that night, the Earl acquainted Dr. Laud, then Bishop of London, and after Archbishop of Canterbury, with his kinsman’s irresolution.  And the Bishop did the next day so convince Mr. Herbert, that the refusal of it was a sin, that a tailor was sent for to come speedily from Salisbury to Wilton, to take measure, and make him canonical clothes against next day; which the tailor did:  and Mr. Herbert being so habited, went with his presentation to the learned Dr. Davenant,[20] who was then Bishop of Salisbury, and he gave him institution immediately,—­for Mr. Herbert had been made Deacon some years before,—­and he was also the same day—­which was April 26th, 1630—­inducted into the good, and more pleasant than healthful, Parsonage of Bemerton; which is a mile from Salisbury.

[Sidenote:  Preparation]

I have now brought him to the Parsonage of Bemerton,[21] and to the thirty-sixth year of his age, and must stop here, and bespeak the Reader to prepare for an almost incredible story, of the great sanctity of the short remainder of his holy life; a life so full of charity, humility, and all Christian virtues, that it deserves the eloquence of St. Chrysostom to commend and declare it:  a life, that if it were related by a pen like his, there would then be no need for this age to look back into times past for the examples of primitive piety; for they might be all found in the life of George Herbert.  But now, alas! who is fit to undertake it?  I confess I am not; and am not pleased with myself that I must; and profess myself amazed, when I consider how few of the Clergy lived like him then, and how many live so unlike him now.  But it becomes not me to censure:  my design is rather to assure the Reader, that I have used very great diligence to inform myself, that I might inform him of the truth of what follows; and though I cannot adorn it with eloquence, yet I will do it with sincerity.

When at his induction he was shut into Bemerton Church, being left there alone to toll the bell,—­as the Law requires him,—­he staid so much longer than an ordinary time, before he returned to those friends that staid expecting him at the Church-door, that his friend Mr. Woodnot looked in at the Church-window, and saw him lie prostrate on the ground before the Altar; at which time and place—­as he after told Mr. Woodnot—­he set some rules to himself, for the future manage of his life; and then and there made a vow to labour to keep them.

[Sidenote:  and resolutions]

And the same night that he had his induction, he said to Mr. Woodnot, “I now look back upon my aspiring thoughts, and think myself more happy than if I had attained what then I so ambitiously thirsted for.  And I now can behold the Court with an impartial eye, and see plainly that it is made up of fraud and titles, and flattery, and many other such empty, imaginary, painted pleasures; pleasures, that are so empty, as not to satisfy when they are enjoyed.  But in God,