of particular opinions; and so perfect was he in love, that in the heat of controversy he felt no contempt for his opponents, and spoke no evil of them. He saw that they all belonged to the same great army, and were equally in earnest in trying to understand and carry out their Lord's commands.

Like many of the heroes of Queen Elizabeth's reign, Richard Hooker was a Devonshire man. He was born at Heavitree, near Exeter, about the year 1553. When Queen Elizabeth came to the throne in 1558, he was a little boy five years old. His father and mother had already begun to notice his quick intelligence; and they were struck, too, with the singularly sweet, calm disposition of their little boy, and with his loving obedience to all their wishes. He had early teaching from his mother in the stories and truths of the Bible, and training in all good habits. At school he got on so well that when the time came when his parents thought of apprenticing him to some trade, his schoolmaster begged he might go on teaching him without any other reward than the pleasure of training a pupil who, he believed, would be able in later years to do good service for God in the world.

There was at that time a Mr. John Hooker, who was an uncle of Richard's, a man of some means, and Chamberlain of the City of Exeter; and some years before, it happened that Bishop Jewel, himself a Devonshire man, had been sent to Exeter on a mission to the Churches there, and during this visit he had made the acquaintance of Mr. John Hooker. When, therefore, the good schoolmaster had taught Richard Hooker all he could, he persuaded Mr. John Hooker to undertake to send his nephew to the university for one year, believing he would soon get known there, and be helped forward in some way to the conclusion of his college education. Mr. John Hooker now remembered his acquaintance with Jewel, and he took

a journey to Salisbury to see the bishop, and have a talk with him about his clever nephew. At this visit it was settled that at Easter the schoolmaster, whose name is not known, was to bring Richard Hooker to Salisbury, that the bishop might judge whether the young Hooker was really such a remarkable lad as his uncle believed him to be. So in the spring days at Easter, the schoolmaster and his pupil set forth, probably on foot, to travel from Exeter to Salisbury. We can fancy the anxiety of the father and mother and the good uncle, as they bid the boy good-bye, and what hopes and fears would fill the hearts of the two travellers on their way at the thought of how the young scholar would acquit himself before the learned Bishop Jewel, and whether he would be able to do credit to his master's teaching and his uncle's good opinion. But Richard Hooker had no doubt already learnt something of that steadfast trust in God which enabled him in after-life to believe that all things are working together for good; and he knew that many a prayer would be offered for him at home, for his mother was said to be like Monica, the mother of St. Augustine, in her constant prayers for her son.

The bishop was so much pleased with the learning and intelligence of Hooker, and with the boy's appearance and behaviour, that he promised to provide for his going to Oxford; and he also made the schoolmaster a present. Soon after Richard Hooker's entrance at Corpus Christi College, Oxford, he fell ill of a dangerous sickness which lasted for two months, during which time his mother most earnestly begged his life of God; and after his recovery, he would often say that he could only pray that he might never occasion any sorrow to so good a mother, and that he loved her so dearly that he would endeavour to be good, as much for her sake as for his own." As soon as he was strong enough he walked from Oxford to Exeter to see his mother, stopping on his way at Salisbury, where he dined

with Bishop Jewel. On leaving, the bishop brought to him. a staff, and said to him, "Richard, I do not give but lend you this, my horse; be sure you be honest and bring it back to me at your return this way to Oxford. And I do now give you ten groats to bear your charges to Exeter; and here is ten groats more, which I charge you to deliver to your mother, and tell her I send my blessing with it, and beg her prayers for me. And if you bring my horse back to me, I will give you ten groats more to carry you on foot to the college; and so God bless you, good Richard.”

Richard brought the bishop's staff back, and again stopped at Salisbury on his return to Oxford, but this was the last time he ever saw his kind friend and helper, for a short time after the news was brought to Oxford that Bishop Jewel was dead. It was a great sorrow to Hooker to lose his good friend, and the sorrow for his loss was added to by the fear that he would no longer be able to stay at the university. This fear, however, was soon set at rest; for Dr. Cole, the head of the college, at once told him to go cheerfully to his studies, and he would take care he wanted for nothing. A few months later the means of providing for his own support at college was offered to him in a way which shows the high esteem in which he was held, both for character and learning. Edwin Sandys, Archbishop of York, had heard of Richard Hooker from Bishop Jewel, and being now about to send his son for the first time to Oxford, he determined to place him under the care of Hooker, though there was not much difference in their ages. 'For," said the Archbishop, "I will have a tutor for my son tha shall teach him learning by instruction and virtue by example, and my greatest care shall be of the last ; and, God willing, this Richard Hooker shall be the man into whose hands I will commit my Edwin." About the same time Hooker was asked to take another pupil, George Cranmer, great-nephew of Archbishop Cranmer. The

young tutor was only eighteen, and his pupils a year or two younger, and there soon grew up a most pleasant friendship between them; "a friendship," says Izaak Walton, "made up of religious principles which increased daily by a similitude of inclinations to the same recreations and studies; a friendship begun in youth, and in a university, free from self-ends. And in this sweet, this blessed, this spiritual amity, they went on for many years; and, as the holy Prophet saith, so 'they took sweet counsel together, and walked to the house of God as friends,' by which means they improved this friendship to such a degree of holy amity as bordered upon heaven; a friendship so sacred, that when it ended in this world it began in the next, where it shall have no end."

As soon as Edwin Sandys and George Cranmer had finished their college course, they left Oxford to travel on the Continent, which was considered necessary for a young gentleman of that time. Meanwhile Hooker continued to study and perfect himself in all kinds of learning, and many other pupils were sent to him. He took his M.A. degree, and was made Fellow of his College; he was also appointed Hebrew lecturer. About the year 1581 he was ordained priest, and soon after was requested to preach at St. Paul's Cross. These public preachings have been described in the account of Latimer; and in Queen Elizabeth's reign any celebrated man was sent for to preach there, the queen herself often going in state to hear the sermons. As the preachers frequently came from a distance, there was a house appointed where they might lodge while in London. It was called the Shunamite's house, from the story of the Shunamite woman who made the little room for Elisha. A good man, who had failed in business, was appointed to live in the house with his wife, and entertain the preachers.

Hooker rode up to London on horseback, in pouring

rain; and being unused to riding, and wet through, he felt so ill when he reached the Shunamite's house that he thought it impossible he should be able to preach on the Sunday. It was Thursday evening when he arrived, and for the next two days Mrs. Churchman, the wife of the man who kept the house, nursed him and doctored him so successfully that on Sunday he was quite well, and preached the sermon at St. Paul's Cross. He was very grateful to good Mrs. Churchman, and ready to listen to any advice she might give him; and seeing how much her care had done for him, he readily believed her when she told him that he ought to have a wife to nurse him and make his life more comfortable. Hooker probably objected, that he did not know any one whom he could ask to be his wife; for when Mrs. Churchman proposed that she should find one for him, he readily agreed to it, and left the matter in her hands.

About a year afterwards, Mrs. Churchman informed him that she had found a wife for him, and he went up to London to be married. The wife proved to be Mrs. Churchman's own daughter Joan; and Hooker, trusting Mrs. Churchman's choice, married her. He wanted a wife to nurse him and make him comfortable; and Mrs. Hooker seems to have been a busy, energetic woman. But he had not, perhaps, considered that times of illness are rare compared with the times of health and ordinary life, and that the bustle and activity of a woman who had no sympathy with his pursuits would be rather disturbing to his calm student life. She was a thoroughly practical woman, and perhaps true to a certain narrow sense of duty; but she had a violent and overbearing temper, and there were no doubt many things which made Hooker's married life a time of daily little trials. But Hooker was not a man to be overcome by these; he saw the hand of God in all the events of life, and he felt, perhaps, that there was a needful discipline in those things which drew him away from his favourite pursuits, and