
1. I come now unto the second Cause, which is like unto the first; as, amongst 
* Fancies non omnibus una est, Nec diversa tamen, etc. ovid.  Sisters, the one is the half image of the other. The Miss of your preferment was grievous unto you, saith 
t pag. 15.  Sir Edward: and; 
u pag. 14.  having miss a former preferment, you think, by this means, that the State will woo you to return.  
2. In which accusation he is so confident, that, dividing the affection of Aërius unto me, & reserving the opinion of that heretic unto 
w pag. 56.  himself, he 
x pag. 20.  challengeth me, as a man infected with the disease of Aërius: and; 
y pag. 10.  this was the disease of Aërius; and, 
z pag. 11.  when I speak of Aërius, I think of M. 
* An hater of God.  Theomisus. Which name Sir Edward giveth me in his new baptism: and I am no more unfortunate therein, then S. Innocentius, whom the Magdeburgians have bated the first syllable of his name; or S. Athanasius, to whom the Trinitarian heretics have added one letter; or S. Cyprian, with whom a Pagan Philosopher exchandged an other; making them appear as 
† Nocentius. Sathanasius. Caprianus.  monsters, who were the lights of the world.  
3. But digesting this wrong (as also many other; viz. 
❀ pag. 1.  Fantastical wit, 
a 10.  frantic fits, 
b 50.  railing Rabshekah; 
c 6.  monstrous birth, etc. and sparing the Author, who accuseth 
d 49.  my currish pen, I proceed unto the matter itself.  
4. And here, if Sir Edward's former objection (of Puritanisme) had stood in force against me; it had not been so much a mutation, as a progression, and perfection in that gospel, to run, from it, into Brownisne, or Barrowisme, and, from thence, into Anabaptisme; which, in the strict letter, sensed by inward Spirit (according to the ancient rules of Protestant Religion also) is the neatest, and most refined gospel of them, who fell away from 
* The Sacramentaries, and Anabaptists fell from us etc. Luth. in Gal. 5.9.  LUTHER, the 
c Powel de Antichr. pag. 324.  great Reformer of the Church. And surely, if the change of my Religion had depended upon such a temporal respect, as Sir Edward doth suggest, thoses courses had sorted as fully for my commodity, and more nearly with my conscience, than this opposite contrariety, which I now embrace.  
5. But I plead no such defence. It was the light of truth, that convinced me; the power of grace, that persuaded me; no corrupt affection, but evident reason, no want in earth, but desire of heaven, no discontentment, which I found, but comfort, which I sought, did bring me, effectually, unto this happy change.  
6. Which motion of my Soul, if it came from the earth, and had the same beginning with this corruptible Body; my choice were improvident to forsake my former, and to entertain this present course. Can I not perceive, that, by flying, I did not fly, but increase my evil? Did I not know, that this was no salve for such a sore, but a remedy worse than the sickness itself, if either I wanted, or sought for temporal means? Did I not foresee, that I should now exclude myself from such competent means, as I had, and better fortunes, which I expected; and that, withal, I should expose my name unto certain obloquy, and my life unto uncertain danger?  
7. Oh, saith the Knight, but you thought, that the Sat would woo you to return. No, not so: for am I not as a drop of water in that great Element? But yet, you (Sir Edward) a member of 
f pag. 4.  the most superlative Parliament, do you not (in charity) persuade my return, and do you not frame sundry 
g pag. 94.  Motives to this effect?  
8. Your 
h pag. 4. etc.  former lines were written in blood (as the laws of Draco) your later in milk; wherein I am restored again unto my 
i pag. 93.  name (Theophilus) and (almost) unto your favour; so that you, my Aduersary-Friend, might justly have a second right in me (the first being always reserved unto my Honourable Lord) to use, dispose, and employ me according to your will, if my conscience did not retain me in this Faith, with an inviolable bond.  
9 As for other Motives, more effectual, and powerable, than flesh, and blood can easily resist, I will say nothing at this time. I may not publish the favours of other men so freely, as Sir Edward doth proclaim my faults. This only may suffice to show unto men of charitable, and reasonable minds, that I languished not with the disease of 
k Epiph. haeres. 75. August. haeres. 53.  AERIUS (or 
l See the Examen of Fox his Calend. januar. 1.  WICKLIFF) and delighted not myself in the singularity of opinion (as they did) but, for the truth's sake, which convinced me, for my soul's sake, which lay in peril, for my saviours sake, who redeemed it with his blood, I repaired unto that 
m Hieronym. ad Damas'.  Ark, out of which there is no safety in the waves of heresy, and schism; that so I might be knit unto that Church, whereof, 
n In 1. Tim. 3.15.  S. Ambrose saith, DAMASUS was rector in his time; and PAUL is at this day: a Church one in faith, ancient in time, visible in succession, comely in order, conformable in actions; 
* It was S. Augustine's observation in his time.  she, that is in all places, and like herself, wheresoever she is; the root, without which the branches shall whither; the united body, out of which the divided members shall perish, and decay.   

§. 4. Of my Wife; etc.  
1. THe third Cause, which Sir Edward assigneth of my Alienation, is my Marriage; a yoke (saith 
o pag. 15.  he) to burdensome to your shoulders; the mariadge-God, Himenaeus, was none of your best friends, etc. Concerning which subject, I might entertain the Reader with a long discourse. But, cui bono? as Cassius was wont to say: to what good, or for what end, and purpose?  
2. Seeing two sorts of people, generally, in the world; Good, and Evil: Wise, and Foolish: Charitable, and Malicious; I have cast my reckoning thus: I shall not be condemned by the first, and, I care not to be accused by the second.  
3. Howbeit, to satisfy the just expectation of some, & idle curiosity of others, in this matter; I say, that I sought not my Wife in the beginning, but was sought by her friends; Gentlemen of quality, able, and willing to further me in the courses of this world, and specially in my late profession. I accepted their conditions, and liked hers; the promise was made, the knot was tied: yet so, that she was to remain, wholly, under their provision, until I should be actually possessed with all convenient means: and then her portion was to be in my hands, herself in my care.  
4. Now, if Sir Edward will press me yet farther with that uncivil demand of the 
p A. Gellius lib. 5. cap. 20  Roman Censor; Habésne uxorem ex animi tuisententiâ? I might answer unto him, as the party unto the Censor: Habeo equidem uxorem, sed non herclé ex animi tui sententiâ. It was enough for him, and me, to make our choice, to our own contentment, in this case. If there were any other default, Sir Edward knoweth the wise, & necessary counsel for me, and other husbands also: 
q A. Gell. l. 1. c. 17.  Vxoris vitium aut tollendum, aut ferendum: qui tollit, uxorem commodiorem praestat; qui fert, sese meliorem facit.  
5. But to deal with you, in good earnest; Sir: do not think so uncharitably of me, that I wanted due affection unto my spouse, or, that wanting due affection unto her, I would therefore renounce the Spouse of Christ; as you pretend your Church to be, & invest her with that name. No; there had been other alleviations in this behalf, not so unkind to her, not so dishonest before men, not so impious in the sight of God. But, that I might embrace a comfortable union with the Spouse of Christ (the Catholic, Roman, Apostolic Church) I am therefore separated by place (not love) from her, betwixt whom, and me, there is a perfect nearness in this great distance. And though Sir Edward's pen hath made a 
* See afterward. Chap. 2. §. 3. num. 22. 25.  fowl blot to the prejudice of her good affection towards me, yet I will believe it to be a part of the common wrongs, which we sustain from this ungentle Knight. And thus assuring both her, and him, that I want not affection, but means to express it (which I will endeavour to do, whether within, or without the Land) I will conclude this matter, and, therewith, this chapter also.  
6. Perhaps now, I may be condemned for writing too much, or too little in this kind; howbeit, he, that engageth me into the doubtful censure of the Readers, hath made the same adventure of his own fortune. If we far equally, I am eased by his company. If I far worse, I have patience to bear, and charity to forgive. If better, he hath no reason to complain.    

CHAP. II. Of sundry other crimes, objected unto me by Sir Edward, in his first (sifting) Paragraph.  

§. 1. Of my disconceipt toward the Catholic, Roman faith, after my Alienation from the Church of England.  
1. SIR; the amplitude of your discourse exceedeth the commission of your title. For though your first Paragraph doth promise (according to the inscription) 
r pag. 7.  to fift the CAUSES of my Alienation (which you have raised unto THREE) yet the greater part thereof spendeth itself in other pretended crimes; viz. disconceipt toward my present Religion; perjury in promises; astorgy, and unnatural affection unto my Father; and such like: things without coherence in themselves, or reference unto their title: & yet, Sir, you accuse the 
s pag. 2.  misshapen disproportion of my book; as though my conceits had pained the womb of my brains, and, striving for birth, had broken from me rather by violence, then by order. Which accusation may (perhaps) belong rather unto yourself, whose zeal to do me wrong, distempered the method of your thoughts; so that the things, which began to proceed from you at the first, retired themselves to yield passage unto the rest: as 
t Gen. 38.27.  Zara began first to come into the world, and yet withdrew himself, to give place unto the birth of Pharez.  
2. But I pass by your method, and I come unto your Matter; wherein if you be found defective also, either by your own invention (which is good) or by others suggestion (which I would rather believe, in this case) than your staining calumniations must, in the end, return, and ebb again upon you (or them) from whom they flowed in the beginning. And now I will treat particularly of the pretended crimes; which, being dispersed in your sifting Paragraph, shall be reduced here, more exactly, unto their several heads.  
3. The FIRST crimination therefore (annexed unto the former Causes) toucheth my disconceipt toward the Roman, Catholic faith: as though my Alienation from you, were rather in action, than affection; outward, them inward; in mouth, then mind: & this you prove by a triple evidence, or reason. FIRST. I do easily believe (say 
u pag. 16.  you) upon his credible report, that at such time, as M. Etkins (your old fellow chaplain, and friend) 
* at S. Omers.  desired your company to Brussels, or to England, you smote your hand upon your breast, and, in great passion, uttered these words; O that I might safely return, for that is my desire. Yea more; you 
* pag. 16.  say, that, at his sight, I had Peter's tears in my eyes, for the denial of my Master, etc.  
4. As for the person relating, he doth me wrong, if you wrong not him in the relation itself. For I appeal unto his conscience (which representeth things past, in her secret, and inward reflex) whether I gave him the least sign, or suspicion of inconstancy in this (truly, and only Catholic) faith, or whether I expressed any, the least, affection toward that, which he now doth, and I did sometimes, profess. Doth he not remember, that my Father, treating with me to show obedience, and humility in hearing the judgements of some principal Divines in England, but finding no hope of my conformity, according to his desire, said thereupon; What then should he do in England, if he be so obstinate? Yea, doth he not remember his own apology for me, in my Father's presence; In good faith I do believe, that he is so persuaded in his heart?  
5. That he proposed unto me a journey for Brussels, or England, or both, I deny not; as also that I showed an affection in me, loyal unto my Prince, dutiful unto my Country, loving unto my Friends (whom I was desirous to see) but yet without any such tragical action, or passion, to any such end, and purpose, as you, from him, pretend. Wherefore I must leave you both to divide this wrong betwixt yourselves; which is so much the greater (whether in you, or in him) because you are one, whom I never offended; he is one, whom I ever loved. And what soever the effects of his friendship toward me, have been, they are not proportionable unto this discourtesy, if the matter itself were true; as, God knoweth, it is most false. Seneca said wisely, upon his own experience; Quidam sunt amici leaves, & inimici graves: which yet I will never apply unto him, unless I find, by better information, than you seem either to receive, or give, that he hath done me this wrong, which you have published in his name. And so much for the first.  
6. Your SECOND proof ensueth; viz. 
x pag. 17.  The small liking, which you have to the Romish Religion, you sufficiently manifested, when as being reconciled to that Synagogue, by one Flood, a Priest, you did yet, after your return out of Yorkshire, writ a little Pamphlett of Venial, and Mortal sins, flat against the principles of that profession.  
7. If after Reconciliation unto the Catholic Church, I had written, or spoken against any article of her faith, my crime toward her, might seem inexpiable, and your advantage against me, very great. Howbeit, it is neither the one, that I am guilty of, nor the other, which I fear; but it was your pleasure, Sir, to make a chain of such wrongs, & to weave them in your discourse.  
8. I answer therefore, FIRST; that I wrote not that little Pamphlett, after my return out of Yorkshire, but before. SECONDLY; that as I came unreconciled into the presence of that Venerable Priest (F. Flood) so I never saw him, nor heard of him, until my arrival in S. Omers; where also himself had remained one whole year (at the least) before that time. And I marvel, that your intelligencer concealed this point from your notice; which he could not but know much more certainly, then that I was reconciled by such a Priest: though here also I leave your informer, and yourself, unto your better proofs. THIRDLY; that I wrote it according to my opinion therein, precisely at that hour. And truly this was one of the 3. or 4. points, wherein I had the learned, judicious, and expedite resolution of that Reverend Priest, after my arrival; being persuaded (absolutely) in most points, at that time, and chief in the chiefest, & metropolitical question, concerning the 
❀ Men must diligently seek out the true Church, that so they may rest in her judgement, saith D. Field in his epist. dedicat.  CHURCH. So then I neither wrote aghast that, which I did believe, nor yielded unto that, which I did not conceive. fourthly; that the occasion of writing it, was a certain conference betwixt me, and a Catholic gentleman; unto whose hands I delivered it, and desired him to procure me a good resolution thereunto. FIFTLY; that the occasions of publishing it, were many, and one principal; viz. to divert a strong suspicion, entertained (somewhere) to my prejudice, as I was induced to think by sundry reasons. SIXTLY; that some particulars in that pamphlet (as namely, 
* in fine.  Secreta mea mihi, etc. have long since made the construction more clear unto Sir Edward, and his world, which, sometimes, was more secret, and obscure.  
9 This is (good Readers) the true text of this matter, which now I refer unto your judicious interpretation. Let me add only a word (for a final complement herein) and say thus much; that if I were as guilty of, or in this fault, as my Accuser would make you believe, yet I might be excused rather than 
y See the Examen of Fox his Calendar. Part. 1. pag. 374. etc.  CRANMER himself, whose several Treatises pro, & contra, for, and against the Real Presence, were exhibited by Bonner in a public judgement; when it was no small mortification (you may think) unto that chandged Father, to behold the faces of his unlike children. Wherefore, 

z ovid. Met. 13.  Haud timeo, si jam nequeo defendere crimen,  
Cum tanto commune vivo.   
10. But as there is no proportion in our faults (if yet I committed any) in respect of all the circumstances, of Person, matter, manner, etc. so ZWINGLIUS, a greater Patriarch than he (and one of the 
a Apo. 11.3.  two witnesses against Antichrist, as 
b de Relig. in exposit. 4. Praecepti.  Zanchius believeth) may hold out his buckler for my defence. For he (
* Sir Edw. phrase. pag. 100  mark you me now) falling away from Luther, and teaching a doctrine (of the Sacrament) contrary unto his former preachings, confesseth plainly, that 
c De vera, & falsa Relig.  he knew the truth long before, but he served the time; wherein he is commended by Christ as a faithful, and wise servant, who giveth meat unto his family in due season. So saith your Zwinglius: of whom the censure of 
d De Eucharist. lib. 1. c. 1.  Bellarmine is (perhaps) very true; to wit: Zwinglius betrayeth his impiety to cover his ignorance. Howsoever it be; the censure of his fellow witness, 
e Loc. Com. Luth. Fabric. class 5. pag. 50.  M. LUTHER, is very terrible against all that Sacramentary faction; viz. He that taketh pleasure in his own damnation, let him believe that the truth is taught by these Spirits, since they began, and defend their opinions by lies.  
11. So much for your second proof; and now to your THIRD, which you deliver in these words. 
f pag. 19  It is not long since you have complained, through impatient emulation, and ambition, that, if you might have been then preferred, and not advised rather to return to the University, to repair your wings; You would not have changed your copy so soon, nor made so sorry a flight from us to ROME. This you know to be well known, and, upon farther occasion, may be better specified unto the world.  
12. I answer; The thought never entered into my heart, the speech never proceeded out of my mouth. And I am glad, as well for your own, as my sake, that you have some other Author, than yourself (who sit at the receipt of custom, and keep an auditt of intelligences) to specify in these behalf; that so, when he cometh forth, and crieth adsum, I may answer confidently, and say unto his face, 
* Psal. 26.12.  Mentita est iniquitas sibi. Wherefore, remove these wrongs from yourself unto their proper Authors, that I may behold them in their own centre: than you are free, whosoever shall be found guilty in this matter. For I assure you, that I am incredibly abused; and, whosoever the Author be, I beseech the Readers to understand, that 
g Matth. 1●. 28.  Inimicus homo hoc fecit.   

§. 2. Of unnatural affection to my Father.  
1. SIR Edward is desirous to make me odious, and contemptible in the eye of his world; and therefore he would show, that I am an unnatural Husband to my Wife, and, likewise, an unnatural Son unto my Father; persons, that should be conjoined with indissoluble bands of love. For the bands betwixt the first, are, sacramentally, Supernatural; betwixt the second, intrinsically Natural, and Inseparable in both. In the first two are made one: in the second, one brancheth from the other: so that, betwixt the Husband, and Wise, there is a concourse of equal duties: from the Father there is a decourse of affection unto the Son, and, from the Son, a recourse unto the Father.  
2. How I am condemned in the first respect, you have 
h Chap. 1. §. 4.  already seen; how I am condemned in the second, you shall now receive a double proof. FIRST. Your Father took a long journey (saith 
i pag. 17.  Sir Edward) to seek out his lost Son, who never opened his mouth to ask him blessing for his pains. Then (after an amplification of no value, or substance) he addeth: 
k pag. 18.  Was not this, I say, grief enough, but that you must deprive him also of that private duty, which was due unto him? And hereupon (amongst the rest) he breaketh out into this passion; 
l pag. 22.  If these be the fruits of your Religion, my Soul abhorreth it.  
3. Spare my Religion, good Sir (lest you increase the wrong; extending it unto many others, yea unto God himself) and lay the faults upon my person alone: so all Readers may condemn me, as a man unworthy to draw any more air, or to tread any longer upon the earth. For though all are not Fathers, yet all are children; & so, Piety in them will detest such impiety in me.  
4. But, 
m Daniel. 13.4.  revertimini ad judicium, etc. Return unto judgement (you impartial Readers) and you shall see, that I will specify in my own defence. And what specification can be more effectual in this case, then to produce those persons, who, only, can be witnesses either for Sir Edward, or against me, in this behalf?  
5. These are my Father himself, and my 
* See before; §. 1 ●…num. 3.  ancient friend. For my Father can not deny, that, as soon as I came into his unexpected presence (which was upon a sunday, in the afternoon) I did immediately humble my knee, as low as my foot, and desired his benediction, as in former times. The same night, and likewise the next morning (in the sight, and audience of M. Etkins, at each time) I performed the same duty, and in the same manner. Upon his departure, the same day, I entreated his blessing also, though not with the like humiliation of my body, as before, because our Farewell was taken in the open streets.  
6. And thus (as you see) at 4. several times, in the space of 24 hours, I most humbly, and affectionately yielded that private duty unto my loving Father, which Sir Edward first affirmeth, and then amplifieth upon it, at his pleasure (before, to mine, now to his own disgrace) that I NEVER opened my mouth to do. But he, that accuseth me herein, is the same man, who said; 
n See Chap. 1. §. 1. num. 4.14.  In your long prayer, at S. Dunstanes, the Reverend. BB. (yea even your own Lord, & Master) were EVER left out for wranglers, and Antichristian Hierarchies, etc.  
7. Now, if I would insist in the steps of your amplifying vain, you, Sir Edward, might pardon my just plea against your injust wrongs; and others would say, that it were lex talioms; a reflection of your own pen, and a 
* Agens agendo repatitur.  repassion from your own action. But it was my 
o See before; Chap. 1. §. 2. num. 17.  promise to spare you, though I paid others; and so I remit us both unto them, who have interest to give their censure in these things. For they, who will adventure to write, can not exempt themselves from the jurisdiction of their Readers; but they hold out their hands for every man to feel their pulse, and to judge of their temper. And so much for your first; now to your SECOND proof; which is more capital.  
8. 
p pag. 18.  Contrary to your Father's express commandment, and request, and your own solemn promise made unto him, you made his presence known to your CONFESSOR: whereby he might have been in danger, as much as in you lay, to have lost not only his unnatural Son, but even his dearest life, in a strange land.  
9 Rhetoric still; but more bloody than before. As for myself (the principal in this accusation) I will say nothing: yet give me leave to speak for others, who am thus condemned myself. Let me then be punctual with you, and search into the probability of this danger. What was it, which my Father, & my Friend did fear? Open HOSTILITY, or private VIOLENCE, or formal JUSTICE?  
10. Not open hostility; for there is a confirmed peace, a free intercourse, and inter-traffique betwixt each country. And how many Protestants, of different quality, as well before, as since that time, have conversed in S. Omers, more publicly also, without any molestation? Yea I know, that some gave offence, but received none.  
11. Not private violence; for what example have you in this kind? If any, produce it: if none, why should they be the first? And because you seem to lay a suspicion upon the Fathers of the SOCIETY; let me ask you first, whether I am, or were, in any grace with them, or no? You say that I am; & your own language is this: 
q pag. 4.  You are matriculated amongst those merciless hellhounds. Let me ask you secondly; whether, you think, I had so little grace in me, that I would not have interposed my life, and blood, to hinder such an unchristian design?  
12. Accuse me, as you please; but let it not be offensive unto you, that I should speak for others, and testify what I know, upon my own experience; which teacheth me to speak better things. First then, I say for that SOCIETY; that, as their state of life is, so are their actions; religious. I am a witness (for as I have heard, so I have seen) of the candour, and sweetness, wherewith those Fathers have entertained their contreymen (different from them in Religion, as my Father is) and gave no signification (in their words, or actions) of domestic sufferings: 
1 Gen. 45.  like joseph, forgetting, and forgiving, the unkindness of his Brethren; recompensing the hatred, which they find at home, with love in a strange land. Which as the parties can not deny, so they can not but confess also, that they were not in fear of the dangers, which Sir Edward doth suggest, nor in hope of the courtesies, which themselves did find. For which, then, of their good deeds, will he stone these Fathers?  
13. Secondly; I can not be silent in the behalf of my Confessor (lest I should deny his singular merits) the instrumental Cooperatour with God, unto my unspeakable comfort. Why should Sir Edward accuse him, whose innocent thoughts were not imbrued in this imaginary effusion of blood? He loved the Son too well to hate the Father: neither was there any cause for my corporal Father to be jealous of my spiritual Father; since his care was to save my soul, but not to destroy his life.  
14. Now, if open hostility, and private violence could not be feared, was it the form of justice, which was dreadful in their thoughts? By what sword? Ecclesiastical, or Temporal? Not Ecclesiastical; for as there is no Inquisition, which you can pretend; so the jurisdiction of the Bishop could not minister occasion of their fear. For the most Reverend 
¶ D. JACOBUS BLASAEUS; natione Flander, affectione Anglus.  Bishop of that City (
s Sir Edward; speaking of Francis, Duke of Anjou. pag. 106.  of whom I am glad to make so worthy mention; as well in respect of his own parts; he being a second, true Ambrose, in whom the great variety of learning is accompanied with eminent sanctity of life, and an excellent gravity of person, tempered with gracious affability of nature; as also in respect of his general love unto our contreymen, and special benefits unto many; in which number I am) the Bishop, I say, being not their Pastor, had neither will, nor power, to proceed against such, as offend not by public, and notorious scandal; from which they did wholly decline, as knowing what appertaineth unto honest, and good deportment in these affairs. Not Temporal; for the cause being not civil, but religious, the temporal sword dependeth upon the ecclesiastical, and is not drawn before; but after it; as 
t S. Bernard. de Consider. lib. 4.  S. Bernard saith: the material sword, and spiritual sword are both belonging unto the Church: that is to be exercised for the Church, this by the Church; this by the hand of the Priest, that by the hand of the soldier; sed sanè ad nutum Sacerdotis, & jussum Imperatoris.  
15. If then they were (as, indeed, they were) free from danger in, or by any of these means, either 
u Psal. 52.6.  they feared, where no fear was, or, by this pretence of fear, they would derive hatred upon those men, who were desirous to give them the pledges of their love. And this is no new devise in our contreymen (of Sir Edward's Religion) to speak evil for good (upon their return out of Catholic lands) to procure unjust hatred by unnecessary fear: as 
❀ Numb. 13 33.  some ungrateful visitors of Canaan, did speak evil of it, and gave out reports of the terrible Giants therein, purposely to deter the people from making entrance into the land of promise.   

§. 3. Violation of promises, and Oaths.  
1. I Am now arrived upon the last accusation, which toucheth my infidelity, and perjury. An example of the first, was mentioned 
* §. 2. num. 8.  before, and is to be considered here; viz. Contrary to your solemn promise, you made your Father's presence known to your Confessor. Which accusation may appear untrue; because the Letter (whereof something is 
† Chap. 1. §. 2. num. 11.  already spoken) though it hath not favoured me in any relation, yet it is wholly silent in this point. For thus saith the Author thereof, in my Father's name. Being in S. Omers, I willed, and charged him (my Son) not to reveal my being there: not withstanding he made it known the same night; as, upon examination, he confessed unto me the next morning: which made us presently to come away, fearing our lives to be in danger amongst such a company of hellhounds, as that town is stuffed withal.  
2. Behold (on my Father's part) willing, and charging me not to reveal his presence: but (on my part) no promise; either simple, or solemn. Which point being of singular advantage against me, if it had been true, had not been concealed in that Letter, wherein each particular hath the weight of all circumstances (more than due also) to aggravate the quality of my offence. But as my memory doth not witness, nor my conscience accuse me of any such solemn promise, so it imported me, for just causes, to retain my liberty therein.  
3. For when my Father, and my Friend (whose true name, and quality were known, upon some accident, before I saw him) pressed me very earnestly to return; I desired, of them, a time of deliberation, for my mature, and certain answer. 
x Cic.  Diu deliberandum, quod statuendum semel. I was to consider long upon that, which I was, but once, to undertake; my case being like unto his, who hath the conduct of an army, & can make but one fault in war (as 
y Plutarch, in apo●… Reg. & 〈◊〉  Scipio said; A man can not make two faults in war) because there is no remedy, but ruin by the first, before he can commit the second. So it was in my affair; I was to stand, or fall, in body, and soul, upon this acceptance, & present choice.  
4. Whereupon, finding myself moved in conscience to take advise with, and from, him, whose counsel was unto me, as the oracle of God, in all spiritual things; I acquainted my Father, expressly, with my resolution herein; showing him also, that, by detection of his presence, no danger should, or could ensue. And though he was very willing to divert me from this course, yet, seeing my constancy, he made me an absolute (I might say solemn) promise, not to departed from S. Omers, before the tuesday morning; so that I should have the whole monday for time of deliberation, according to my request. So still, here was no promise from me, not to reveal his presence; but rather the contrary: and this may be sufficient unto the objection of the Knight.  
5. Now, whatsoever my Father's commandment, or charged was, or howsoever he may think, that I erred in obedience, or others, that I failed in discretion; yet my conscience did thus solicit me, with her effectual motions. But whereas it is said farther, that I, upon examination the next morning, confessed, how I had revealed his presence, the last light, unto a Popish Priest, and that THIS made him come away, fearing, etc. I must humbly entreat pardon to show, that my confession was not the cause of this sudden departure.  
6. For when I took leave of him, and of my friend, upon the Sunday night, I left them in their resolution (as it seemed unto me) to expect my answer (for return) upon monday in the evening, or (rather) upon tuesday morning; and, accordingly, I intended to prepare my answer, either yea, or no, as the difficulties should present themselves unto me, upon more exact recollection of my thoughts. Howbeit, coming unto his chamber, on the monday morning, I found him providing to be gone, with as much speed, as he could. Wherefore my said confession (that I had revealed his presence unto a Popish Priest) was not occasion of that departure, which he had prepared, and resolved upon, before I entered into his sight. And though this were no less grievous unto me, then unexpected, yet he gave me no such reason of this departure; but, that his money fell short; things were uncertain; etc.  
7. Thus much of my Infidelity; now I am to treat of Perjury: whereof three remonstrances are produced by the Knight. FIRST. 
z pag. 17.  You did protest, as you hoped to have any part in our Savious passion, that, within three weeks, at the farthest (if you lived so long) you would be in England, after your Father's return; etc. 
a pag. 18.  You made your Father a sorrowful witness of your perjurious vow.  
8. I will not deny any thing, 
b pag. 12.  whereunto my Knowledge can suscribe. It is true therefore; I promised to return. But you must observe with me FIRST, the inference of this point, and the connexion, which it hath with the premises. viz. You wrote a little Pamphlet contrary unto the principles of the Romish profession. When? After your reconciliation unto that Synagogue. What doth that prove? Your small liking unto that Religion. And (saith the Knight, immediately thereupon) were you not now in Hucksters hands, whose vigilant eyes have mewed you up in their idolatrous cage, I dare say you had been in England long si●…ce; FOR so you did protest, etc. Behold then the inference, here, is to show my proclivity to renounce the Catholic Roman faith, as a thing not entertained in the secret approbation of my heart. But of this scandalous imputation I have already treated in the 
* §. 1. num. 6 etc.  precedents; unto which I must now remit the courteous Reader.  
9 SECONDLY; the manner of this protestastion (viz. as I hoped to have any part, etc.) I neither can remember, nor will acknowledge to have proceeded from my lips. That, which my memory, and conscience can best testify unto me, is, that I said; by the grace of God. Which is a speech of great importance, I confess; but yet (formally) it hath not such power in exaggeration, as the other.  
10. THIRDLY; because Sir Edward doth deal so precisely with me, I may not give him leave thus to circumcise the time, nor to change my words, at his own pleasure. For I said not absolutely, WITHIN THREE WEEKS, at the farthest, I will return; but I added a forsan (with which particle Sir Edward helpeth himself 
c pag. 47.  elsewhere, to triumph over me, yet without a victory) PERHAPS within three, or four weeks: I cannot certainly resolve upon the time. And so, I know no reason, why, upon my return within this year, or more, my word might not stand inviolate, and entire, in that respect, if I would rather press Sir Edward with outward reasons, them acquaint him with my inward thoughts.  
11. To come then more particularly unto matter itself; as I deny not my speech, and, therewith, my intention, that, by the grace of God, I would return, etc. so there are many circumstances herein, and specially three, which may ease the burden, and clear the difficulty, on my behalf.  
12. FIRST; that my Father, and friend, knew my resolution to be unprepared; and yet now they would force it unto a birth, before the prefixed time. For it was my HOPE, and it was their PROMISE, that I should have the whole Monday for my deliberation; which was now denied. Wherefore this their sudden (and unnecessary) departure (contrary unto both) was the first cause of my abortive promise; borne, before it was conceived.  
13. SECONDLY; my sympathising eyes beheld the stream of tears, flowing from a deep fountain of love, and grief, in my dear, and careful Father: which was the strongest eloquence of Nature to persuade my unperswaded self; who (being 
* S. August. Conf. lib. 3. cap. 12.  filius tantarum lachrymarum) knew not what to say, or think, when my Soul suffered a dissipation of all her powers. metal so softened was fit for any impression. It was not a return, into a COUNTRY, with a FATHER (things of no small value, in all men's estimation) but the present expense of my dearest life, which I could, and should have promised to satisfy such love, and to mollify such grief. Si haec tempestas propterme orta est, etc. if all this be for my sake, dispose of me, at your own will.  
14. THIRDLY; though I was thus prevented by them, besides my expectation, and so carried out of myself, beyond my strength; yet there was annexed unto my promise of return, a condition of security. But where should I rereive it? At Dover.  
15. Behold now my error, which drew on my fault. For having thus incautelously, and improvidently (in my benumbed spirits) made my promise to return, so that I might receive security at Dover; and perceiving, afterward, what danger I might incur (though I doubted not of my friends good will, but of their power only) I desired, that my security might give me meeting at Calais: lest, otherwise, the Land might prove more dangerous than Sea; and specially for two reasons. The ONE; because I then had (as now I have) a grounded resolution of heart, to remain a constant member of the Catholic, Roman Church (from which the certainty of faith is to be sought, saith 
d Part. 1. Serm. coram Alexand. 5.  Gerson; a 
e D. Field. pag. 85.  worthy guide of God's Church) & therefore I should be less acceptable unto them, whom, in all temporal things, I would gladly reverence, and obey. The OTHER; because I stood then charged upon the point of Reconciliation, which M. Etkins did insinuate unto me at S. Omers, and Sir Edward hath now published in his Letter, to prejudice the integrity of my 
* §. 1. num. 6.7.8.  Faith, and safety of my Life. But as he doth untruly accuse me of Reconciliation in ENGLAND, so my ignorance of the Law made me too confident, and too fearrefull also; in this respect. Too confident; for when I knew, experimentally, that Reconciliation is only a Sacramental act, to reduce us into the favour of God, and unity of his Church, I did not suspect the severity of the Law therein; & therefore, out of the comfort, and exultation of mine own heart, I imparted something, in this behalf, by my Letters unto a person of eminent dignity, and place. Too fearful: for understanding (afterward) the penalty of Reconciliation, and not knowing how far the statute extendeth in this case, I thought the peril to be equal, whether within his Majesty's dominions, or without the same; neither had I any notice to the contrary, till I perused the statutes; not many hours, before the writing hereof.  
16. Now, if my Father, and my Friend, did fear the loss of their dearest lives, where no law was in force against them, nor any man conceived a thought prejudicial unto the least drop of their blood, and yet did therefore departed from S. Omers, against their own promise, and without any cause; had not I just reason to provide securely for myself, when my life should be 
* As I conceived, in manner aforesaid.  actually in the mercy of justice, & exposed unto continual danger, upon some inevitable acts of my Religion?  
17. Thus you (see ●ood Readers) wherein I fail, as also upon what precedent, and consequent reasons. If, heretofore, you have wholly condemned me, I appeal from your first, unto your second, and better thoughts. If, now, you excuse me wholly, you do more for me, than I would do for myself. For as I find some thing, which I may defend, and some thing, which I may excuse, so there is some thing, which I may, and do condemn. And so I recommend myself, with this matter, unto the mercy of God, and unto the charity of the Readers; desiring them to make this case their own, before they give their sentence upon me.  
18. The SECOND remonstrance of my perjury, Sir Edward delivereth in this sort. 
f pag. 18.  The like solemn oath you took in the presence of M. Etkins, that, upon the faith of a Roman Catholic, and as you hoped to be saved, this book of yours, which you then showed him, should not be printed.  
19 A solemn promise before; and now a solemn oath; in both which your dealing is not simple, but double. Leaving therefore the forms of these protestations, as calumniating exaggerations (for, evermore, there is 
❀ 4. Reg. 4.40.  Mors in olla; some evil herb in your best pottage) I answer, that it was my promise, and resolution to suppress that book. But how? Respectively, upon the opinion, and hope of my return; which coming not to pass, according to my just, and necessary desire, I was, and am (in conscience, and in reason) acquitted from that promise. Hear also you must observe, that M. Etkins was at S. Omers in May, and that this Book was suppressed until 
† It was then first committed to the press.  October ensuing: whereby you may perceive, that, till I was in despair of return, I gave it not leave to issue forth into the public view.  
20. Farther; I was yet provoked hereunto by many, and gross indignities; of some my Betters, whom I always honoured; of some my Equals, whom I always loved; of some my Inferiors, whom I never offended; of many strangers, whom I had wronged, no more than Sir Edward himself; and this, he will confess, was in a very mean degree.  
21. Finally; charity unto myself, to vindicate my name from reproach; charity unto others, to draw them out of the snare of death; and (above all) my gratitude unto my Lord for his great mercy, did urdge, enforce, and impel me unto that course.  
22. I come now unto the THIRD, and last remonstrance of my perjury; viz. 
g pag. 18.  Your Wife, and Creditors are thoroughly acquainted with many such your voluntary, and intended perjuries; as, upon your next reply, shall be more particularly specified: under whose name so ever you mean to cover it.  
23. You see that I come unmasked into your presence; I borrow not the face of any man to cover my shame: Specify therefore, if you please; and, if it be an act of Chivalry to be an Index-maker of other men's lives, spare me not: Vtere tuo judicio; nihil enim impedio. But yet, 
* Terent. And. Act. 1. Sc. 2.  Ne temerè facias, neque tu haud dicas tibi non praedictum, CAVE. Let discretion be the usher of your action, and temember, that TAKE HEED is a fair warning.  
24. Now to your accusation. It may seem strange, that neither your Charity prevailed with you, nor Philosophy taught you, to deal more sparingly with my Intention; which being not a transient, but an immanent act (inhering in the will) is known (certainly) unto none, but unto God alone; by whom also it may be communicated unto others, by revelation, or represented by vision, according to his pleasure.  
25. But it is a more unchristian, and unknightly part to make my WIFE a witness against me (& specially, without any just cause) which the Laws themselves permit not, or exact not, in cases of greater importance. Howbeit, my charity toward her will make me uncharitable toward you. Wherefore, Sir, I believe you not. Your wrongs against me teach me, that you may wrong her; so that, accepting your testimony in this case, I should make a forfeiture of my reason.  
26. As for my Creditors; I confess unto you, that, upon probability, or hope, or (supposed) certainty of receiving moneys, I have been sometimes deceived, and they, consequently, by me. I confess unto you farther, that, near upon my departure, I was more liberal in my promise unto one man, than I should have been. And thus Sir Edward also is now become my CONFESSOR; who (I doubt not) for my plainness, and sincerity, will give me a speedy absolution, and a gentle penance.  
27. Hear (courteous Readers) the Scene of criminal accusations is done. Wherefore I will take the Actor aside (his part being ended) and, in a friendly manner, I will address myself to entertain him with a new discourse.   

§. 4. A kind expostulation with Sir Edward, upon the former wrongs; and a charitable interpretation thereof.  
1. SIR EDWARD; there are three things, which I esteem very dear, & precious: the safety of my Life; the honesty of my Name; the salvation of my Soul. The first may be, the second is, the third neither is, nor may be, in your power. The first I will submit unto the benignity of my Sovereign, to give, or take it: the third standeth at the mercy of my Lord, to save, or destroy it: the second remaineth at the charity of others, to suffer wrong, or to obtain right. For as in this particular (concerning my Name) you are active, and I passive; so the Reader is uncertain unto us both, either to pronounce me guilty, or you injurious.  
2. But I have unfolded, and he may now behold, your SIFTING Paragraph; unto which if I should give the due aspiration (
* judic. 12.6.  Shibboleth for Sibboleth) you might, and he would, pardon my just boldness therein.  
3. For FIRST; my Innocency, in the things themselves, pleadeth effectually for my defence, and your reproof. SECONDLY; my Innocency also toward your own person; which I never offended by hand, mouth, or heart; in deed, word, or thought. THIRDLY; our unequal quality saith, that a noble Knight should not thus entreat a poor Scholar; since you should be as far from doing me a wrong with a Pen, as I am unable, or unfit, to answer it with a Sword. For, howsoever you speak of your 
h pag. 4. lin. 3.  often employments with both, yet I (and I know not your mind also) would rather choose, with 
i Plutarch. in Eumen.  Eumenes, to bear pen, and paper, then, with Neoptolemus, a sword, & targett. fourthly; the manner, by which your matter is carried, proclaimeth, that you were more willing to disgrace my name, then able to resolve my doubts.  
4. I said, and I showed, that the evidence of Scripture, the rule of Apostolical Tradition, the practice of the ancient, and UNIVERSAL Church, the consent of Fathers, the untruths of some chief Protestants, did strongly induce, and persuade me, first to a just suspicion, them to a necessary rejection of my late protestantical faith. And lest the Answerer of my discourse should 
* First Motive. pag. 94.  throw dust into the air, with more contention, then profit (as you have done) I prevented such exorbitant courses, and prescribed the due, true, and absolute method, which he must observe; viz. to oppose, and to prove, a CONTRARY assertion unto each particular in my discourse: as, that Prayer for the dead descended not from the Apostles: that the Universal Church (in S. Augustine's time, even by his own testimony) did not refer Prayer for the dead unto the SOULS; and to the souls, remaining in a temporal pain. etc.  
5. These things you should have fairly, and orderly refuted; taking the particulars in their place, and course, as they were plainly, and methodically represented unto you in my MOTIVE. Then there had been charity in your pains, and judgement in your fact. But you (making a digression in your very ingress) sift the causes of my Alienation (not such as I deliver, but such as you devise) and run, vastly, into my Puritamsme, my perjury, my unnatural affection, my disconceipt toward the Roman faith, etc. that so, undermining my credit, with your engines, at the first, you might, afterward, blow me up with more facility, and ease.  
6. Now, for my own comportment, and behaviour in making my answer unto this sifting Paragraph; though the Reader (I presume) hath (or might) observe it, without any farther remonstrance, or declaration from me; yet I will briefly, and plainly bring it unto his consideration, in this place.  
7. FIRST then he might observe me to be free from the commission of many, and from the concealment of other faults. In the first respect; a known wrong is a sufficient remedy for itself. In the second; my sorrow may be a satisfaction. 
k Senecae.  Quem poenitet peccâsse, penè est innnocens. Let my Repentance, therefore, for that, which I have done amiss, make it undone, in your charitable thoughts. God himself accepteth this Sacrifice yea his Mercy bindeth the eyes of his Divinity, hiding that from himself, which every man seethe, & making him forget that, which he knew, before it was committed. Hear is the prototypus, by which our acts, and judgements must be drawn; that so we may make ourselves like unto him in our actions, who made us like himself in our creation.  
8. SECONDLY; he might observe my Patience, which showeth itself in the perpetual course of my style. We are reviled, and we revile not again. Herein I had rather have a victory over myself, to conquer my passions, then over you to requite your wrongs. Besides; I have had a remembrance, and respect of your blood, as being a 
l pag. 50.  Gentleman; of your quality, as being a Knight; of your favour, and grace with his Majesty, as being his 
m pag. 105.  Servant; of your consanguinity, and affinity, as being allied unto persons of highest rank; finally, of your 
† pag. 49.  affection unto that 
❀ Oxford.  University, which I am bound to reverence, and of your investiture therein with a 
n pag. 6.  Degree, by which you are honoured, and which is honoured by you.  
9 Thus I have subdued my passions unto the strength of reason, and humbled my reason unto the power of grace; that, as the Rock standeth unmovable in the raging, and furious waves, so I might be quiet, modest, & temperate in the midst of these great wrongs; so great (perhaps) as can admit no parallel in these later years, and upon the like respects.  
10. And thus, as the benevolous Reader hath seen my carriage to be no ways correspondent unto the wrongs, so farther, he shall now see my CHARITY also; which will easily believe, that, since Malice, and Falsehood, are ignoble vices (and specially in men of his eminent place) Sir Edward may, and will decline these imputations, by some probable, and convenient excuse.  
11. FIRST then, it may be, that secret love to recall me, and not open malice to defame me, invited him unto this course; as innocent 
o Genes. 44.  Benjamin was accused of secret theft, by the policy of joseph, his kind, and unknown brother. And this I do the rather conceive, because my 
❀ In the aforesaid Letter.  Father himself seemeth to be in hope, that the whole rabble of Papists shall understand so much (by Sir Edward Hoby) of the cause of my coming to their hodge-podge Religion, that they will be ashamed to patronize me any longer, if they be not past all shame. The meaning whereof is, either that I should want my part in the 
† Terram dedit homimbus. Psal. 113.16  common portion of mankind (which I can not suppose) or that, being destitute of relief in all Catholic lands, I might return home again, as the 
p Luc. 15.  lost Son, unto his loving Father.  
12. SECONDLY; it may be, that, in pursuing, & hunting me, he followed the sent of information, and drew my picture conformably unto that Idea, which other men's report, and not his own fiction, had formerly imprinted in his mind. So Pythia gave her answer, as she received it from Apollo; and Tiresias prophesied upon the flight of birds, according to the relation of Manto. In this case, the thing may be false, but the person doth not 
❀ Mentiri est contra mentem ire. S. Aug.  lie, whose words are answerable unto his thoughts.  
13. If it be so with you, Sir Edward (and I wish it so, for your own honour) you are wronged the more, but I nothing the less. Wherefore (by allusion, not comparison) I may justly say; 
q Io. 19.11.  He, that delivered me unto you, hath the greater sin. A sin toward me, by abusing my name; a sin toward you, by abusing your pen. Such a victory, therefore, as you have gotten herein, if it were my shame, yet it is also your own grief. Victus occubuit, & victor flevit.  
14. But yet I live; that is the mercy of my Lord: I want not convenient means; that is the kindness of my friends: I remain in their good opinion, not impaired, but increased; that is against a subtle (perhaps malicious) project. My conscience is free; wherein I triumph: my name is cleared; wherein I rejoice.  
15. 
r Gal. 6.17.  From henceforth, then, let no man be troublesome unto me, nor unto himself. This is my first, and it shall be my last (the non ultra) of my labours in this kind. For since my Adversaries have failed in the beginning (the first borne, & strength) of their assaults, can I look for greater exactness in their rechardge, & in their second attempt? No; 
s Io. 2.10.  Omnis homo primùm bonum vinum ponit, et, cùm inebriati fuerint, tunc id, quod deterius est: the best is drawn at the first; that, which ensueth, is less sincere, and pure. Farther; since a KNIGHT hath failed in his enterprise, can I expect more fidelity from others, whose quality hath not such a special obligation of HONOUR, to require it at their hands? No; Scholars, who profess the pen, may be more profound in knowledge, but Knights, who profess the sword, are more punctual in their credit.  
16. Finally therefore; let my Adversaries throw out their calumnious scripts, as the hail, yet no indignity shall trouble my composed thoughts; but, 
t Luc 21.19.  possessing my soul in patience, I will answer the Authors with silence, their works with contempt.   
The end of the FIRST PART.    

AN ADVERTISEMENT to the Readers.  
BEENEVOLOUS READERS; peradventure you have marveled very much, Why my Answer unto Sir EDWARD HOBYES' Letter, hath been so long in coming? and will marvel more, Why, being now come, it is so short? Unto both these demands, I will give you a satisfaction; brief, and true.  
Concerning the FIRST then; you must understand, that, whereas Sir Edward's Letter was published in june last, and had 
In his Epist. to the Ladies.  direction, from him, to salute me at S. Omers; I departed thence in May before, and travailed into France: where I had the first notice of this Letter, about the midst of july following, but had no sight thereof till about the end of that month; casually also, as it passed, by me in Rouen, unto a Doctor in Paris: so that I could not then retain it, above 8. hours, in my hands. And though I gave present order unto a Post, to bring me a copy from London, yet he failed me; and so I was constrained (upon his return) to borrow the former copy; which I received in September; but, for some impediments, it lay by me, until October; when (according to the small portion of time, which I could allot unto such affairs) I began to address my answer.  
Whereby, as the Reader may perceive the causes of this delay, so Sir Edward himself may see the little courtesy of the LADIES to him, in recompense of his great 
In his said Letter unto them.  kindness to them; who would not vouchsafe him the service, or (to use his own word) yield him so much boon, as to procure the delivery of his enclosed Letter unto me, at S. Omers; whither (as far, as I can learn) it was never convaighed by their means.  
Concerning the SECOND; it may please you to understand farther, that, as I provided my answer unto the whole Letter (digested, by the Authout, into SIX PARAGRAPHS; as you have already seen in my Preface) and had imprinted a very small parcel thereof, I was certified by a Catholic Gentleman (coming lately, out of England, into these parts) that my ANSWER unto Sir Edward Hoby (and specially for the moral points, in his sifting Paragraph) was earnestly expected, both by my friends, & adversaries; amongst whom, Master L. D. (a Minister, and sometimes kindly affected towards me) bestowing his liberality upon M. Humphrey Leech, and me, pretended, that I neither durst, nor could answer the KNIGHT; and, that my long silence was a sufficient proof.  
For this respect then, I am enforced to send away this First Part of my Apology with speed, and to make it the harbinger of the rest. A second reason also of this single, and hasty birth, is, in regard of the news (truly, and justly grievous unto my heart) which was brought unto me, by the said Cath. Gentleman, concerning my late, honourable Lord, the L. Bishop of London, lying sick, & in eminent peril of death. Wherefore, having 
Pag. 4.12.  appealed unto his Lordship, as being a most competent witness for my defence, I desired, that (if it were possible) this poor schedule might be presented unto his view, before his passage out of this world. And, if my heartiest prayers could prevail any thing with him, who hath sovereign power over us all, for Life, & Death, for Body, and Soul, he knoweth, that clamavi de profundis etc. I have called, and I have cried unto him, out of the depth of my soul, for my said loving Master; either to grant him a longer life here, or an happier elsewhere. His affection toward me deserved this requital from me; as you may perceive by his own words; viz. I wish M. higgon's better, than any man in England; I except not his own Father, etc. which he 
Fulham house. 9 August. 1609.  wrote unto a very honourable Gentleman; avowing unto him farther, upon his credit, that he neither knew, nor heard of Sir Edward Hobies' book, till he saw it in print.  
Thus you have (good Readers) a satisfaction unto each demand. It may please you now finally to understand, that the residue of my Apology (wherein, I am sorry that the Knight doth provoke me to encounter his weak, untrue, and scandalous exceptions) shall come forth, in due time, accompanied with a Reply unto D. Mortons' Answer; which he calleth a direct one; but he shall see it corrected, to his benefit, if he will, or to his loss, though he would not. If the delay shall prove more tedious, then will content you, and the discourse more rude, then will become me; you must remember, that, as my Travail was, and is, intended for other uses, then to write, so it doth not afford either leisure, or means, which are requisite in this behalf.  
Far you well. Rouen. Decemb. 24. 1609. Your T. H.  
Dilige Deum, amicos in Deo, inimicos propter Deum.  S. AUGUST. 
FINIS.   

Errors passed in some copies.  
Pag. lin. Fault. Correction. 7. 27. clamours clamorous 8. 32. great) in great (in 12. 30. ambigous ambiguous 15. 9 porportion proportion 16. 7. pen, pen) 26. 29. the censure of Bell. Bellarmine's censure 32. 8. forgetting forgetting 40. 13. then sea then the Sea In the Margin. 16. Galath. 5.9. Galath. 5.15.