b'# LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. I \n\n\n\nr \n\n\n\nf UNITED STATES\'OF AMERICA, f \n\n\n\nCHRISTIANITY TESTED BY EMLNENT MEN; \n\n\n\nBtinjj Britf Sfettti&ts of \n\n\n\nCHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\n\n\nBy MERRITT CALDWELL, A.M. \n\n\n\n1^ \\0^.nm. \n\nx:^77;jQ-r-{y;\' \n\n\n\nWITH AN INTnODUCTlON \n\n\n\nBY REV. S. xM. VAIL, A. M. \n\n\n\nN\xc2\xa3iu-|)ork \n\n\n\nPUBLISHED BY LANE & SCOTT, \n\n2 M u 1 b e r r y - s t r e e t . \nJOSEPH L O N G K I N G , P 11 I N T E K . \n\n\n\n^^^\xe2\x96\xa0^^^c^ru^ \'BcU^- ^ \xe2\x96\xa0ex-\' \n\n\n\n.C3 \n\n\n\nEntered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1851, by \n\nLANE & SCOTT, \n\nin the Clerk\'s Office of the District Court of the Southern District \nof New-York. \n\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS, \n\n\n\nCHAPTER I. \n\nIntrodlctory Remarks Page 15 \n\nSir Matthew Hale 18 \n\nDr. John Godman 21 \n\nDr. Judsox 29 \n\nLeonard Euler 32 \n\nProfessor Hubbard 35 \n\nNathan Smith 37 \n\nArjiand du Plests de Richelieu 42 \n\nJulius Mazarin 43 \n\nSir Thomas Smith 43 \n\nHenry Beaufort 44 \n\nCesar Borgia , 45 \n\nThomas Wolsey 45 \n\nDuke of Buckingham 4() \n\nGeorge Cuvier 50 \n\nGeorge Lyttlkton 53 \n\nGilbert West: 50 \n\nRoger Sherman 57 \n\nCHAPTER H. \n\nSigners of the Declaration of iNDErENDExcE : \xe2\x80\x94 \n\nSamuel Ada3is, LL.D (il \n\nRobert Treat Paine, LL.D 62 \n\nMatthew Thornton 02 \n\n\n\n4 CONTENTS. \n\nSigners of the Declaration of Independence : \xe2\x80\x94 \n\nSAMUEji Huntingdon Page 63 \n\nWilliam Williams 64 \n\nPhilip Livingston 64 \n\nEichard Stockton 65 \n\nJohn Witherspoon, D.D., LL.D 65 \n\nJohn Hart.. 66 \n\nBenja^iin Rush, M.D., LL.D 66 \n\nJohn Morton 67 \n\nJames Smith 67 \n\nSamuel Chase 68 \n\nThomas Stone 68 \n\nFrancis Lightfoot Lee 68 \n\nBenjamin Franklin 69 \n\nHumphrey Davy 73 \n\nWilliam Jones 75 \n\nJohn Selden 78 \n\nJames Gardiner 79 \n\nGeorge Washington 82 \n\nliEVOLUTIONARY OFFICERS : \n\nColonel Timothy Pickering 90 \n\nColonel Isaac Shelby 90 \n\nM ajor-General Benjamin Lincoln 91 \n\nMajor-General John Brooks 91 \n\nBrigadier-General Eliezer Brooks 92 \n\nGeneral Matthew Clarkson 92 \n\nCHAPTER III. \n\nIsaac Newton 93 \n\nDavid Rittenhouse 96 \n\nJames Crichton , 101 \n\nJohn Philip Baratier 102 \n\nBlaise Pascal 104 \n\nHugo Grotius 108 \n\nJeremiah Horrox 110 \n\nPeter Gassendi \xe2\x80\xa2 113 \n\n\n\nCONTENTS. 5 \n\nJohn Janeway Page 115 \n\nJames Brainerd Taylor 119 \n\nCHAPTER IV. \n\nGovernors of Plymouth Colony: \xe2\x80\x94 \n\nJohn Carver 123 \n\nWilliam Bradford 124 \n\nEdward Winslow 124 \n\nGovernors of Massachusetts Colony : \xe2\x80\x94 \n\nJohn Winthrop 12o \n\nJohn Endicott 125 \n\nJonathan Belcher 126 \n\nGovernors of Massachusetts : \xe2\x80\x94 \n\nJames Bowdoin 128 \n\nSamuel Adams 130 \n\nJohn Brooks 130 \n\nLieutenant-Governors of Massachusetts: \xe2\x80\x94 \n\nSamuel Phillips, LL,D 131 \n\nWilliam Phillips 133 \n\nChief Justices op Massachusetts : \xe2\x80\x94 \n\nIsaac Parker, LL.D 134 \n\nTheophilus Parsons, LL.D 135 \n\nCHAPTER V. \n\nJohn Winthrop 137 \n\nFrancis Bacon 140 \n\nRobert Boyle 147 \n\nJohn Locke 151 \n\nJoseph Addison,,. ,, 155 \n\nGeneral Remarks 158 \n\nMetaphysicians : \xe2\x80\x94 \n\nDescartes 163 \n\nThomas Reid, D.D., F.R.S .\' 163 \n\nDuGALD Stewart 164 \n\nThomas Brown, M.D 166 \n\nSamuel Taylor Coleridge 167 \n\n\n\n6 CONTENTS. \n\nJoshua Reynolds Page 168 \n\nSamuel Johnson 170 \n\nEdmund Burke 175 \n\nJames Necker 178 \n\nCHAPTER VI. \nPoets : \xe2\x80\x94 \n\nPercy Bys she Shelley 181 \n\nEdmund Spenser 186 \n\nSir Philip Sidney 187 \n\nJohn Milton 188 \n\nSir John Denham 191 \n\nWentworth Dillon 191 \n\nJohn, Earl of Rochester 193 \n\nAbraham Cowley 198 \n\nEdmund Waller 201 \n\nJohn Phillips 203 \n\nMatthew Prior 203 \n\nNicholas Rowe 204 \n\nAlexander Pope 204 \n\nJames Thomson 206 \n\nWilliam Collins 207 \n\nWilliam Cowper 208 \n\nJames Beattie 209 \n\nWilliam Wordsworth 211 \n\nWalter Scott 211 \n\nEdmund Smith 214 \n\nWilliam King 215 \n\nCharles Montague, Earl of Halifax 215 \n\nJohn Hughes 215 \n\nSir Richard Blackmore 216 \n\nElijah Fenton 216 \n\nNicholas Boileau...... 217 \n\nFenelon 218 \n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION. \n\n\n\nThe lamented author of these sketches had \na yearning love for the welfare of the young. \nAt an early period of his life he became a \nteacher. For twenty years he continued in \nthis honourable and useful vocation. His time, \nhis talents and his attainments, and, finally, \nhis health and life, were laid down, a willing \nsacrifice for the glory of God and the good of \nthe young. \n\nThe present volume is one of the evidences \nof his solicitude for this class of persons, and \nespecially for their spiritual welfare. Whether \nas principal of the Maine Wesleyan Seminary, \nor as professor in Dickinson College, Professor \nCaldwell was ever active in leading young \nmen to the foot of the cross. He felt the \nneed of something like the present volume, \n\n\n\n8 INTRODUCTION. \n\nAvhich might be put into the hands of young \nmen, especially of such as are sceptically \ninclined. The human mind, by nature, is \naverse to God, and will not receive the way \nof salvation by the cross. \n\nHow many young men in our schools and \ncolleges, of considerable talents and reading, \nare not only at heart unbelievers, but some- \ntimes professedly so ! They have never ex- \namined the evidences of Christianity, but \nbrace and fortify themselves with great \nnames. They say, Jefferson, and Gibbon, \nand Hume, were at least doubters, if not \npositive disbelievers in the whole system of \nthe Christian religion. It cannot be dishon- \nourable, it may not be contrary to truth, to \nfollow in the steps of such men. And thus a \nhardy bravado takes possession of the young \nmind, and there begins to be a fearful trifling \nwith spiritual and eternal interests. In this \nlittle book the authority of great names, in \nevery department of learning and honour, is \nmade to subserve a better purpose. The \nauthor has looked over the ranks of the laity, \nin our OAvn and other countries. He has \n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION. 79 \n\ninterrogated the greatest philosophers, states- \nmen, jurists, poets and artists, of modern \ntimes, as to their opinions on the Christian \nreligion. And all brought together consti- \ntutes a body of evidence for Christianity, \nenough to neutralize, a hundred times, the \nmere opinions of such men as Lord Boling- \nbroke. Gibbon and Hume. \n\nIt is not only a body of evidence for Chris- \ntianity, but for its experimental character, \xe2\x80\x94 \naffording a delightful view of its practical \ninfluence on great minds. Washington and \nNewton, Bacon and Pascal, are seen to have \nbeen experimental Christians, \xe2\x80\x94 men of prayer \n\xe2\x80\x94 often retiring to hold communion with God \nthe Father of spirits. The celebrated Boyle, \nspeaking of this last-named distinguished \nman, says : *^ A hundred volumes of religious \ndiscourses are not of so much avail to confound \nthe impious as a simple account of the life of \nPascal. His humility and his devotion mor- \ntify the libertines more than if they were \nattacked by a dozen missionaries. They can \nno longer assert that piety is confined to little \nminds, when they behold the highest degree \n\n\n\n10 INTRODUCTION. \n\nof it in a geometrician of the first rank, the \nmost acute metaphysician, and one of the \nmost penetrating mincls that ever existed.\'^ \n\nOne such testimony of a candid and dis- \ncriminating mind, such as PascaFs, is worth \nmore for sustaining the reality of experimental \nreligion, than all the reasonings of infidelity \nand formalism. He testifies of a land that \nhe has seen, and infidelity of one it has not \nseen. He speaks from his own consciousness, \nthe most certain ground of belief ; while infi- \ndelity at best can only argue from remote \nanalogies, the most uncertain of all evidence. \nA triumphant argument, we hold, therefore, \nis brought out in these sketches, for the reality \nof experimental religion \xe2\x80\x94 an argument which, \nit is almost needless to say, is confirmed by \nthe experience of all truly converted men, by \nthe word of Grod, and the fitness of things. A \nreligion that does not affect the heart as well \nas the intellect, that does not soothe the sor- \nrows of man, and bring peace and quietness to \nhis troubled spirit, is after all worth but little. \nFor what signify outward comforts, and even \nsplendours, if the soul is under the bondage of \n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION. ll \n\nfear, and without the inward life of the Divine \nSpirit? \n\nIt has already been hinted that these \nsketches are confined to eminent Christian \nlaymen. The author himself was a layman, \nand thus continued during life, though fre- \nquently importuned to enter the ministry. It \nshould also be said that they were originally \npublished in the Maine Wesleyan Journal. \nThey were commenced in January, 1839, and \ncontinued from time to time for something \nmore than two years, with the original inten- \ntion of carrying them on much further. In- \ndeed, materials were collected for this purpose. \nBut in the spring of 1841 they were interrupted \nby the ill health of the author ; and after his \nrecovery, his mind was so far diverted to other \nobjects, that he was led to a\'bandon this, at \nleast for the time being. \n\nHis own views and feelings, in entering \nupon and prosecuting this work, will appear \nfrom his own introductory remarks, and from \na subsequent letter, a few extracts from which \nwe will here present the reader. \n\nHe remarks : ** These sketches were first \n\n\n\n12 INTRODUCTION \n\nintended mainly for the young, who, whatever \nelse they may have learned, may not have \nlearned that the most eminent men of modern \ntimes have been the devoted advocates of \nChristianity. This, the writer of these sketches \ndid not early perceive \xe2\x80\x94 his attention was not \nearly directed to this subject. But here \nanother direction is given to this subject. \nWe are told that Christian biography may \nserve as a confirmation of the faith even of \nthe sincere and humble Christian. To thou- \nsands who are destined, in the order of Provi- \ndence, to move in the lower walks of life, and, \nperhaps, to see pride and vice triumphant, \nwhile virtue and unassuming worth pine in \nlonely, and perhaps starving, solitude \xe2\x80\x94 to \nthousands such, I say, the question must have \npresented itself : \' If Christianity is true, why \nare not those who take the lead in society \nits advocates T To such as propose this ques- \ntion, these sketches say : Those who take \nthe lead in most of the lower circles of so- \nciety, are either those whom the world loves \nmore because the world loves its oivn, and not \nbecause of the possession of any learning. \n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION. 13 \n\ntalent, or real wortli ; or who liave devoted \ntheir conscience upon the altar of their ambi- \ntion, and having intellect enough to learn the \ntruth, still love darkness rather than light, \nbecause their deeds are evil. And these sketches \nfurther say to such inquirers : \' Look beyond \nthe narrow circle of your own neighbourhood \nor town \xe2\x80\x94 look out upon those who have taken \nthe lead in carrying on all the most important \nenterprises of the world, and whose names \nstand as beacon-lights along the paths of \nscience, shining brighter and brighter with \nthe lapse of years, and when you contemplate \nsuch a one, then will you find a Christian,^\'\' \n\nLet the young man, or even the old man, \nAvho has not had the means of pushing his \ninquiries among the speculative objections to \nChristianity, or among the speculative evi- \ndences by which it is supp(Ti:*ted, remember \nthis, that no objection has ever been urged \nwhich has not been reviewed, and fully con- \nfuted, by the researches of the wonderful men \nwhose names are presented in these sketches. \n\nWe would close our introductory remarks \nby commending this little volume, containing \n\n\n\n14 INTRODUCTION. \n\nSO bright a galaxy of the stars of our common \nChristianity, to the blessing of God. May \nthe design of its lamented and pious author \nbe fulfilled, who desired, first of all, in this \nand in everything else, to be useful in bring- \ning souls to Christ, and in promoting the \nglory of our common Lord. \n\nStephen M. Vail. \nConcord, N. H., May 8, 1851. \n\n\n\nSKETCHES \n\n\n\nEMINENT CHRISTIAN MEN \n\n\n\nCHAPTER I. \n\nINTRODUCTORY REMARKS \xe2\x80\x94 SIR MATTHEW HALE \xe2\x80\x94 DR. JOHN \n\nG0D3IAN DR. JUDSON ^LEONARD EULER ^PROFESSOR JOHN \n\nHUBBARD \xe2\x80\x94 DR. NATHAN SMITH RICHELIEU, MAZARIN, AND \n\nSIR THOMAS SMITH ^BEAUFORT, BORGIA, AND CARDINAL \n\nWOLSEY DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM \xe2\x80\x94 BARON (GEORGe) GUVIER \n\n\xe2\x80\x94 LORD LITTLETON DR. GILBERT WEST ROGER SHER- \nMAN. \n\nmTRODUCTORY REMARKS. \n\nThe great truths of Christianity rest not on \nthe opinions of men, nor on the character of \nthose who embrace them ; yet our Saviour \nhimself has said, " Ye are the light of the \nworld." Christians then are the representa- \ntives of Christianity. From this responsi- \nbility we cannot free ourselves, nor would we \nif we could. It would but take from us one \nof our highest motives to represent its princi- \nples faithfully. \n\n\n\n16 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nIt is ill vain, that we point one of the ordin- \nary cla^s of sceptics, or men of the world, to \nthe Bible to learn what Christianity is. He \nat once refers you to those who professedly \nadopt its principles as the guide of their lives, \nand thus brings Christianity to the test, not \nof the purity of the Gospel precepts, but to \nthe imperfect standard of practical morality \namong professed Christians. So it is, so it \nalways has been, so we presume it always will \nbe, while the human heart retains its natural \nperverseness. \n\nBut this is not all. In such reference, the \nsceptic is always sure to direct the attention \nto the more unworthy of those who bear the \nChristian name, and even goes so far as to as- \nsert, that none but weak minds have ever been \nentangled in its sophistries, or yielded an as- \nsent to its absurdities. If Ave point him to \nthe distinguished advocates of the Gospel sys- \ntem, who have enlightened the world by their \nscience and by their mental power, we are \nonly told of priestcraft^ and reminded that \nthese men have all had their worldly interests \ncombined with their apparent zeal in the cause \nof God. \n\nSuch a course ought to have no influence, \nexcept upon the minds of the young and the \nunthinking. For, in the first place, the as- \n\n\n\nINTRODUCTORY REMARKS. 17 \n\nsumption is not a true one, and, in the second \nplace, even if it were, the inference attempted \nto be drawn is not legitimate. The assump- \ntion is not correct, inasmuch as many of the \nmost gifted intellects, and of the most richly \nendowed minds with which the world has ever \nbeen favoured, have yielded their assent to \nthe truths of the Gospel. And the inference \nof the unbeliever is not legitimate, inasmuch \nas the principles of Christianity are eternally \nexcellent: not less so, in the most corrupt \nages of the Church, than when they liave \nbeen exemplified in all their native and essen- \ntial purity ; not less so, when those w^ho have \ntaken on themselves the vows of religion prove \nrecreant to their obligations, than when they \nadorn their professions by a godly w^alk and \nconversation. \n\nStill, so it is ; inferences are drawn from \nthe character of those who profess the religion \nof Christ, as to the character of that religion \nitself. And so let it be ; but let not the \ncharacter of those who assume the Christian \nname be mis-stated. \n\nIn the following sketches professed clergy- \nmen will be passed by on the ground, mainly, \nthat their religious character is well known ; \nbut other Christians, distinguished for great \nmental power, for great learning, or extraordi- \n\n\n\n18 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nnary piety, will be briefly noticed. We ask \nattention first to Sir Matthew Hale, one of \nEngland^s greatest statesmen and writers. \n\n\n\nSIR MATTHEW HALE. \n\nSir Matthew Hale was born at Alderley, \nGloucestershire, England, November 1, 1609. \nBefore he had attained his fifth year, both his \nparents were removed by death. In early life \nhe had the reputation of being an extraordi- \nnary proficient in learning, and before he was \nseventeen, was a member of Oxford College. \nIn 1629, Mr. Hale was admitted a student at \nlaw in Lincoln\'s Inn. " Here,\'\' says his bio- \ngrapher, " he brought to bear on his books the \nwhole energy of his powerful mind. So in- \ntense was his ardour, that difficulties only \nstimulated him to exertion ; and for a while, \nhe studied at the rate of sixteen hours a day." \nHe soon attracted the notice of some of the \nmost distinguished men of England, among \nwhom was the illustrious Selden, whose friend- \nship he shared during his life. Under the \npatronage, and sustained by the friendship of \nthese renowned men, he prosecuted his studies \nwith the greatest enthusiasm and diligence. \n*\' So great was his mental vigour," we are \ntold, *\' that he regarded philosophical and \n\n\n\nSIR MATTHEAV HALE. 19 \n\nmathematical pursuits as diversions, in which, \nwhen weary with studying law or theology, he \nfound recreation.\'\' \n\nIn 1653, Mr. Hale was created a sergeant \nat law; in 1654, was chosen a member of \nParliament ; in 1660, received the commission \nof Lord Chief Baron of England ; and in 1671, \nsucceeded Sir John Keyling, as Lord Chief \nJustice of the King\'s bench. Thus, as Sir \nMatthew Hale, Ave see him holding the very \nhighest judicial trusts of England, the latter \nof which he retained, till, in person, he sur- \nrendered it to the king, and retired to the \nplace of his birth, to pass in quiet the re- \nmainder of his days. \n\nYet Sir Matthew Hale was a uniform, con- \nsistent, and devoted Christian. The integrity \nwith which he discharged his public duties, is \neverywhere proverbial. His temperance was so \nstrongly marked, that from about the time he \nentered on the study of the law, he even re- \nfused to drink the king\'s health, though that \nwas deemed a distinguishing mark of loyalty, \nand the refusal often subjected him to uncivil \ntreatment. He made no use even of wine. \nHis observance of the Lord^s day was so strict, \nthat his example is often quoted even to the \npresent time. So uniform was he in this, that \nfor thirty-six years he is said never to have \n\n\n\n20 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nfailed once in going to church on the Sabhath. \nHis reverence for the Bihle^ as the word of \nGod, was most profound. " There is no book \nlike the Bible/\' said he, " for excellent learn- \ning, wisdom, and use.\'\' \n\nBut the piety of Sir M. Hale is not left to \ninference. Hear the testimony of the pious \nand excellent Baxter, when speaking of Sir \nMatthcAv as he drew near to the close of his \nlife : \xe2\x80\x94 " It is not the least of my pleasures," \nsays he, " that I have lived some years in his \nmore than ordinary love and friendship, and \nthat we are now waiting which shall be first \nin heaven, whither, he saith, he is going with \nfull content and acquiescence in the will of a \ngracious God,, and doubts not but we shall \nshortly live together. O what a blessed world \nwould this be, were but the generality of \nmagistrates such as he !" \n\nAnother illustration of the piety of Sir M. \nHale, from his own pen, is not less interesting : \n\'\' My intensest love to God," said he, " is my \nduty ; I cannot exceed my proportion. It is \nmy wisdom, for I fix my heart upon that which \nis more than worthy of my love. It is my \nhappiness, for I am joined to that which is my \nchiefest good. The best of creatures is too \nnarroAv for the compass of my love. There is \nnot fulness enough in it to answer my desire \xe2\x80\x94 \n\n\n\nDR. JOHN GODMAN. 21 \n\nit is too short and temporary. It will die, \nwhen my soul, and the motions of it, will live, \nand so again want that on which to fix. But \nin my love to God, I shall find an overflowing \nfulness, that will fill up the most capacious \nand intense st gaspings and outgoings of my \nlove \xe2\x80\x94 a fulne^ that will continue to all eter- \nnity \xe2\x80\x94 a fulness that will satisfy my soul, and \nyet increase my love. New and higher dis- \ncoveries will eternally be let in unto me, which \nmy soul shall everlastingly pursue, and in \npursuing, enjoy with delight and blessed- \nness.\'^ \n\nSuch a man and such a Christian was Sir \nMatthew Hale. He died Dec. 25, 1676. \n\n\n\nDR. JOHN GODMAK \n\nJohn Godman was born in Annapolis, in the \nState of Maryland. Before he Avas two years \nof age, he lost his mother ; and before he was \nfive, he was, as he once said, \'\' fatherless and \nfriendless.\'^ The little property that was left \nliim he never received, and thus he was thrown \nout upon the world to find his way through it. \nIn early life, he was indented an apprentice \nto a printer in Baltimore. In 1813 he left \nthis business, and entered as a sailor on board \nthe Flotilla, which was then stationed in tlie \n\n\n\n22 CHRISTIAN BIOr:^RAPHY. \n\nChesapeake Bay. At the close of the war^ \nbeing then fifteen years of age, and at liberty \nto pursue the natural bent of his own mind, he \ncommenced the study of medicine. In the \nprosecution of the science of anatomy, he sur- \npassed all his fellows, and sometime before he \nwas graduated, was called to the chair of \nanatomy in the University of Maryland, where \nhe was then a student, to supply the place of \nhis preceptor, who was taken from his lectures \nin consequence of a fractured extremity. He \nwas specially marked by his teachers for the \nextent and accuracy of his knowledge. \n\nAfter he was graduated, he continued to \nprosecute his studies with the same zeal which \nhad hitherto characterized him. Natural \nhistory and the languages came in for a share \nof his attention. In a few years he was called \nto the Professorship of Anatomy in the Medi- \ncal College of Ohio, where he remained one \nyear ; and in 1826, was called to fill the same \nchair in Eutgers Medical College, in the city \nof New- York. Here he had not completed his \nsecond course of lectures, when declining \nhealth compelled him to leave New- York, and \nto seek a more genial climate in one of the \nWest India Islands. \n\nFrom this disease Dr. Godman never re- \ncovered, but continued to devote his every \n\n\n\nDR. JOHN GODMAN. 2$ \n\nhour to the cause of letters, with an enthusi- \nasm rarely if ever equalled, till he terminated \nhis life at the age of thirty-two. Though \nthus early called from the pursuits of science, \nhe made larger acquisitions than most minds \nare capable of in a long life. His success, as \na lecturer on anatomy, has never been \nequalled in this country ; his ^\' Natural His- \ntory of American Quadrupeds \'^ is the most \nample and elaborate which has ever been pub- \nlished ; and he had acquired such a knowledge \nof the Latin, Greek, French, German, Danish, \nSpanish, and Italian languages, as to read and \ntranslate them with fluency, and to write seve- \nral of them with elegance. \n\nSuch was Dr. Godman, as a scholar and as \na man of science. Let us turn to his Christian \ncharacter. \n\nTill the winter of 1827, Dr. G. was scepti- \ncal ; and, to use his own language, had be- \ncome an infidel, rejecting revelation, and cast- \ning all the evidences of an existing God be- \nneath his feet. A visit to the death-bed of a \nChristian student, turned his attention to the \nBible, which is the source of all light He im- \nmediately gave up the deductions of his per- \nverted reason, and, in the spirit of true philo- \nsophy, resorted to the instructions of Him who \ntaught as never man taught. \n\n\n\n24 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nThe success of liis application to this source \nof light and truth, appears in a letter which \nhe addressed to a medical friend, Dr. Judson, \nthen surgeon in the navy of the United States, \nand in the last stages of consumption : \xe2\x80\x94 \n\n\'* Germantown, Dec. 25, 1828. \n\n" In relation to dying, my dear friend, you \ntalk like a sick man and just as I used to do \nwhen very despondent. Death is a debt we \nall owe to nature, and must eventually ensue \nfrom a mere wearing out of the machine, if not \nfrom disease. The time when, makes no dif- \nference in the act of dying to the individual ; \nfor, after all, it terminates in corporeal insen- \nsibility, let the preceding anguish be never so \nsevere. Nature certainly has a strong abhor- \nrence to this cessation of corporeal action, and \nall animals have a dread of death who are con- \nscious of its approach. A part of our dread of \ndeath is purely physical, and is avoidable only \nby a philosophical conviction of its necessity ; \nbut the greater part of our dread, and the ter- \nrors with which the avenues to the grave are \nsurrounded, are from another, and a more po- \ntent source. \' \'Tis conscience that makes \ncowards of us all,\' and forces us by our ter- \nrors to confess that we dread something be- \nyond physical dissolution, and that we are ter- \n\n\n\nDR. JOHN GODMAN. 25 \n\nrifled, not at merely ceasing to breathe, but \nthat we have not lived as we ought to have \ndone, have not effected the good that was \nwithin the compass of our abilities, and neg- \nlected to exercise the talents we possessed to \nthe greatest advantage. The only remedy for \nthis fear of death is to be sought by approach- \ning the Author of all things in the way pre- \nscribed by himself, and not according to our \nown foolish imaginations. Humiliation of \npride, denial of self, subjection of evil tem- \npers and dispositions, and an entire submis- \nsion to his will for support and direction, are \nthe best preparatives for such an approach. \nA perusal of the Gospels, in a spirit of real in- \nquiry, after a direction how to act, will cer- \ntainly teach the way. In these Gospels the \nSaviour himself has preached his own doc- \ntrines, and he who runs may read. He has \nprescribed the course \xe2\x80\x94 he shows how the ap- \nproval and mercy of God may be won; he \nshows how awfully corrupt is man^s nature, \nand how deadly his pride and stubbornness \nof heart, which cause him to try every subter- \nfuge to avoid the humiliating confession of \nhis own weakness, ignorance, and folly. But \nthe same blessed hand has stripped death of \nall the terrors which brooded around the \ngrave, and converted the gloomy receptacle \n\n\n\n26 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nof our mortal remains into tlie portal of life \nand light. O let me die the death of the \nrighteous; let my last end and future state \nbe like his! \n\n\'\' This is all I know on the subject. I am \nno theologian, and have as great an aversion \nto priestcraft as one can entertain. I was \nonce an infidel, as I told you in the West In- \ndies. I became a Christian from conviction, \nproduced by the candid inquiry recommended \nto you. I know of no other way in which \ndeath can be stripped of its terrors ; certainly \nnone better can be wished. Philosophy is a \nfool, and pride a madman. Many persons die \nwith what is called manly firmness ; that is, \nhaving acted a part all their lives according \nto their prideful creed, they must die game. \nThey put on as smooth a face as they can, to \nimpose on the spectators, and die firmly. But \nthis is all deception; the true state of their \nminds at the very time, nine times out of ten, \nis worse than the most horrible imaginings \neven of hell itself. Some who have led lives \nadapted to sear their conscience, and petrify \nall the moral sensibilities, die with a kind of \nindifference similar to that with which a hard- \nened convict submits to a new infliction of dis- \ngraceful punishment. But the man who dies \nas a man ought to die, is the humble-minded, \n\n\n\nDR. JOHN GODMAN. 27 \n\nbelieving Christian \xe2\x80\x94 one who has tasted and \nenjoyed all the blessings of creation; who has \nhad an enlightened view of the wisdom and \nglory of his Creator; who has felt the vanity \nof merely worldly pursuits and motives, and \nbeen permitted to know the mercies of a \nblessed Kedeemer as he approaches the narrow \nhouse appointed for all the living. \n\n" Physical death may cause his senses to \nshrink and fail at the trial; but his mind, \nsustained by the Eock of Ages, is serene and \nunwavering. He relies not on his own righte- \nousness, for that would be vain ; but the arms \nof mercy are beneath him \xe2\x80\x94 the ministering \nspirits of the Omnipotent are around him. \nHe does not die manfully, but he rests in \nJesus; he blesses his friends, he casts his hope \non One all powerful to sustain, and mighty to \nsave; then sleeps in peace. He is dead \xe2\x80\x94 but \nliveth ; for He who is the resurrection and the \nlife has declared, \' Whoso believeth in me, \nthough he were dead, yet shall he live. And \nwhosoever liveth, and believeth in me, shall \nnever die.^ \'^ \n\nThis letter is sufficient to establish the piety \nof Dr. Godman. His pious trust in God sus- \ntained him during a protracted illness, and \nwas his solace in death. A friend who was \nhis constant companion during his sickness, \n\n\n\n28 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nand witnessed his last moments, writes thus : \n\xe2\x80\x94 " You ask me to give you an account of his \nlast moments; they were such as have robbed \nme of all terror of death, and will afford me \nlasting comfort through life. The same self- \ncomposure and entire resignation which were \nso remarkable through his whole sickness, \nsupported him to the end. O, it was not death \n\xe2\x80\x94 it was a release from mortal misery to ever- \nlasting happiness! Such calmness when he \nprayed for us all, \xe2\x80\x94 such a heavenly compo- \nsure, even till the breath left him, you would \nhave thought he was going only a short jour- \nney. During the day his sufferings had been \nalmost beyond enduring. Frequently did he \npray that the Lord would give him patience \nto endure all till the end, knowing that it \ncould not be many hours; and truly his \nprayers were heard. * Lord Jesus, receive my \nsoul,\' were the last words he uttered ; and his \ncountenance appeared as if he had a foretaste \nof heaven even before his spirit left this \nworld.\'\' \n\n\n\nDR. JUDBON. 29 \n\n\n\nDR. JIJDSOK \n\nRather as an appendix to the biographical \nsbetch of Dr. Grodman, I here present an ac- \ncount of the conversion and death of Dr. Jud- \nson, to whom, when in the last stage of con- \nsumption, the letter of Dr. Godman, as given \nbefore, was addressed. \n\nThe eulogist of Dr. Godman says, in regard \nto the letter thus addressed to Dr. Judson: \xe2\x80\x94 \n\n" This letter, which so truly contrasts the \ndeath-bed scene of the infidel with that of the \nChristian, so beautifully portrays the history \nof the change which had been effected in Dr. \nGodman\'s own sentiments and affections, and \nso clearly points the benighted wanderer to the \ntrue source of life and light, was not lost upon \nhis friend to whom it was addressed. It de- \nscribed his condition, and it reached his heart. \n\n\'\' Dr. Judson, though religiously instructed \nwhen young, having a pious clergyman for his \nfather, and another for his elder brother, (Dr. \nJudson, the late distinguished missionary in \nIndia,) yet had long since freed himself \nfrom what he called the prejudices of educa- \ntion, the shackles of priestcraft, and was rang- \ning tlie fields of infidelity. He had acquired \nwealth and reputation ; was an estimable man \n\n\n\n30 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nin all the domestic relations of life, and a \nhighly respected member of our profession; \nbut the self-denying doctrines of the Saviour \nwere too humbling to his proud spirit, and he \ncould not submit to their influence. At the \ntime he received Dr. Godman^s letter, how- \never, he was gloomy and despondent; looking \nforward with fearful forebodings to the period \nof his dissolution, which seemed not far dis- \ntant. He had no confidence but that of the \nsceptic, \xe2\x80\x94 no hope but that of ceasing to be. \nAware of the fatal nature of the disease under \nwhich he had lingered for years, he had long \nbeen arming himself to meet the king of ter- \nrors with composure, that he might die like a \nphilosopher \xe2\x80\x94 \' ivith manly firmness;^ but, as \nhe drew nearer to the grave, the clouds and \ndarkness thickened around him, and he began \nto fear that there might be something beyond \nthis narrow prison. He had hitherto refused \nall religious intercourse, but now his infidelity \nbegan to give way, and he inquired with soli- \ncitude, \' Is there such a thing as the new birth ? \nand if so, in what does it consist?^ He was \ndirected to the Gospels for the answer. He \nat length consented to make the investigation \nrecommended by Dr. Godman. He took up \nthe New Testament, and read it in the spirit \nof candid inquiry. A conviction of the truth \n\n\n\nDR. JUDSON. 31 \n\nof its doctrines fastened upon him. He now \nsolicited the advice and prayers of a pious \nclergyman. Yet he could not consent to re- \nlinquish the sentiments which he had so long- \ncherished without the clearest proof ; and he \ndisputed every inch of ground with great acute- \nness and ability ; but the truth Avas exhibited \nby this venerable divine (the Rev. William \nEyland) with such force and simplicity, that \nit overcame every argument he could produce, \nand he saw clearly the folly of his sceptical \nopinions. The clouds were dissij)ated, light \nbroke in uj)on his mind, and he was enabled \nto take hold of tlie promises. The remaining \ndays of his life were devoted to fervent prayer, \nand the constant study of the Scriptures, which \nfilled his soul with divine composure, and en- \nabled him to rely with undoubting confidence \non the infinite merits of his Redeemer, and \nwith his last breath to cry, * Peace, peace. ^ If \nhe did not die with \' manly firmness,^ he * 7\'e8t\' \ned 171 Jesus. ^ ^^ \n\nIt is worthy of remark by the young, that \nwe here have the names of Godman and Jud- \nson, of Sewall and Ryland, honourably asso- \nciated with Christianity. They were each and \nall most noble men, and each has entered into \nhis rest above, liaving proved the power of the \nreligion of Christ both in life and in death. \n\n\n\n32 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\n\n\nLEONARD EULER. \n\nLeonard Euler was born at Basil, in 1707, \nAvhere he was educated. His early academical \ntasks were performed with wonderful ease, in- \nsomuch that a large portion of his time was \nleft for the pursuit of mathematics and philo- \nsophy ; and his success in these branches soon \nobtained for him the distinguished attention \nand esteem of John Bernouilli, one of the \nchief mathematicians of Europe. At the age \nof sixteen years, he was admitted to the de- \ngree of M. A., on which occasion he obtained \ngreat applause by delivering a Latin discourse, \nwherein he drew a comparison between the \nphilosophy of Newton and the Cartesian sys- \ntem. Li 1727, at the age of twenty, he was \nappointed over the mathematical class, in the \nAcademy of Science at Petersburg. His dif- \nferent publications on the nature and propa- \ngation of sound, on curves, on the calculus in- \ntegrals, the movement of the celestial bodies, \nand other useful subjects, had already raised \nhis reputation, and ranked him among the \ngreatest of philosophers. The integral calcu- \nlus he carried to new degrees of perfection ; \nand by the astonishing powers of his mind, \n\n\n\nLEONARD EULEK. 33 \n\nnew light was thrown on all the branches of \nmathematical science. \n\nIn 1730, Euler Avas appointed Professor of \nNatural Philosophy in the University of Pe- \ntersburg ; anci in 1733, was called to the chair \nof mathematics. In 1735, he finished the so- \nlution of an important problem, in three days, \nwhich his fellow-academicians asked four \nmonths to complete. Thus he continued to \nprosecute the sciences with indefatigable zeal, \nat Petersburg, and, by express invitation of \nthe king of Prussia, at Berlin, successively re- \nceiving large rewards for his scientific disco- \nveries, from the British parliament, and from \nthe French king, till he terminated his life at \nthe age of 76, in 1783. \n\nAt the period of his death, Euler was a for- \neign member of the Eoyal Academy of Sci- \nences at Paris, member of the Imperial Aca- \ndemy of Petersburg, ancient director of the \nKoyal Academy at Berlin, and fellow of the \nRoyal Society of London. \n\nFew men of letters ever wrote so much as \nEuler. His printed works amount to thirty- \neight volumes ; and the bare list of his Avorks \n(including his manuscripts) makes fourteen \npages. \n\n" His memory shall endure," says one of \nhis biographers, \'\' till science herself is no \n\n\n\n34 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nmore.\'\' No generation lias ever embraced so \nmany objects at one time, or lias equalled \nliim, either in the variety or the magnitude \nof his discoveries. He had read all the Latin \nclassics, could repeat the whole iEneid of Vir- \ngil by heart ; was perfect master of ancient \nmathematical literature ; had the history of \nall ages and nations, even to the minutest \nfacts, ever present to his mind ; was acquaint- \ned with physic, botany, and chemistry ; and \nAvas possessed of every qualification that could \nrender a man estimable. \n\n" Yet this man, accomplished as he was, was \nfilled with respect for religion. His piety was \nsincere, and his devotion full of fervour. He \nwent through all his Christian duties with the \ngreatest attention. He loved all mankind ; \nand, if ever he felt a motion of indignation, it \nwas against the enemies of religion \xe2\x80\x94 particu- \nlarly against the declared apostles of infidel- \nity. Against the objections of these, he de- \nfended revelation in a work published at \nBerlin, in 1747.\'\' \n\nAs will be inferred from the foregoing quo- \ntation, this great philosopher was not merely \na believer, but a devout Christian. Says an- \nother biographer : " His piety was ardent, but \nsincere ; he loved mankind, and defended the \ngreat truths of religion with earnestness and \n\n\n\nPROFESSOR HUBBARD. 35 \n\nfidelity/\' Where such minds have yielded \nassent, men of ordinary intellects should doubt \nwith caution. \n\nThis great Christian philosopher died of a \nfit of apoplexy. The stroke was sudden, and \nimmediately fatal. \n\n\n\nPROFESSOR HUBBARD. \n\nIt is believed that the following extract from \nthe address of President Allen, occasioned by \nthe death of Dr. Nathan Smith, will not be \ndeemed inappropriate to the general object of \nthese sketches. It describes the death-bed \nscene of Professor Hubbard, of Dartmouth \nCollege. Professor H. is represented as \'^ a \ngentleman of science, \xe2\x80\x94 a gentleman also of \nfeeling, of taste, and various accomplishments, \n\xe2\x80\x94 universally respected and greatly beloved ;" \nand is supposed to be John Hubbard, who was \ngraduated at Dartmouth, in 1785. He died \nin 1810. \n\n** On the approach of death," says Dr. Allen, \n" his triumph was almost unequalled. The \nking of terrors was completely baffled and \nconquered. The dying disciple of the Re- \ndeemer descanted most freely and copiously, \nand with a kind of celestial and transporting \neloquence, on the grace and mercy of the Sa- \n\n\n\n36 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nvioiir, and on the scenes of the future and \neternal state, \xe2\x80\x94 -on the visions of that upper \nworld, which he was about to enter ; and so \ncommingled with the expression of his well \nanchored hopes and lofty anticipations the ex- \npression of his tender regard for those who \nstood around his bed, and animating exhorta- \ntions to the practice of holiness and the ser- \nvice of Christ, \xe2\x80\x94 closing, as he was skilled in \nall music, Avith such rapt hymnings to the \npraise of redeeming love \xe2\x80\x94 that every beholder \nwas constrained to say, Surely the gospel is \ntrue, and there is power in religion ! I have \noften heard this scene mentioned by Chris- \ntians as the most wonderful scene they ever \nwitnessed. \n\n" Of this scene Dr. Smith was a witness, \nfor the dying man was his patient, as well \nas his companion and friend ; and it struck \nhim with astonishment. He did not ascribe \nit to nervous influence, to an inflamed fancy, \nto wild delusion ; for the sufferer, or rather \nthe beatified mortal, was a man of reason \nand argument, as well as of feeling. His \nwords carried conviction to the mind as well \nas emotion to the heart. From this dark \ncloud of death the heat-lightning burst forth \nwith a splendour which for the moment left \nno trace of the darkness; and the voice of \n\n\n\nNATHAN SMITH. 8f \n\nGod was a voice of power, before which CA^ery \nsoul bowed in reverence and awe.\'\' \n\nWho would not say, after all the vaunting \nof infidelity, " Let me live the life of the righte- \nous, and let my last end be like his ?\'\' \n\n\n\nNATHAN SMITH. \n\nNathan Smith was born in Eehoboth, Mass., \nSept. 30, 1762 ; but while young removed with \nhis parents to Chester, Vt. His early literary \nattainments were small. About the year 1786 \nhe was providentially a witness of a surgical \noperation, which awakened within his breast an \nirresistible desire of becoming a student of \nmedicine. Preparatory study was called for ; \nbut this he soon performed, and entered on \nhis medical studies. In 1790, he received the \ndegree of Bachelor of Medicine, at Hartford \nCollege, the only medical school then in New- \nEngland, and the third only in the United \nStates. \n\nEnterprise was one of the leading traits in \nthe character of Dr. S. Though raised on his \nfather\'s farm, at the foot of the Green Moun- \ntains, and though yet master of but limited \nmeans, in a few years he projected a Medical \nSchool in connexion with Dartmouth College. \nHis plan being approved by President Whee- \n\n\n\n38 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nlock, lie determined to proceed to Europe, \nwhere he might perfect his qualifications, and \nobtain the necessary apparatus for commencing \nso important an enterprise. In 1797, he at- \ntended lectures in Edinburgh and in Glasgow, \npassed some months in London, and returned \nto open his lectures in 1798, which were deliv- \nered in one of the rooms in Dartmouth College. \nAs an evidence of the respect in which he was \nheld abroad, soon after he left London, he was \nelected a corresponding member of the Lon- \ndon Medical Society. \n\nDr. S. was appointed sole Professor in the \nMedical School of Dartmoath College ; and \nfor twelve years lectured himself on all the \nbranches usually taught in medical schools, \nassisted only in two courses in regard to che- \nmistry. Though thus single handed and alone, \nthe school flourished under his care, and rose \nto great distinction and usefulness. In 1823 \nhe was invited to the chair of the Theory and \nPractice of Physic and Surgery, in the School \nabout to be opened at College. Here he la- \nboured, sustaining the reputation previously \nacquired ; and in 1821, he was called to take \ncharge of the Medical School connected with \nBowdoin College, in the State of Maine. \n\nHere also he commenced, as he had done at \nDartmouth, delivering lectures on the various \n\n\n\nNATHAN SMITH. 8|| \n\nsubjects, with the exception of chemistry ; \xe2\x80\x94 \naided, however, in anatomy by the skilful \nhand of him who became his successor, the \nlamented Professor Wells. .He continued his \nlectures here for four years, and withdrew to \ngive his whole attention to the medical estab- \nlishment at New-Haven. \n\n" Dr. Smith,\'^ says President Allen, \'\xe2\x80\xa2 estab- \nlished the fourth medical school in the United \nStates. He lived afterwards thirty-one years, \nin which period he saw nearly twenty other \nsimilar institutions, organized and flourishing \nin different parts of the country, attended \nperhaps by two thousand students. And to \nwhat more than to him is to be ascribed this \nvast change in the medical advantages of \nAmerica? Who can estimate the value of \nthe results, which may be traced to the bless- \ning of God on the enterprise of one man ; and \nthat man unlettered and unknown, till he was \nnearly thirty years of age T^ \n\nAbout the middle of July, 1828, he was \nseized with a severe illness, from which he \nnever entirely recovered. He closed his life \non the 26th of January, 1829, aged sixty- \nseven. \n\nProfessor Smitli combined in his character \ngreat intellectual power, great professional \nskill and fidelity, and most of those qualities \n\n\n\n40 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nof the heart which secure the affections of so- \nciety. ^ But like too many others, though \n" exemplary in morals, instinctively kind and \nbenevolent in disposition, honourable in senti- \nment, skilful, learned, and useful,^^ he came \ndown to the bed of sickness and death, without \ngiving any practical attention to the subject \nof religion. Indeed it would be interesting to \ninquire, how far a constant devotion to the \ncharities of life may satisfy the conscience \nthough in the neglect of piety to God. \n\nBut, *-the death-bed ^s a detector of the \nheart.^^ Here conscience, however smothered \nand silenced it may have been by the busy \nand anxious cares of life, speaks out and \nmakes itself heard. Men, less philosophical, \nless disingenuous, less honest, than was Pro- \nfessor Smith, may still suppress the deep-heav- \ning emotions of such an hour, and resolve in \nthe pride of their hearts to die as they have \nlived. Not so with him. "In his last sick- \nness he requested the counsel and the prayers \nof several ministers of the gospel, who, at his \nbed-side, assisted him in his devotions and \nsupplications for mercy. And finally, when \none of his friends asked him, whether in com- \nmunicating the sad intelligence of his death \nto one of his sons, he might say, that \'he died \nin the faith and hope of the gospel?\' he pro- \n\n\n\nNATHAN SMITH. 41 \n\nfessecl that such was the fact, and wished his \nfriend thus to write.\'\' \n\nTlie life and death of Professor Smith will \nfurnish the reader with many points of inter- \nesting reflection. \n\n\n\nThere have been thousands, many of them \namong those who have been the benefactors of \nman, who, like the subject of the last sketch, \nhave lived without piety, and who, when sur- \nrounded with the dreary ruins of earthly hap- \npiness and hopes, and the images of past moni- \ntory events, convictions, neglects, broken re- \nsolutions, and withered aspirations after spirit- \nual good, have, with him, lamented their past \ndevotion to mere worldly pursuits, but who \nperhaps less fortunate have not been sustained \nin death "by the faith and hopes of the gos- \npel.\'\' What shall we do with such? Infidel- \nity does not claim them \xe2\x80\x94 will have nothing to \ndo with them ; and their names seem scarcely \nto come in for a place in Christian Biography. \nNeither infidel nor Christian, what shall we \ndo with them? We will make a short digres- \nsion for the purpose of alluding to a few such. \nThey may furnish an admonition to some \nChristian youth, not to put off till sickness or \nold age the day of repentance. \n\n\n\n42 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\n\n\nARHAND DU PLESIS DE RICHELIEU \n\nWas of noble parentage. Besides the dignity \nof cardinal, conferred on him by Glregory XV., \nhe was created duke and peer of France, and \nenjoyed all the partiality of the king and the \nadulation of the nation could bestow on him. \nHe was a great man and a celebrated states- \nman, but had few of the virtues of a good \nman. Hear his confessions at the end of his \nearthly career: \xe2\x80\x94 \n\n*^ I have been urged into many irregulari- \nties by what is called the reason of state ; and \nas I could not tell how to satisfy my conscience \nfor these deviations from rectitude, I endea- \nvoured to persuade myself that there was no \nGod, nor a future state, that I might quiet the \nupbraidings of my mind ; but my endeavours \nwere vain. So strong was the idea of God in \nmy soul ; so clear the impression of him upon \nthe frame of the world ; so unanimous the \nconsent of mankind ; and so powerful the con- \nvictions of my own conscience, that I could not \navoid feeling the necessity of admitting a \nSupreme Being and a future state ; and I \nwished to live as one that must die, and to die \nas one that must live forever.\'^ \n\nBut his sun went down amidst clouds and \n\n\n\nSIR THOMAS SMITH. 43 \n\ndarkness ; and who shall attempt to penetrate \nthe gloom of the night that succeeded ? \n\n\n\nJULIUS MAZARIN \n\nWas likewise a cardinal, and succeeded Eiche- \nlieu as prime minister of France. He was one \nof the greatest statesmen of Europe, a man \nof great ambition, and pursued with ardour \nthe chase of worldly honours. But a short \ntime before his death he perceived the vanity \nof his pursuit, and lamented the misapplica- \ntion of his time and talents. He was greatly \naffected with the prospect of his dissolution, \nand the uncertainty of his future condition. \nThis, we are told, made him cry out, " O, \nmy poor soul! what will become of thee? \nWhither wilt thou go?^^ \n\nSIR THOMAS SMITH \n\nWas of the age of Queen Elizabeth, and exe- \ncuted the high office of secretary of state to \nthe princess. He had received a liberal and \npolished education, and was king\'s Professor \nof Civil Law in the University at Cambridge. \n** This distinguished person,\'\' says a biogra- \npher, " a short time before his decease, was \nmuch affected with the prospect of his dissolu- \n\n\n\n44 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\ntion and of a future state. He sent to his \nfriends, the bishops of Winchester and Wor- \ncester, and entreated them to state to him \nfrom the Holy Scriptures, the plainest and \nsurest way of making his peace with God; \nadding, * It is lamentable, that men consider \nnot for what end they are born into the world, \ntill they are ready to go out of it.\' \'^ We \nleave his case where the memoir which w^e \nhave consulted leaves it. \n\n\n\nHENRY BEAUFORT \n\nWas of royal extraction, being the son of John \nof Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, and brother of \nHenry IV., of England. He was successively \nchancellor of England, ambassador to France^ \na cardinal in 1426, and legate in Germany. \nIn his character he was proud, haughty, and \nambitious ; and was commonly called the rich \nCardinal of Winchester. In his last moments \nhe thus vented his afflicted soul to his friends \nwho surrounded him : " And must I then die? \nWill not all my riches save me? I could pur- \nchase the kingdom, if that would prolong my \nlife. Alas ! there is no bribing death. When \nmy nephew, the Duke of Bedford, died, I \nthought my happiness and my authority \ngreatly increased ; but the Duke of Glouces- \n\n\n\nTHOMAS WOLSEY. 45 \n\nter\'s death raised me in fancy to a level with \nkings, and I thought of nothing but accumu- \nlating still greater wealth, to enable me at \nlength to purchase the triple crown. Alas ! \nhow are my hopes disappointed ! Wherefore, \nO my friends, let me earnestly beseech you to \npray for me, and recommend my departing soul \nto God/\' \n\n\n\nCiESAR BORGIA \n\nWas a natural son of Pope Alexander VI., and \nwas raised to the dignity of duke, by Louis \nXII., of France. At the close of a life of \ncruelty as well as of ambition, he made the \nfollowing humiliating confession :\xe2\x80\x94 \n\n*^ I have provided, in the course of my life, \nfor everything except death ; and now, alas ! \nI am to die, although entirely unprepared." \n\nTHOMAS WOLSEY \n\nWas a celebrated favourite at the court of \nHenry VIII., of England. He rose to the \nelevated stations of lord high chancellor and \nprime minister, and was for several years the \narbiter of Europe. A short time before he \nleft the world, the review of his life, and a con- \nsciousness of the misapplication of liis time \nand talents, drew from him this sorrowful \n\n\n\n46 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\ndeclaration: ^^Had I but served my God as \ndiligently as I have served tlie king, he would \nnot have given me over in my gray hairs. But \nthis is the just reward that I must receive for \nmy indulgent pains and study, not regarding \nmy service to God, but only to my prince.\'^ \n\nIt is melancholy to reflect, how few of the \npoliticians of our own country are pious men. \nHow many of them will have to bequeath to \nthe world only some such sad memorial as \nhave these illustrious men. \n\n\n\nDUKE OF BUCKINGHAM. \n\nThis may meet the eye of some young man \njust entering upon a course of pleasurable \nsin, and who will be induced to flee from that \nwhich he sees can end only in sorrow. The \nestate of Buckingham, says the Earl of Cla- \nrendon, was at one time the greatest in Eng- \nland; though he died in abject poverty. A \nfew days before his death, while reviewing a \nlife spent in pleasure and folly, and conse- \nquently in sin, he wrote the following letter \nto a particular friend \xe2\x80\x94 Dr. Barrow : \xe2\x80\x94 \n\n" Dear Doctor, \xe2\x80\x94 I always looked upon you \nto be a person of true virtue, and know you \nto have a sound understanding ; for however \n\n\n\nDUKE OF BUCKINGHAM. 47 \n\nI have acted in opposition to the principles of \nreligion, or the dictates of reason, I can \nhonestly assure you, I have always had the \nhighest veneration for both. The world and \nI shake hands \xe2\x80\x94 for I dare affirm we are \nheartily weary of each other. O, what a pro- \ndigal have I been of that most valuable of all \npossessions \xe2\x80\x94 time ! I have squandered it away \nwith a profusion unparalleled ; and now, when \nthe enjoyment of a few days would be worth \nthe world, I cannot flatter myself with the \nprospect of half a dozen hours. How despica- \nble, my dear friend, is that man who never \nprays to his God but in the time of distress ! \nIn what manner can he supplicate that omni- \npotent Being in his afflictions, whom in the \ntime of his prosperity he never remembered \nwith reverence ? Do not brand me with infi- \ndelity, when I tell you that I am almost \nashamed to offer up my petitions at the throne \nof grace, or to implore that divine mercy in \nthe next world which I have scandalously \nabused in this. Shall ingratitude to man be \nlooked upon as the blackest of crimes, and not \ningratitude to God ? Shall an insult offered \nto the king be looked upon in the most offen- \nsive light, and yet no notice be taken when \nthe King of kings is treated with indignity \nand disrespect ? \n\n\n\n48 CHKISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\n" The companions of my former libertinism \nwould scarcely believe their eyes were you to \nshow them this epistle. They would laugh at \nme as a dreaming enthusiast, or pity me as a \ntimorous wretch who was shocked at the ap- \npearance of futurity ; but whoever laughs at \nme for being right, or pities me for being sen- \nsible of my errors, is more entitled to my com- \npassion than resentment. A future state may \nwell enough strike terror into any man who \nhas not acted well in this life ; and he must \nhave an uncommon share of courage indeed, \nwho does not shrink at the presence of God. \nThe apprehensions of death will soon bring \nthe most profligate to a proper use of his un- \nderstanding. To what a situation am I now \nreduced ! From my rank I might have ex- \npected affluence to wait upon my life ; from \nreligion and understanding, peace to smile \nupon my end : instead of which I am afflicted \nwith poverty, haunted with remorse, and, I \nfear, forsaken by my God ! \n\n" There is nothing so dangerous as extraor- \ndinary abilities. I cannot be accused of van- \nity now, by being sensible that I was once \npossessed of uncommon qualifications, especi- \nally as I sincerely regret that I ever had \nthem. My rank in life made these accom- \nplishments still more conspicuous ; and, fasci- \n\n\n\nDUKE OF BUCKINGHAM. 4^ \n\nnated by the general applause which they \nprocured, I never considered the proper means \nby which they should be displayed. Hence, \nto procure a smile from a blockhead whom I \ndespised, I have frequently treated the vir- \ntuous with disrespect ; and sported with the \nholy name of Heaven, to obtain a laugh from \na parcel of fools, who were entitled to nothing \nbut contempt. Your men of wit generally \nlook upon themselves as discharged from the \nduties of religion, and confine the doctrines \nof the gospel to people of meaner understand- \nings. It is a sort of derogation, in their \nopinion, to comply with the rules of Christi- \nanity ; and they reckon that man possessed \nof a narrow genius who studies to be good. \nWhat a pity that the Holy Writings are not \nmade the criterion of true judgment ! or that \nany person should pass for a gentleman in \nthis world, but he that appears solicitous \nabout his happiness in the next ! \n\n** Favour me with a visit as soon as possi- \nble. Writing to you gives me some ease, \nespecially on a subject I could talk of forever. \n1 am of opinion this is the last visit I shall \never solicit from you : my distemper is power- \nful. Come and pray for the departing spirit \nof the poor, unhappy Buc^kingham/\' \n\n4 \n\n\n\n50 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\n\n\nGEORGE CUYIER. \n\nGeorge Cuvier was born on the 23d of Au- \ngust, 1769, at Montbeliard, then a part of the \nkingdom of Wurtemburg, but now belonging \nto France. The mind of Cuvier early devel- \noped its peculiar tendencies and its wonder- \nftil powers. So various were his attainments, \nand so comprehensive his researches, that I \nshall not attempt to enter into them specifi- \ncally. As a legislator, as an orator, as an \nanatomist, and especially as a natural histo- \nrian and as an author, was he greatly distin- \nguished. In his memoirs, written by Mrs. \nLee, the bare list of his published works, fills \neight 12mo. pages. In 1819, he was created \nbaronet, and in 1832, the year of his death, \nwas raised to the peerage of France. \n\nCuvier was claimed as their countryman, \nboth by the French and the Germans ; and at \nthe time of his death was perhaps the man \nwhom the scientific world delighted most to \nhonour. The principal reason for introducing \nthis sketch of Cuvier, is to show the fallacy \nof the claim which infidelity has brought in, \nto have his name enrolled among her vota- \nries. Baron Cuvier was a Christian. This is \nfully sustained by the following quotations \n\n\n\nGEORGE CUVIER. 51 \n\nfrom the Foreign Quarterly Review^ for Octo- \nber, 1838:\xe2\x80\x94 \n\n\'^ As the minister of public instruction, he \nendeavoured above all, by his own private in- \njunctions as well as his public regulations, \nto make the love of God, and the divine pre- \ncepts of the gospel, the basis of all instruc- \ntion.\'\' \n\n** To establish the fact, that M. Cuvier was \na really religious man, we conceive would not \nbe difficult ; but as to what particular section \nof Protestantism he belonged to, there are no \ngrounds for assertion or conclusion, for though \nfervent in private prayer, he was never heard \nto make a public profession of faith. There \nwere, however, qualities in M. Cuvier of so \nsuperior a nature, that they at once stamp \nhim as highly religious. He promoted the \ncause of true religion by every means in his \npower, both public and private ; he was a \nwarm supporter of the Bible Society, and \ncaused the Old and New Testament to be \nwidely disseminated in every part of Protes- \ntant France. In his letters to the heads of \ncolleges, and masters of schools, he strongly \nrecommended them to teach for the love of \nGod, himself pointing out their duties accord- \ning to that great rule. He constantly ad- \nhered to th(^ Protestmit fnith, when it wos well \n\n\n\n52 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nknown that a change to the Eoman Catholic \nform of worship would have been the surest \nstep to the attainment of the highest honours \nof the State ; he caused a number of chapels \nto be established in order to give facility for \nattending divine worship ; he in all his works \nrefers the wonders of creation to the one true \nsource. He never would receive any salary \nfor administering to the interests of the Pro- \ntestant religion \xe2\x80\x94 but faithfully discharged all \nthe duties of this office, with a zeal which \nshowed that he had a much higher motive \nthan that of gain or reputation. \n\n" When the hour of death came, he \n\nmet it with the firmest composure ; he traced \nthe progress of his disorder, foretold its phases \nwith calmness, bore his sufferings without a \ncomplaint, secured the welfare of others, and \ngave his final directions on every subject, with \nthe cool courage of a great and religious \nmind, and an unstained conscience.\'^ \n\nShould these extracts leave a doubt on the \nmind of any one, whether Cuvier w^as a Chris- \ntian or an infidel, permit me to inquire. Where \nin the history of the world has ever been \nfound another infidel such as he is here repre- \nsented to have been ? \n\n\n\nGEORUE LYTTLETON. 58 \n\n\n\nGEORGE LYTTLETON. \n\n\n\nGeorge Lyttleton was born in Worcester- \nshire, England, in 1709 ; and was educated at \nEaton and Christ\'s Church, Oxford, where he \ndistinguished himself as a polite scholar and \na good poet. In 1728, on leaving the univer- \nsity, he travelled extensively on the conti- \nnent ; and on his return home obtained a seat \nin parliament. He successively filled the of- \nfices of secretary to the Prince of Wales, lord \nof the exchequer, privy counsellor, and chan- \ncellor of the exchequer ; and in 1757 was \nraised to the peerage. The remainder of his \nlife his lordship passed in honourable retire- \nment from the political turbulence of his times. \nHe was a distinguished statesman, and an in- \ntimate friend of the elder Pitt. \n\nLord Lyttleton was an able writer. Among \nother literary productions of his, is an elabo- \nrate history of Henry II. \n\nThe testimonials in favour of his religious \ncharacter are unanimous and unequivocal. \nDavid Simpson, author of the Plea for Reli- \ngion, speaks of him thus : \xe2\x80\x94 " The late Lord \nLyttleton, and his friend Gilbert West, Esq., \nhad botli imbibed the principles of unbelief, \nand had agreed together to write something \n\n\n\n54 CHRISTIAN BIOUKAPHY. \n\nin favour of infidelity. To do this more effec- \ntually, they judged it necessary first to ac- \nquaint themselves pretty well with the con- \ntents of the Bible. By the perusal of that \nbook, however, they were both convicted of \ntheir error ; both were converts to the reli- \ngion of Christ Jesus ; both took up their pens \nand wrote in favour of it \xe2\x80\x94 the former, his \nObservations on the Conversion of St. Paul; the \nlatter, his Observations on the Resurrection of \nChrist \xe2\x80\x94 and both died in peace." \n\nA biographer says: "Lyttleton in the former \npart of his life had been a sceptic, but his ma- \nture age viewed with concern the levities and \ndangerous tenets of dissolute companions, and \nafter a studious application, he produced, in \n1747, \' Observations on the Conversion and Apos- \ntleship of St Paul,^ a valuable book, which \ninfidelity will never be able to answer. His \nlordship died August 22d, 1773, aged 64. On \nhis death-bed he displayed all the calmness \nand resignation of a great mind. He again \nreminded his physician. Dr. Johnson, that he \ndied a sincere Christian, and with composure \ngiving his blessings to those around him, he \ntold Lord Valentia, who with his lady was at \nhis bed-side, with a voice of solemn affection, \n\' Be good, be virtuous, my lord, \xe2\x80\x94 you must \ncome to this.^ \'^ \n\n\n\nGEORGE LYTTLETON. 56 \n\nDr. Johnson himself says : " Lord Lyttle- \nton, in the pride of juvenile confidence, with \nthe help of corrupt conversation, entertained \ndoubts of the truth of Christianity ; but he \nthought afterwards, it was no longer fit to \ndoubt, or believe by chance, and therefore ap- \nplied himself seriously to the great question. \nHis studies being honest, ended in conviction. \nHe found that religion was true ; and what \nhe had learned he endeavoured to teach, by \nObservations on the Conversion of St Paul, \xe2\x80\x94 a \ntreatise to which infidelity has never been \nable to fabricate a specious answer.\'^ \n\nWe also have his own account of his con- \nversion. Two days before his death, he ad- \ndressed his physician thus : \xe2\x80\x94 " When I first \nset out in the world, I had friends who endea- \nvoured to shake my belief in the Christian \nreligion. I saw difficulties which staggered \nme, but I kept my mind open to conviction. \nThe evidences and doctrines of Christianity, \nstudied with attention, made me a most firm \nand persuaded believer of the Christian reli- \ngion. I have made it the rule of mj^ life, and \n\xe2\x80\x94 it is the ground of my future hopes.^\' \n\nShould this sketch meet the eye of any \nsceptical reader, let me say, \xe2\x80\x94 Go and do as \ndid this great man ; and may your last end \nbe like his. \n\n\n\n4~ \n\n\n\n56 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\n\n\nGILBERT WEST. \n\n\n\nGilbert West was referred to in my last \nsketch as an intimate friend of Lord Lyttle- \nton. He too was educated at Eaton and Christ \nChurch, Oxford. He held some civil offices \nunder the government, hut appears never to \nhave courted puhlic life. After his marriage \nhe settled at Wickham, Kent, where we are \ntold " his retirement was frequently visited \nby Lyttleton and Pitt, who, weary with fac- \ntion and political debates, courted his society \nand the tranquillity of his abode.\'^ He was \nin several ways honourably noticed by Pitt. \nHis association with these men sufficiently \nestablishes his general character. \n\nTo the classical scholar, he is favourably \nknown by his translation of Pindar^s Odes \ninto English \xe2\x80\x94 a valuable, elegant, and spirited \ncomposition. \n\nHis biography says, that in his retirement \nat Wickham, " he devoted himself to literary \nand religious pursuits.\'\' His Observations on \nthe Resurrection of Christ, written after his \nconversion from infidelity, was deemed a work \nof great merit, and obtained for him, from \nthe University of Oxford, the honourable de- \ngree of LL.D. \n\n\n\nROGER SHERMAN. 67 \n\nDr. West, writing to Dr. Doddridge on the \npublication of his Memoirs of Colonel Gardi- \nner, ascribes his own conversion from a state \nof infidelity, into which he had been seduced, \nto the care his mother had taken in his edu- \ncation. \'\' I cannot help taking notice,^\' says \nhe, " of your remarks upon the advantage of \nan early education in the principles of reli- \ngion, because I have myself most happily ex- \nperienced it, since I owe to the early care of a \nmost excellent woman, my mother, that bent \nand bias to religion, which, with the co-ope- \nrating grace of God, hath at length brought \nme back to those paths of peace from whence \nI might have otherwise been in danger of de- \nviating forever. ^^ \n\nHow valuable this testimony of such a man ! \nand how fortunate, could his example be the \nmeans of bringing back to " the paths of \npeace,^^ some other young man, who may have \nhitherto disregarded the pious instructions of \na sainted mother ! \n\n\n\nROGER SHERMAN". \n\nRoger Sherman was born in Newton, Mass., \nApril 19, 1721 ; and though he received no \nother education than the ordinary schools at \nthat time afforded, yet by his ardent thirst for \n\n\n\n58 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nknowledge, he acquired a very considerable \nacquaintance with the various branches of \ngeneral science, became thoroughly versed in \nlaw and politics, and attained to some of the \nhighest honours of our country. \n\nHe was early apprenticed to a shoemaker, \nand followed this trade till he was twenty-two \nyears of age, when he commenced business as \na country merchant in New Milford, Conn. \nBy a circumstance which may be deemed pro- \nvidential, he was led to the study of the law, \nand in 1754 was admitted to the bar. In \n1759 he was appointed a judge of the county \ncourt, and in 1766 advanced to a seat on the \nbench of the superior court, and was also \nchosen a member of the council. He was \nelected a member of congress in 1774, and \ncontinued to hold a seat in that body, except \nwhen excluded by the law requiring a rota- \ntion. In 1776, he was appointed in conjunc- \ntion with John Adams, Thomas Jefferson, \nBenjamin Franklin, and Eobert E. Livings- \nton, to draw up the Declaration of Indepen- \ndence, and was one of the signers of that in- \nstrument. He was also a conspicuous member \nin the convention which formed the Constitu- \ntion of the United States. In 1791 he was \nchosen a senator in congress, and retained the \nstation till the time of his death. \n\n\n\nKOUER SHERMAN. 59 \n\nOf Mr. Sherman, John Adams says, he was \n*^ one of the soundest and strongest pillars of \nthe Eevolution.\'\' Mr. Jefferson, pointing to \nMr. Sherman, once said, " That is Mr. Sher- \nman, of Connecticut, a man who never said a \nfoolish thing in his life.^^ Such was Eoger \nSherman ; and such he was, in consequence of \nhis early and steady adherence to the princi- \nples of Christianity. Before he was twenty- \none years of age he made a public profession \nof religion. \n\n** The most interesting lesson which the life \nof Mr. Sherman teaches,^\' says one of his bio- \ngraphers, " is the paramount importance of re- \nligious principle. His undeviating political \nintegrity was not the result of mere patriotism \nor philanthropy. He revolved in a higher \norbit. The volume which he consulted more \nthan any other was the Bible. It was his cus- \ntom to purchase a copy of the Scriptures at \nthe commencement of every session of con- \ngress, to peruse it daily, and to present it to \none of his children on his return. To his \nfamiliar acquaintance with this blessed book, \nmuch of that extraordinary sagacity which he \nuniformly exhibited, is to be attributed. The \nsecond President Edwards used to call him \nhis * great and good friend, Senator Sher- \nman f and acknowledged, that, in the general \n\n\n\n.60 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\ncourse of a long and intimate acquaintance, \nhe was materially assisted by his observa- \ntions on the principal subjects of doctrinal and \npractical divinity.\'^ \n\n" He was not ashamed/^ says D. Edwards, \n" to befriend religion, to appear openly on the \nLord^s side, or to avow and defend the peculiar \ndoctrines of grace. He was exemplary in at- \ntending all the institutions of the gospel, in \nthe practice of virtue in general, and in show- \ning himself friendly to all good men. With \nall his elevation and with all his honours, he \nwas not at all lifted up, but appeared perfectly \nunmoved. ^^ \n\nOn the 23d of July, 1793, this great and ex- \ncellent man died, aged seventy-two \xe2\x80\x94 died in \nthe full possession of all his powers both of \nmind and body \xe2\x80\x94 died as the Christian would \nwish to die. \n\n" What an example,^^ says the Eev. B. B. \nEdwards, " is here presented for the youthful \nlawyer and statesman ! Would he rise to the \nmost distinguished usefulness, would he be- \nqueath a character and an influence to pos- \nterity ^ above all Greek or Eoman fame,^ let \nhim, like Koger Sherman, lay the foundations \nin the fear of God, and in obedience to the \ngospel of Jesus Christ. ^^ \n\n\n\nSAMUEL ADAMS. 61 \n\n\n\nCHAPTER 11. \n\nSAMUEL ADAMS ROBERT TREAT PAINE MATTHEW THORNTON \n\nSAMUEL HUNTINGDON WILLIAM WILLIAMS \xe2\x80\x94 PHILIP LIV- \nINGSTON RICHARD STOCKTON JOHN WITHERSPOON \xe2\x80\x94 JOHN \n\nHART \xe2\x80\x94 BENJAMIN RUSH ^JOHN MORTON \xe2\x80\x94 ^JAMES SMITH \n\nSAMUEL CHASE \xe2\x80\x94 THOMAS STONE FRANCIS LIGHTFOOT LEE \n\nBENJAMIN FRANKLIN \xe2\x80\x94 HUMPHREY DAVY \xe2\x80\x94 WILLIAM JONES \n\n^JOHN SELDEN \xe2\x80\x94 JAMES GARDINER GEORGE WASHINGTON \n\nTIMOTHY PICKERING ISAAC SHELBY BENJAMIN LINCOLN \n\n\xe2\x80\x94 JOHN BROOKS ELIEZER BROOKS MATTHEW CLARKSON. \n\nSAMT?EL ADAMS, LL. D., \n\nWith his friend John Hancock, by the last act \nof British rule in Massachusetts, was pro- \nscribed, while pardon was announced to all \nothers who had shared in the resistance to the \nmeasures of the British ministry. This gives \nhim an enviable distinction among the patriots \nof that day. On the adoption of a constitution \nby Massachusetts, he was elected president of \nthe senate ; and subsequently, for mau}^ suc- \ncessive years, filled the ofiices of lieutenant- \ngovernor, and of chief magistrate in the State. \nA biographer says, \'\' Mr. Adams was a Chris- \ntian, as well as a man of science. He early \napproached the table of the Lord Jesus, \nand the purity of his life witnessed the sin- \ncerity of his profession. On the Christian \n\n\n\n62 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nSabbath he constantly went to the temple ; and \nthe morning and evening devotions in his \nfamily proved, that his religion attended him \nin his seasons of retirement from the world. \nThe last production of his pen was in favour \nof Christian truth. He died in the faith of \nthe gospel.^\' \n\n\n\nROBERT TREAT PAINE, LL.D, \n\nWas also one of the Massachusetts delegation, \nand after the adoption of the^ State constitu- \ntion, held successively, for many years, the \noffices of attorney-general of the State, and of \njudge of the supreme court. \n\nA biographer says, " Judge Paine was a \nfirm believer in the divine origin of the Chris- \ntian religion. He gave full credence to the \nScriptures, as a revelation from God, designed \nto instruct mankind in a knowledge of their \nduty, and to guide them in the way to eternal \nhappiness.^^ \n\n\n\nMATTHEW THORNTON, \n\nOf the New-Hampshire delegation, subse- \nquently held the offices of chief justice of the \ncounty of Hillsborough, and of judge of the \nsupreme court of the State. \n\n\n\nSAMUEL HUNTINGDON. 63 \n\nEev. Dr. Burnap says, in his funeral sermon, \n" He was exemplary for his regard for the \npublic institutions of religion, and for his con- \nstancy in attending the public worship, where \nhe trod the courts of the house of God with \nsteps tottering with age and infirmity.^\' \n\n\n\nSAMUEL HUNTINGDON, \n\nOf the Connecticut delegation, subsequently \nheld the offices of lieutenant governor, chief \njudge, and governor of the State. \n\nA biographer says, " The death of this ex- \ncellent and distinguished man occurred on the \nCAh of January, 1796, in the sixty-fourth year \nof his age. His departure from the world, as \nmight be expected from the even tenor of his \nlife, and from the decided Christian character \nand conversation which he had manifested, \nwas tranquil. He had for many years been a \nprofessor of religion, and a devoted attendant \nupon the ordinances of the gospel. His seat \nin the house of God was seldom vacant ; and \nwhen occasion required, he was ready to lead \nin an address to the throne of grace ; and was \nable to impart instruction to the people, drawn \nfrom the pure oracles of God.\'\' \n\n\n\n64 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\n\n\nWILLIAM WILLIAMS \n\nWas one of the Connecticut delegation. He \nfilled several honourable offices in his State, \nand was also for several years a member of \ncongress. On declining a re-election to con- \ngress, in an address to the people he admon- \nished them to appoint for his successor, " one \nwho feared God, is a friend of the constitution \nand to the administration of the venerable \nWashington.\'^ \n\nA biographer says, " Mr. Williams made a \nprofession of religion at an early age, and \nthrough the course of his life he was distin- \nguished for an humble and consistent conduct \nand conversation. His latter days were \nchiefly devoted to reading, meditation, and \nprayer. At length the hour arrived when \nGod would take him to himself. He gave up \nthe ghost in a good old age, and was gathered \nto his fathers.\'^ \n\n\n\nPHILIP LIVINGSTON \n\nWas a member of the New- York delegation, \nand was subsequently distinguished, both in his \nown State and in congress, a session of which \nhe was attendino; at the time of liis deatli. \n\n\n\nJOHN WlTllER^<r00X. GO \n\nA biographer thus speaks of him : " He was \na firm believer in tlie great trutlis of tlic \nCliristian system, and a sincere and hunibh* \nfollower of the Divine Eedeemer." \n\n\n\nRICHARD STOCKTON \n\nWas a member of the NeAV-Jersey delegation ; \nand held the office of judge, both under tlie \nprovisional government and after the adoption \nof the constitution in 1770. He was an ac- \ncomplished scholar as well as statesman. \n\nThe Eev. Dr. Samuel S. Smith, in a dis- \ncourse delivered on the occasion of his inter- \nment, says, ^\' As a Christian, you know that, \nmany years a member of this Church, he was \nnot ashamed of the gospel of Christ. Nor \ncould the ridicule of licentious wits, nor the \nexample of vice in power, tempt him to dis- \nguise the profession of it, or to decline from \nthe practice of its virtues.\'^ \n\nJOHN WITHERSPOON, D.D., LL.i).. \n\nA man of distinguished piety, learning, and \ntalents, was one of the signers of the Declara- \ntion of Independence. \n\n\n\n66 ciirasTiAN biography. \n\n\n\nJOim HART. \n\n\n\nAlso one of tlie New- Jersey delegation, and \nwho retained his seat in congress till his death \nin 1779, \'\'enjoyed the repntation of being a \nsincere and hnmble Christian/^ He was a \nmember of the Baptist Chnrch in Hopewell, \nHunterdon county, N. J. \n\n\n\nBENJAMIN RUSR M.D., LL.D., \n\nWas a member of the Pennsylvania delega- \ntion, and was, in the best sense of the term, a \ngreat man. His father having died when he \nwas but six years of age, the care of his educa- \ntion devolved upon his motliei*. Under the \ncare of judicious teachers, he was early trained \nfor both worlds. His biographer says, " Such \nwas the force of pious example and religious \neducation in the first fifteen years of his life, \nthat though he spent the ensuing nine in \nPhiladelphia, Edinburgh, London, and Paris, \nexposed to the manifold temptations which are \ninseparable from great cities, yet he returned, \nat the age of twenty-four, to his native country, \nwith unsullied purity of morals. The sneers \nof infidels, and the fascinations of pleasure, \nhad no power to divert him from the correct \n\n\n\nJAMES SMITH. 67 \n\nprinciples and virtuous habits wliicli had been \ningrafted on his mind in early youth.\'\' \n\nIt is added : " Piety to God was an eminent \ntrait in the character of Dr. Eush. In all his \nprinted works and in all his private transac- \ntions, he professed the most profound respect \nand veneration for the Eternal.\'\' And Dr. \nAllen, after citing many instances of distin- \nguished piety in the medical profession, re- \nmarks : \'^ Need I speak of the illustrious Rush, \nwho deemed riches and fame as incomparably \nless valuable than the religious principles \nwhich he received from his parents ; and who \nwas accustomed at the close of every day to \nread in his family a chapter of the Bible, and \nthen to address God in prayer ?" \n\nJOHN MOKTON, \n\nA delegate from the same State, and for \nsome time a jndge of the supreme court, \n** was a professor of religion and truly an ex- \ncellent man." \n\n\n\nJAMES SMITH, \n\nAlso from Pennsylvania, \'\' was for many years \na professor of religion, and very regular in \nhis attendance on public worship." \n\n\n\n68 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\n\n\nSAMUEL CHASE \n\n\n\nWas a member of the Maryland delegation, \nand was subsequently appointed by Wasliing- \nton an associate judge of the supreme court of \nthe United States, a station which he con- \ntinued to occupy for fifteen years. ** He was \na firm believer in Christianity ; and but a \nshort time before his death having partaken \nof the sacrament, he declared himself to be in \npeace Avith all mankind.^^ \n\nTHOMAS STONE \n\nWas also from Maryland, and shared largely \nin the honours of his State. " He was a pro- \nfessor of religion, and distinguished for a sin- \ncere and fervent piety.^^ \n\nFRANCIS LIGHTFOOT LEE \n\nWas chosen a delegate from Virginia in \n1775, and, both before and after that period, \nreceived numerous tokens of confidence from \nhis native State. A short sketch of his public \nlife, now before me, says : ^^ It is said that he \nhad embraced the religion of the gospel, \nand that under its supporting hope and con- \n\n\n\nBENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 69 \n\nsolatioii, he made his exit in peace from the \nworld/\' \n\nLet these examples suffice. Such, it is be- \nlieved, were many of those immortal men \nwhose names shall never die. To the true \nsons of liberty it cannot but be interesting to \nknow, that those whose names they so much \nrevere, and who were so highly honoured of \nmen, were honoured also of God ; that they \nhave gone to a reward which mere patriotism \ncan never buy. \n\n\n\nBENJAMIN FRANKLIN. \n\nIt is with feelings of sadness that the writer \never reverts to the memory of any one who \nhas ever given evidence of being a believer in \nChristianity, who has given to tlie Christian \nsystem the assent of a powerful mind, yet who \nhas left the world without leaving behind him \nevideiice that himself has been a partaker of \nits full excellence. Such have fully adopted \nChristianity, as a system of belief, though they \nmay not have adopted it as a system of re- \nligious faith. \n\nIt is not to produce in the minds of my \nreaders such a feeling of sadness as this that 1 \nthus write; but it is to do an act of justice, to \ndistinguished intellectual excellence, in wrest- \n\n\n\n70 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\ning from the grasp of infidels, two from among \nthe brilliant names which adorn the annals of \nmodern science. Who would wish to leave \nthe world in any possible doubt whether he \nwere a Christian or an infidel ? But if so un- \nfortunate as this, who would not wish his name \nrescued from so foul a disgrace as an associa- \ntion with infidelity implies ? \n\nBenjamin Franklin acknowledged himself, \nin the early part of his life, to have been \nsceptical in religion ; but we have the testi- \nmony of his intimate friend. Dr. William \nSmith, that " in his maturer years he became \na believer in divine revelation. ^^ Extracts \nfrom his own writings go far to show his re- \nspect for religion and sacred things. In one \nof his letters, referring to our national pros- \nperity, he says: \'\'Had it not been for the \njustice of our cause, and the consequent in- \nterposition of Providence, in which we had \nfaith, we must have been ruined. If I had \never before been an atheist I should now have \nbeen convinced of the being and government \nof a Deity. It is he that abases the proud \nand elevates the humble ; may we never for- \nget his goodness, and may our future conduct \nmanifest our gratitude.\'\' \n\nThe following is found in his memoirs, writ- \nten bv himself : "And here let me with all \n\n\n\nBENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 7| \n\nliumility acknowledge, that to Divine Provi- \ndence I am indebted for the felicity I have \nhitherto enjoyed. It is that power alone \nv/hich has furnished me with the means I \nhave employed, and that has crowned them \nwith success. My future fortune is unknown \nbut to Him, in whose hand is our destiny, and \nwho can make our very afflictions subservient \nto our benefit.^^ \n\nThe following letter of Dr. Franklin, found \nin his works, edited by his grandson, William \nTemple Franklin, (London edition, vol. iii., p. \n279,) addressed to the author of an infidel \npublication, submitted to him in manuscript, \n(probably Paine,) also presents special claims \nto our attention : \xe2\x80\x94 \n\n\'* Dear Sir, \xe2\x80\x94 I have read your manuscript \nwith some attention. By the argument which \nit contains against a particular providence, \nthough you allow a general providence, you \nstrike at tlie foundation of all religion. For \nAvithout the belief of a providence, that takes \ncognizance of, guards and guides, and may \nfavour particular persons, there is no motive \nto worship a Deity, to fear its displeasure, or \nto pray for its protection. I will not enter \ninto any discussion of your principles, though \nyou seem to desire it. At present I shall only \n\n\n\n72 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\ngive you my opinion, that tliongh your reason- \ning is .subtle, and may prevail with some \nreaders, you Avill not succeed so as to change \nthe general sentiments of mankind on that sub- \nject, and the consequences of printing this \npiece will be a great deal of odium drawn \nupon yourself, mischief to you, and no benefit \nto others. He that spits against the wind \nspits in his own face. But were you to suc- \nceed, do you imagine any good will be done \nby it ? You may find it easy to live a virtuous \nlife without the aid of religion, you having a \nclear perception of the advantages of virtue \nand disadvantages of vice, and possessing a \nstrength of resolution sufficient to enable you \nto resist common temptations. But think how \ngreat a portion of mankind consists of igno- \nrant men and women, and of inexperienced, \ninconsiderate youth of both sexes, who Jiave \nneed of the motives of religion to restrain \nthem from vice, support their virtue, and re- \ntain them in the practice of it till it becomes \nhabitual, which is the great point of security. \nAnd perhaps you are indebted to her originally, \nthat is, to your religious education, for the \nhabits of virtue upon Avhich you now justly \nvalue yourself. You might easily display your \ntalents of reasoning upon a less hazardous \nsubject, and thereby obtain a rank with our \n\n\n\nHUMPHRF.Y DAVY. 73 \n\nmost distinguished autliors. For among us \nit is not necessary, as among the Hottentots, \ntliat a youth, to he raised into the company \nof men, sliould prove his manhood by heating \n]iis mother. I would advise you, therefore, \nnot to attempt unchaining the tiger, but to \nburn this piece before it is seen by any other \nperson, whereby you will save yourself a great \ndeal of mortification from the enemies it may \nraise against you, and perhaps a gx3od deal of \nregret and repentance. \n\n" If men are so wicked with religion, wliat \nAvould they be without it? I intend this let- \nter itself as a proof of my friendship, and \ntherefore add no professions to it, but sub- \nscribe simply/^ \n\n\n\nHUMPHREY DAVY. \n\nOf Sir H. Davy\'s religious opinions and feel- \nings the writer of these sketches knows but \nlittle. He is supposed, however, not to have \nbeen practically pious. The following striking \nsentence is found among his writing\'s : \xe2\x80\x94 " I \nenvy no quality of the mind or intellect in \nothers ; not genius, power, wit, or fancy ; but \nif I could choose what would be most deliglit- \nful, and I believe most useful to me, I should \n\n\n\n74 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nprefer a firm religious belief, to every other \nblessing; \xe2\x80\x94 for it makes life a discipline of \ngoodness \xe2\x80\x94 creates new hopes when all earthly \nhopes vanish, and throws over the decay, the \ndestruction of existence, the most gorgeous \nof all lights ; awakens life even in death, and \nfrom corruption and decay calls up beauty \nand divdnity ; makes an instrument of torture \nand of shame the ladder of ascent to paradise ; \nand, far above all combinations of earthly \nhopes, calls up the most delightful visions of \npalms and amaranths, the gardens of the \nblessed, the security of everlasting joys, where \nthe sensualist and the sceptic view only gloom, \ndecay, and annihilation/^ His last work, \n" Consolaticms in Travel,^ ^ still more fully de- \nvelops the religious tendency of his mind. \n\nSurely the names of these men cannot with \nany propriety be added to the lists of infidel- \nity, though frequently there found. How \nmany such there are among us at present, \nwho would start at the idea of having their \nnames, after they are dead, set down among \nthe advocates of an impious and destructive \ninfidelity, or even of an immoral scepticism I \nThough we may admit they were practical \nneglecters of this great salvation, they neither \nof them appear to have been established in un- \nbelief. The one, once sceptical, afterwards \n\n\n\nWILLIAM JONES. 75 \n\nbecame a believer ; tlie other appears never \nto have withdrawn time enough from his \nother pursuits, to examine the subject fully. \nAn infidel, however, he was not. \n\n\n\nWILLIAM JONES. \n\nWilliam Jones was born in London, in 1748. \nHis father dying in his infancy, his early \ncharacter was developed under the care of his \nmother, a woman of high character for sensi- \nbility and understanding. At the age of six- \nteen, he entered University College, Oxford, \nand at twenty-two commenced the study of law. \n\nAt the age of twenty-six, were published \nhis commentaries on Asiatic poetry ; and from \nthat period his published works show him \ndeeply learned, not only in the literature of \nthe East, but in legal knowledge. In con- \nsideration of his attainments in these depart- \nments of learning, in 1793 he was appointed \nto preside in the Supreme Court of Calcutta ; \nand on that occasion he received the honour \nof knighthood. _^ \n\nSir William Jones died at the age of forty- \neight, but not till he had made great attain- \nments in science and in polite learning. He \nwas eminent as a judge, and for his profound \nknowledge of the laws of England ; he was \n\n\n\n76 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\ndistinguished for his attainments in astro- \nnomy, chronology, antiquities, music, and \nbotany ; he was a good poet, an able critic, \nand an indefatigable historian ; and in his \nknowledge of the languages has probably been \nsurpassed by few if any. The writer of these \nsketches thinks of none who can be set in \ncompetition with him for a comprehensive \nknowledge of the languages, unless it be Alex- \nander Murray. \n\nA biographer says : " Before this illustrious \nscholar went to India, he was by no means \nfree from a sceptical bias. But when he re- \nsided in Asia, he investigated with rigid and \nminute attention, all those intricate theologi- \ncal points which had occasioned his doubts ; \nand the result was, not only his own most \ncomplete conviction, but the conviction of se- \nveral eminent scholars, who, till then, had but \nslightly attended to the proofs of the verity \nof the Mosaic writings. These gentlemen, \nfrom that time, renounced their doubts and \nerrors, and became, like Sir William himself, \nnot only almost, but altogether Christians.\'^ \n\nIn the third volume of his " Asiatic Jte- \nsearches/^ he gives us this valuable testimony \nin regard to the Scriptures : \xe2\x80\x94 " Theological in- \nquiries are no part of my present subject ; but \nI cannot refrain from adding, that the collect \n\n\n\nWILLIAM JONES. 77 \n\ntion of tracts, wliich we call from their excel- \nlence the Scriptures, contain, independently of \na divine origin, more true sublimity, more ex- \nquisite beauty, pure morality, more important \nhistory, and finer strains both of poetry and \neloquence than could be collected within the \nsame compass from all other books that were \never composed in any age or in any idiom. \nThe two parts of which the Scriptures consist, \nare connected by a chain of compositions, \nwhich bear no resemblance in form or style to \nany that can be produced from the stores of \nGrecian, Indian, Persian, or even Arabian \nlearning. The antiquity of those compositions \nno man doubts ; and the unstrained applica- \ntion of them to events long subsequent to \ntheir publication is a solid ground of belief, \nthat they Avere genuine predictions, and con- \nsequently inspired.^^ \n\nThe last hour of the life of this illustrious \ncharacter was marked by a solemn act of de- \nvotion. \'\'Finding his dissolution rapidly aj)- \nproacliing, he desired liis attendants to carry \nhim into an inner apartment, where, at his \ndesire, they left him. Eeturning after a short \ninterval, they ibund him in a kneeling pos- \nture, with his liands clasjied, and liis eyes \nfixed towards lioaven. As they were remov- \ning him lie expired.\'^ \n\n\n\n78 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\n\n\nJOHN SELDEK \n\nJohn Selden, a native of Sussex, England, \nwas born in 1584. He is one of those men \nwhose memory the learned and the great have \ndelighted to honour. A short notice in a Bio- \ngraphical Dictionary says of him : \xe2\x80\x94 " As a \nscholar Selden ranks very high. He was not \nonly skilled in the Hebrew and oriental lan- \nguages, but he was acquainted with all laws, \ndivine and human, and in the stores of a most \nretentive memory he had treasured up what- \never is valuable, interesting, and important, \nin ancient and modern literature.^^ White- \nlock says of him : \xe2\x80\x94 " His mind was as great \nas his learning, and he w^as as hospitable and \nas generous as any man.\'\' Clarendon has ob- \nserved: ^^ He was a person whom no character \ncan flatter, or transmit in any expressions \nequal to his merit and virtue.\'\' And the great \nGrotius has styled him *\' The glory of the \nEnglish nation." \n\nThis celebrated man was an intimate friend \nof Sir Matthew Hale, who often stated to \nBaxter, that Selden was a \'\' resolved, serious \nChristian." \n\nIn a conference with Archbishop Usher, \nwlien he was near tlie end of his days, after \n\n\n\n.JAMEvS GAKDINEK. 79 \n\nhaving taken a survey of all kinds of learn- \ning*, and having read as much perhaps as any \nman ever did, Selden declared, that \'\' though \nhe had been very laborious in his literary in- \nquiries, and had possessed himself of a great \nnumber of valuable books and manuscripts \nupon all ancient subjects, yet he could rest \nthe happiness of his soul on none of them, ex- \ncept the Holy Scriptures.\'^ Well has Simp- \nson said, " This is a perfect eulogium on the \nsacred volume/\' \n\n\n\nJAMES GARDINER. \n\nJames Gardiner was a native of Scotland, \nand born in the year 1G88. His mother, witli \ngreat tendqrness and solicitude for his future \nhappiness, instructed him in the principles of \nChristianity ; but he early engaged in a mili- \ntary life, and for many years appears to have \ndevoted himself to sensual pursuits. At the \nnge of thirty-one, liowever, lie experienced tlie \nconverting grace of God, when he reformed \nthe licentious conduct of his youth, and lived \never afterwards in habits of tlie most correct \nmorals and of the most undisguised ])iety. \n\nDr. Doddridge has written the life of this \nextraordinary man. How he passed that ])or- \ntion of liis life devoted to sensualil v and vi(.*r, \n\n\n\n80 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nmay be inferred from the following quotation : \n" His firm constitution, tlian perhaps there \nhardly ever was a better, gave him great op- \nportunities of indulging in excess ; and his \ngood spirits enabled him to pursue his plea- \nsures of every kind, in so alert and sprightly \na manner, that multitudes envied him, and \ncalled him by a dreadful kind of compliment, \nThe Happy Rake. Yet still the checks of \nconscience, and some remaining principles of \nso good an education as he had received, would \nbreak in u^pon his most licentious hours ; and \nI particularly remember he told me, that when \nsome of his dissolute companions were congra- \ntulating him on his distinguished felicity, a \ndog happening at that time to come into the \nroom, he could not forbear groaning inwardly, \nand saying to himself, that I were that dog ! \nSuch was then his happiness ! and such per- \nhaps is that of hundreds more, who bear them- \nselves highest in contempt of religion, and \nglory in that infamous servitude which they \ncall liberty/^ \n\nOf the nature of Colonel Gardiner\'s piety, \nmuch may be inferred from the following \nquotation : " He used constantly to rise at \nfour o\'clock in the morning, and to spend his \ntime till six in tlie secret exercises of devo- \ntion, reading, meditation, and prayer ; in \n\n\n\nJAMES GARDINER. 81 \n\nwliicli last he contracted such a fervency of \nspirit, as I believe few men living ever at- \ntained. This certainly tended very much to \nstrengthen that firm faitli in God, and reve- \nrent, animating sense of his presence, for \nwhich he was so eminently remarkable, and \nwhich carried him through the trials and \nvicissitudes of life, with such steadiness and \nwith such activity ; for he endured and acted \nas always \' seeing Him who is invisible/ If at \nany time he was obliged to go out before six \nin the morning, he rose proportionably sooner ; \nso that when a journey or a march has re- \nquired him to be on horseback by four, he \nwould be at his devotions at farthest by two. \nHe likewise secured time for retirement in the \nevening." \n\nTo the pious reader, the following extracts \nfrom his private correspondence, cannot fail to \nbe interesting. In a letter to his wife, occurs \nthe following : \xe2\x80\x94 " ! how ought we to long \nto be with Christ ; which is infinitely better \nthan anything we can propose here ! to be \nthere where all complaints shall be forever \nbanished \xe2\x80\x94 where no mountains shall separate \nbetween God and our souls ! And I hope it \nwill be some addition to our happiness, that \nyou and I shall be separated no more ; but \nthat, as we have joined in singing the praises \n\n\n\n82 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nof our glorious Eedeemer here, we shall sing \nthem in a much higher strain through an end- \nless eternity/^ , \n\nOn another occasion he writes thus : \xe2\x80\x94 \n** What would I have given this day, uj)on \nthe road, for paper, pen, and ink, when the \nSpirit of the Most High rested upon me ! O I \nfor the pen of a ready writer, and the tongue \nof an angel, to declare what God has done \nthis day for my soul ! But in short it is in \nvain to attempt it ; all that I am able to say, \nis only this, that my soul has been for some \nhours joining with the blessed spirits above, \nin giving glory, and honour, and praise, unto \nHim that sitteth upon the throne, and to the \nLamb forever and ever/^* \n\n\n\nGEORGE WASHINGTON \n\nOf Washington as a warrior or a statesman \nnothing need be said. I shall refer to him \nonly as a Christian ; and though we may find \nhis piety of a somewhat-different stamp from \nthat of the subject of my last sketch, yet it is \n\n\xe2\x96\xa0\xe2\x80\xa2\xe2\x80\xa2 See tlie little work, entitled, " Some remarkable \nPassages in tlie Life of Colonel James Gardiner,^^ by Dr. \nDoddridge. This volume is specially commended to \nsuch as would see personal accomplishments, sound un- \nderstanding, and the multiplied engagements of a pub- \nlic life, combined with distinguished piety. \n\n\n\nGEORGE WASHINGTON. 83 \n\nbelieved the conclusion will be equally irre- \nsistible, that he was really pious. I am not \nabout to contend for the perfection of the \nChristian character in him, nor to hold him up \nas a perfect model of Christian piety. On tliis \nsubject, however, it has been well said, " That \nfew men have been placed in circumstances \nmore unfriendly to the cultivation of Chris- \ntian virtues, \xe2\x80\x94 circumstances which, duly con- \nsidered, will render it more a matter of won- \nder that he should have been what he was, \nrather than that he should fail to be what he \nwas not. Much of his life was spent amidst \nthe confusion of camps and the contentions of \ncabinets. He Avas, early in life, thrown upon \nhis own resources, and usually surrounded by \npersons having little regard for religion, and \nindeed hostile to it, as an intruder on their \nbeloved pleasures and chosen occupations. \nAnd we are constrained to add, that the \nChurch herself did not in every instance then \nimpart that effectual aid to her members, \nwhich the most pious and established of them \nfind necessary, in every age, to their spiritual \ncomfort and edification. The day in which he \nlived was a dark one, religiously considered, \nand by no means distinguished for sucli pub- \nlic ministrations as prove most ])owerful to \npurify tlio lioart and reform tlie life. To \n\n\n\n84 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nthese unfavourable accidents should be added \nthe consideration of the closing years of his \nlife being spent in the midst of a triumphant \nand reigning infidelity/^ Allusion is here \nmade to the pretended offspring of philosophy \nand handmaid of liborty, which, originating \nin France, found many votaries among the \ngreat and learned of our own country. \n\nTo these considerations should be added, \nthat he was, during nearly his whole life, sur- \nrounded by such as had no interest in report- \ning the evidences of his piety ; and that during \nhis last short sickness, circumstances forbade \nthe visitation of clergymen, while the physi- \ncians who attended him were irreligious. We \nhave then but little to look to in evidence of \nhis piety, but to his general character, and to \nsome interesting circumstances which have \nbeen incidentally preserved. To some of these \nevidences I will briefly refer. \n\n1. It is admitted on all hands, that his \nwhole life was but an exhibition of patriotism, \ndisinterestedness, integrity, consistency, and \ntruth, and of those high and excellent virtues, \npublic, private, and social, which adorn even \nthe Christian character. I unhesitatingly join \nwith those who have concluded, that mere un- \naided human nature never exhibited su(\xc2\xbbli \nsingular traits of goodness. \n\n\n\nGEORGE AVASHl^dTOX. 86 \n\n2. It is well known, that as a commandor \nho discouraged, by every means in his power, \nboth among the soldiers and his fellow-ofBcers, \nevery species of immorality, such as profane \nswearing, gambling, and drunkenness, and \nthat he entertained to the practice of duelling \nthe most settled hostility. \n\n3. There is abundant evidence furnished in \nliis letters and other writings, that his re- \nligious creed was in accordance with that of \nthe evangelical Churches of our country and \nof the world. In a letter to the State gover- \nnors he speaks of \'^ the pure and benign light \nof revelation," and refers them to " that hu- \nmility and pacific temper of mind which were \nthe characteristics of the Divine AutJior of our \nblessed religion^ and Avithout an humble imita- \ntion of whose example in these things, we can \nnever hope to be a happy nation." \n\n4. During his whole life, public and private, \nhe was a scrupulous observer of the Sabbath, \nand an attendant on all the usual public means \nof grace. When at Mount Vernon, though \nnine miles from a place of w^orship, even in his \nold age he was seldom absent. AVhile Presi- \ndent of the United States, his attendance at \nchurch was uniform, and he would not receive \ncompany on the Sabbath. During his mili- \ntary life, and even when in command of the \n\n\n\n86 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nAmerican army, lie ahvays observed the Sab- \nbatlij and as far as possible had religious \nservices performed in camp; and when that \nconld not be, himself nsually rode out to some \nneighbouring church. Changes of time, place, \nand fortune, seem to leave him the same. In \nthe French and Indian war, we find him \n*\' performing divine service with his regiment, \nreading the Scriptures, and praying with \nthem when no chaplain could be had,\'^ and \neven " reading the funeral service over the re- \nmains of General Braddock, by the light of a \ntorch,\'^ and on the day succeeding the sur- \nrender of Lord Cornwallis, issuing a general \norder that " divine service be performed to- \nmorrow in the different brigades and divi- \nsions,^^ and recommending its appropriate ob- \nservance by considerations drawn from re- \nligion. \n\n5. There is satisfactory evidence that he \nwas accustomed to partake of the Lord\'s sup- \nper, both at the church where he usually at- \ntended and at other places where he chanced \nto attend worship, even when in command of \nthe army. \n\n6. He observed, religiously, days set apart \nby public authority for humiliation, fasting \nand prayer. In June, 1774, on such an occa- \nsion, he \'\' attended church, and fasted all dav.^\' \n\n\n\n(GEORGE WASHINGTON. 87 \n\n7. He was f*amiliar witli the Holy Scrip- \ntures ; and there is most conclusive evidence, \nthat he was very uniform in his attendance on \nthe duty of private prayer. This was observed \nby him in the camp, not less than in the \nquietude of retired life. \n\n8. Washington died the death of a Christian. \nFirst. Though he believed from the commence- \nment of the attack that he should not recover, \nhe was perfectly self-collected, arranged his \naffairs with entire composure of mind, and at \nno time betrayed any other feeling than that \nof resignation to the divine will and pleasure. \nSecondly. Though his sufferings were great, lie \nendured them with the most perfect patience \nand resignation, only remarking, as he did \nonce or twice, "I should have been glad, had \nit pleased God, to die a little easier, but I \ndoubt not it is for my good.\'\' Thirdly. \n\'\' Some hours before his departure, he made \nrequest that every person should leave tlie \nroom, that he miglit be alone for a short \ntime.\'\' This request, considered in connexion \nwith his long-continued habit of private prayer, \nis full of important meaning. Fourthly. Death \nitself to him had no terrors. \'\' Doctor," said \nhe, a short time before he expired, " I die hard, \nbut I am not afraid to die ;" and the same \nwriter, one of the tlien rectors of Mount Ver- \n\n\n\n88 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nnon parish, says, tliat in the moment of death, \n"\xe2\x80\xa2 he closed his eyes for the last time with his \nown hands, folded his arms decently on his \nbreast, then breathing out, \' Father of mercies, \ntake me to thyself^ he fell asleep/^ \n\nIt is in view of such evidence that we find \nthe following tribute, in the Encyclopaedia of \nReligious Knowledge : \xe2\x80\x94 \n\n" History furnishes no parallel to the cha- \nracter of Washington. He stands on an un- \napproached eminence, distinguished almost \nbeyond humanity for self-command, intre- \npidity, soundness of judgment, rectitude of \npurpose, and deep, ever-active piety. Wash- \nington Avas a man of prayer. His exalted \ncharacter was formed under the influence of \nChristian principles. ^^ \n\nNot less honourable is the testimony of an \nEnglish writer, who says : " Washington was \nlately a living character, and generally al- \nlowed to be one of the first warriors, the first \nof politicians, and the worthiest of men. This \nsame gentleman is the delight of \' an admir- \ning and astonished world,\' and yet \xe2\x80\x94 hear it, \nOye minute philosoj)hers of degenerate Europe \n\xe2\x80\x94 he was a Christian.\'^ \n\n\n\nREVOLUTIONARY OFFICERS. 89 \n\nAt almost every step in the drawing up of \nthese sketches a difficulty presents itself. Not \nonly do the young and inexperienced seem to \nbe under the delusion, that there is some in- \ncongruity between the principles of Christian- \nity and the sterner duties of life, but the same \ninfatuation seems to have seized on those who \nhave written the biographies of our great men. \nWhile every other excellence of their charac- \nter is set in strong relief, and even the per- \nsonal appearance minutely described, their \nreligioiis clim^acter \xe2\x80\x94 that on which they set their \nliighest value, and that which was the basis \nof every other excellence which they possessed \n\xe2\x80\x94 is passed over by a single word, or perhaps \na mere allusion, or, it may be, left in doubt. \nThis is particularly apt to be the case when \nreference is made to our military or naval \nofficers ; as though indeed these could not be \nChristians. Let the lives of Colonel Gardiner \nand of Washington set this question forever at \nrest, as regards men engaged in military pur- \nsuits. But Washington stands not alone among \nour revolutionary heroes. Many of tliem were \nas distinguished for their piety as for their \npatriotism. \n\n\n\n90 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\n\n\nCOLONEL TIMOTHY PICKERING, \n\nAmong the first and the bravest in resistance \nof British aggression, was a Christian. " The \nBible was the object of his habitual study and \nmeditation, and the religion which he had ex- \namined and professed in his early manhood \nreceived his obedience and support through \na long life, and was found an all-sufficient \nsource of comfort, resignation, peace, and sa- \ntisfaction, on the bed of death.^^ \n\n\n\nCOLONEL ISAAC SHELBY, \n\nA NATIVE of Maryland, who led on many a \nhard-fought battle in our Eevolution, and \nwhose gallantry and patriotism in our last \nwar were acknowledged not only by his su- \nperior officer, but by resolution in the legisla- \nture of Kentucky, and by a vote of thanks \nfrom congress, awarding a gold medal as a \ntestimony of its sense of his illustrious services, \nwas a Christian. " In the vigour of life, he \nhad dedicated himself to God, and sought an \ninterest in the merits of the Eedeemer. He \nwas for many years a member of the Presby- \nterian Church, and in his latter days he was \n\n\n\nJOHIS\' BROOKS. 91 \n\nthe chief instrument in erecting a house of \nworship on his own land.\'^ \n\n\n\nMAJOR-GEXERAL BENJAMIN LINCOLN, \n\nA NATIVE of Massachusetts, but whose distin- \nguished military talents led congress to ap- \npoint him to the command of the Southern \narmy in 1778, \'^was a practical and rational \nChristian from his childhood up, and to his \npractice joined also the profession of his princi- \nples, being, during most of his life, a com- \nmunicant, and for many years a deacon in the \nChurch where he worshipped. Amidst all the \nlicentiousness of the army, no stain came upon \nhis character, and no impurity fell from his \nlips.\'^ \n\nMAJOR-GENERAL JOHN BROOKS, \n\nOf Massachusetts, afterwards governor of tliat \nState, \'^ was a Christian in the best sense of \nthe word ; in heart, in principle, in action \npenetrated with the influence of the gospel. \nHe paid throughout life undeviating respect \nto the sacred offices of religion, and died con- \nsoled with its hopes, in possession of his rea- \nson to the last.\'^ \n\n\n\n92 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPIiy. \n\n\n\nBRIGADIER-aEjVTERAL ELIEZER BROOKS, \n\nDistinguished among tlie heroes of White \nPlains, ^^ was a firm believer in the doctrines \nof Christianity, and in his advanced years ac- \ncepted the office of deacon in the Church at \nLincoln, Mass. This office he ranked above \nall others which he had sustained in life/^ \n\n\n\nGENERAL MATTHEW CLARKSON, \n\nOne of the heroes of vStillwater, was ** amia- \nble, frank, aftectionate, pure, and beneficent; \nand his character was crowned by an exalted \npiety/\' \n\n\n\nISAAC NEWTON. 93 \n\n\n\nCHAPTER III. \n\nSIR ISAAC NEWTON DR. DAVID RITTENHOUSE \xe2\x80\x94 ORICHTON \n\nBARATIER PASCAL GROTIUS HORROX GASSENDI \n\nJOHN JANEWAY \xe2\x80\x94 JAMES BRAINERD TAYLOR, \n\nISAAC NEWTON. \n\nIsaac Newton was born in Lincolnshire, Eng- \nland, 1642. He has been pronounced "a \nmost celebrated philosopher and mathemati- \ncian, and one of the greatest geniuses that \never appeared in the world. ^\' At the age of \neighteen he entered Trinity College ; and at \ntwenty-two made his discovery of a new me- \nthod of infinite series and fluxions. In 1669, \nhe was elected to the mathematical chair at \nCambridge ; and in 1687 published his Prin- \neipia, which performance has set his name \nabove all the philosophers of both ancient and \nmodern times. In 1703, he was elected presi- \ndent of the Eoyal Society ; and for twenty- \nfive years, till the day of his death, adorned \nthe chair of that learned body. In 1705 lie \nwas knighted by Queen Anne, by whom, as \nwell as by George I., he was greatly favoured. \nHis powers of mind were wonderfully com- \nprehensive and penetrating. Fontenelle says \nof him, \'\' that in learning mathematics, he \n\n\n\n94 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\ndid not study Euclid, who ^seemed to him too \nplain and simple, and unworthy of taking up \nhis time. He understood him almost before \nhe read him ; a cast of his eye on the contents \nof the theorems of that great mathematician, \nseemed to be sufficient to make him master \nof them.\'^ Thomas Dick says : \xe2\x80\x94 " Sir Isaac \nNewton, the fame of whose genius has ex- \ntended over the whole civilized world, made \nhis discoveries in geometry and fluxions, \nand laid the foundation of his two celebrated \nworks, his Principia and Optics, by the time \nhe was twenty-four years of age ; and yet \nthese works contain so many abstract, pro- \nfound, and sublime truths, that only the flrst- \nrate mathematicians are qualified to under- \nstand and appreciate them.\'^ The same wri- \nter adds : " Amidst all the sublime investiga- \ntions of physical and mathematical science in \nwhich he engaged, and amidst the variety of \nbooks he had constantly before him, the Bible \nwas that which he studied with the greatest \napplication ; and his meekness and modesty \nwere no less admirable than the variety and \nextent of his intellectual acquirements.\'^ \nBishop Watson says : " Newton accounted the \nScriptures the most sublime philosophy ; and \nnever mentioned the word \xe2\x80\x94 God \xe2\x80\x94 but with a \npause.\'\' \n\n\n\nISAAC JS\'EWTON. 95 \n\nA biographer says : *^ To his other great \nqualities, he added the virtues of piety, and \nreligious infidelity he marked with abhor- \nrence ; no remark of levity or indifference on \nthe powers of the Deity, or on revelation, ever \nwas made in his presence without drawing \nfrom him the severest censure ; and while he \nmade the Bible his favourite study, he em- \nployed some portion of his time in proving the \ngreat truths of the prophetical writers of \nScripture/^ His readiness to rebuke impiety \nis illustrated in his Life, as given us by Dr. \nBrewster : " Immorality and impiety he never \npermitted to pass unreproved; and when Dr. \nHalley ventured to say anything disrespect- \nful to religion, he invariably checked him, \nand said, " I have studied these things \xe2\x80\x94 you \nhave nof \n\nPermit me to add the testimony of the pious \nand learned Dr. Doddridge, to this, the most \ninteresting part of this great man\'s charac- \nter. " According to the best information/\' \nsays he, " whether public or private, I could \never obtain, his firm faith in the divine re- \nvelation, discovered itself in the most genuine \nfruits of substantial virtue and piety ; and \nconsequently gives us the justest reason to \nconclude that he is now rejoicing in tlie happy \neffects of it infinitely more than in all the ap- \n\n\n\n96 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nplause which his philosophical works have \nproduced him, though they have commanded \na fame lasting as the world/ ^ \n\n\n\nDAVID RITTEKHOUSE. \n\nOf whose life can a sketch more properly be \nmade to follow that of Sir Isaac Newton, than \nof our own Rittenhouse ? For the character \nand works of Newton he cherished the highest \nveneration ; and in his modest and unassum- \ning character, as well as in his wonderful in- \ntellectual powers, he strikingly resembled \nhim. \n\nDavid Eittenhouse was born near German- \ntown, Penn., April 8, 1732 ; and was designed \nby his father for the occupation of a husband- \nman. In Norristown, Avhich early became his \nresidence, there were no schools at Avhich any- \nthing more was taught than reading and \nwriting in the English language and the \nsimplest rules of arithmetic. Beyond these \nacquisitions he was self-taught. \n\nMathematics, astronomy, and optics, were \namong his earliest pursuits, accompanied by \na most extraordinary development of me- \nchanical skill. He succeeded in obtaining \nthe use of some books ; and he early made \nhimself master of Sir Isaac Newton\'s Prinei- \n\n\n\nDAVID RITTENII0U8E. 97 \n\npia, through the medium of Mott\\s transla- \ntion, and studied the science of fluxions ; of \nthis invention he conceived himself at first to \nbe the author, nor was he undeceived for some \nyears, when he ascertained that a conte\'st had \nbeen carried on between Sir Isaac Newton and \nLeibnitz, for the honour of the discovery. On \nthis Dr. Eush remarks : \xe2\x80\x94 " What a mind was \nhere ! without literary friends or society, and \nwith but two or three books, he became, be- \nfore he reached his twenty-fourth year, the \nrival of the two greatest mathematicians in \nEurope V\' \n\nA time-piece, a thermometer, and an orrery, \nall of wonderful ingenuity, and of exquisite \nworkmanship, were successively produced by \nhim. \n\nIn 1769, he calculated and observed the \ntransit of Venus, \xe2\x80\x94 a phenomenon which had \nbeen observed but twice before since the crea- \ntion of the Avorld, and which none then living \ncould ever witness again. The astronomers \nof Europe had to depend on the observations \nmade in America ; and those of Eittenhouse \nwere received with great favour by the whole \nphilosophical world. Mr. Ludlam, one of the \nvico-pvesidents of the Philosophical Society of \nLondon, and an eminent astronomer, tlius \n\nwrites : ^\' No astronomers could better de- \n\n7 \n\n\n\n98 christia:; liography. \n\nserve all possible encouragement, whether \nwe consider their care and diligence in mak- \ning their observations, their fidelity in relat- \ning what was done, or the clearness and ac- \ncuracy of their reasoning on this curious and \ndifiicult subject; The more I read the trans- \nactions of your society, (the American Philo- \nsophical,) the more I honour and esteem the \nmembers of it. There is not another society \nin the world, that can boast of a member such as \nMr. Eittenhouse.\'^ Dr. Maskelyne, astro- \nnomer royal at Greenwich, and the Swedish \nastronomers, bore a similar testimony. His \nobservations on a comet which made its ap- \npearance the next year, attracted nearly equal \nattention. \n\n" Though so ardently attached to the study \nof his choice,\'^ says the author of a biographi- \ncal sketch in the National Portrait Gallery, \n\'^ he had paid attention to theology, and was \nwell acquainted with practical metaphysics ; \na great reader, a musician, and a poet ; had \nacquired an intimate knowledge of the French, \nGerman, and Dutch languages, in which he \ntook great delight to peruse the works of the \nlearned of those countries. His name was \nknown and revered in every place where \nscience was respected. Wherever he went he \nwas honoured.\'^ \n\n\n\nDAVID RITTENHOUSE. 99 \n\nIn 1771, Mr. Eittenhouse was elected one \nof the secretaries of the American Philosophi- \ncal Society. In 1789, the honorary degree of \ndoctor of laws was conferred upon him by \nthe College of New Jersey ; and in 1791, on \nthe death of Dr. Franklin, he was elected \nPresident of the American Philosophical So- \nciety. The next year, he was elected a mem- \nber of the American Academy of Sciences at \nBoston ; and in 1795, a member of the Eoyal \nSociety of London. This honour had been \npreviously conferred upon only three or four \nAmericans. \n\nSuch was Dr. Eittenhouse ; and such the \nproud eminence in the world of letters, to \nwhich he had raised himself. \n\nThe members of his family were mostly of \nthe Society of Friends ; and Dr. Eittenhouse \nnever attached himself to any particular \nChurch. In a conversation with the Eev. Dr. \nSproat, a short time before his death, he de- \nclared that ^*he could with truth say, that \never since he had examined Christianity and \nthought upon the subject, he was a firm be- \nliever in it ; and that he expected salvation \nonly in the way of the gospel.\'^ \n\nThe biographical sketch before referred to \nsays : " Eittenhouse was not only practically \na Christian, but he believed empluiticnllv in \n\n\n\n100 CHRISTIAN BIOGKAPHY. \n\nthe Christian revelation ; forming another \ntriumph ^over the vague assertion that men of \ngenius are unbelievers. Newton and Eitten- \nhouse will outweigh a host of thoughtless \nblasphemers/^ And an English writer thus \nintroduces a quotation from Dr. Eush : *^ One \nof the most extraordinary philosophers of the \npresent age was the late David Eittenhouse, \nof America. Dr. Eush, of Philadelphia, who \nis himself an able philosopher and a deter- \nmined Christian, observes very justly, when \nspeaking of the decease of Eittenhouse, who \nleft our world January 26, 1796, that it is no \nsmall triumph to the friends of revelation to \nobserve, in this age of infidelity, that our reli- \ngion has been admitted, and even defended, \nby men of the most exalted understanding, \nand of the strongest reasoning powers. The \nsingle testimony of David Eittenhouse in its \nfavour outweighs the declamations of Avhole \nnations against it.\'^ \n\nThe idea that philosophy is at variance \nAvith religion can only be the result of the \nmost consummate ignorance. Let him who \ndoubts this, make it a subject of investigation. \n\n\n\nJAMES CRICHTON. 101 \n\n\n\nJAMES CRICHTOK \n\n\n\nIn " Dick\'s Philosophy of a Future State/\' he \nhas selected, as examples of the vigour and \ncomprehension of the human faculties, and as \nillustrating the variety and extent of the ac- \nquisitions of which the human mind is capa- \nble, the names of Pascal, Grotius, Crichton, \nGassendi, Horrox, Newton, and Baratier. \nThese seem to have been selected purely with \nreference to the possession of great mental \npower, without any regard to their religious \nor moral character. I purpose to inquire \nhow these mighty minds \xe2\x80\x94 the ornaments of \nthe intellectual world \xe2\x80\x94 have treated the \nclaims of Christianity. Of one of these, New- \nton, I have already furnished a sketch. New- \nton was a Christian. \n\nJames Crichton, always known in conse- \nquence of his distinguished endowments, by \nthe designation of the Admirable Crichton, \nwas a Scotchman of the sixteenth century. \nThe year of his birth is not known. He was \neducated at Perth and at the University of St. \nAndrews, where he made such wonderful pro- \ngress, that at the age of twenty, he had run \nthrough the whole circle of the sciences, as \nthey were then understood, and could write \n\n\n\n102 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nand speak to perfection ten different lan- \nguages/ Thus gifted with mental endow- \nments, and aided by all the advantages of a \ngraceful person, elegant manners, and polite \naccomplishments, he travelled to Paris, where \nhe publicly challenged the most renowned \nscholars, to dispute with him in any art or \nscience while they pleased, and in twelve dif- \nferent languages. On the appointed day, he \nappeared at the college of Navarre, and from \nnine in the morning till six in the evening, \nhe so defeated his opponents, and astonished \nhis auditors, that the president, in admiration, \nwith four of the most eminent professors of the \nuniversity, presented him with a diamond \nring, and a purse of gold, as a token of their \napprobation. At Eome, at Venice, at Padua, \nand at Mantua, he attracted equal admiration. \nAt Mantua, he died by violence ; and may be \nsaid to have lived to no very important pur- \npose, but to show the world a specimen of vast \nbut unsanctified intellectual power. \n\n\n\nJOHN PHILIP BARATIEK \n\nJohn Philip Baratier, was born January \n19, 1721, at Schwabach, and is justly consid- \nered a prodigy of learning and genius. *\' At \nthe age of five,\'\' says Mr. Dick, " he under- \n\n\n\nJOHN PHILIP BARATIER. 1(J3 \n\nstood the Greek, Latin, German, and French \nlanguages ; at the age of nine, he could trans- \nlate any part of the Hebrew Scriptures into \nLatin, and could repeat the whole Hebrew \nPsalter ; and before he had completed his \ntenth year, he drew up a Hebrew lexicon of \nuncommon and difficult words, to which he \nadded many curious critical remarks. In his \nthirteenth year he published, in two volumes \noctavo, a translation from the Hebrew of \nEabbi Benj amines " Travels in Europe, Asia, \nand Africa,\'^ with historical and critical notes \nand dissertations ; the whole of which he com- \npleted in four months. In the midst of these \nstudies, he prosecuted philosophical and ma- \nthematical pursuits, and in his fourteenth \nyear, invented a method of discovering the \nlongitude at sea, which exhibited the strongest \nmarks of superior abilities. ^^ In his thirteenth \nyear, he was offered, by the university of Halle, \nthe degree of M. A. With a constitution na- \nturally delicate, he could not long endure the \nexcessive application of so gigantic a mind. \nHe died at Halle in his twentieth year. \n\nThe only reference I can now meet with to \nhis moral habits is found in the following: \nshort passage : \xe2\x80\x94 \n\n" In his domestic economy he was very tem- \nperate; he ate little flesh, lived totally on \n\n\n\n104 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nmilk, tea, bread, and fruit ; he disliked wine ; \nhe had an aversion to dancing, music, and the \nsports of the field, so that he wished for no \nrecreation from study hut in walking, or in \nthe conversation of a few friends, whom he \nloved and courted with all the openness and \nunreserved gayety of a generouis heart." \n\nThe writer of these sketches has no other \nevidence than is here presented, that either of \nthese men was practically pious. Baratier, \nhowever, may have been as pious as any of \nthe learned men of his day ; and Crichton \nlived in an age of great moral darkness. \n\n\n\nBLAISE PASCAL. \n\nPascal was born at Clermont, in the province \nof Auvergne, 19th June, 1623. He was de- \nscended from one of the best families in that \nprovince. Young Pascal from his infancy dis- \nplayed extraordinary abilities ; he inquired \ninto the reasons and causes of everything, and \nnever was satisfied but with what appeared \nmost probable and rational. His father, \nthough an excellent scholar and an able \nmathematician, studiously kept from his son \nall mathematical books, that his attention \nmight be confined to belles lettres and classi- \ncal knowledge. Before he had attained his \n\n\n\nBLAISE PASCAL. 105 \n\ntwelfth year, however, and while immersed in \nthe study of languages, without books and \nAvithout an instructor he discovered and de- \nmonstrated most of the propositions in the \nfirst book of Euclid, before he knew that such \na book was in existence, to the astonishment \nof every mathematician ; so that, at that early \nage, he was an inventor of geometrical science. \nAt the age of sixteen he composed a treatise \non Conic Sections, which, in the judgment of \nmen of the greatest abilities, was viewed as an \nastonishing effort of the human mind, and was \nby Des Cartes attributed to the labours of the \nfather, and not to the son. At nineteen years \nof age he contrived an arithmetical machine, \nmuch admired for its ingenuity ; and at twenty- \nthree he saw, corrected, and improved the \nTorricellian experiments ; and soon after solved \na problem, proposed by Mersennus, which had \nhitherto perplexed the ablest mathematicians \nof Europe. By the age of twenty-four he had \nacquired a proficiency in almost every branch \nof human knowledge, " when,^^ says Mr. Dick, \n" his mind became entirely absorbed in the \nexercises of religion. ^^ \n\nPascal has been spoken of as " perhaps the \nmost brilliant intellect that ever lighted on \nthis lower world,^^ and yet we thus see him at \nthe age of twenty-four, in the language of his \n\n\n\n/- \n\n\n\n106 CHRISTIAN BIOGEAPHY. \n\nbiographer, " in the midst of his increasing \nreputation, all at once renouncing literary and \nmathematical pursuits for religion ; and after \nbeing one of the greatest of philosophers, be- \ncoming one of the most humble and penitent \nof devotees/\' \n\nThe celebrated Boyle, speaking of this dis- \ntinguished person, says : ^\' A hundred volumes \nof religious discourses are not of so much avail \nto confound the impious, as a simple account \nof the life of Pascal. His humility and his \ndevotion mortify the libertines more than if \nthey were attacked by a dozen missionaries. \nThey can no longer assert that piety is confined \nto men of little minds, when they behold the \nhighest degree of it in a geometrician of the \nfirst rank, the most acute metaphysician, and \none of the most penetrating minds that ever \nexisted.^\' \n\nThe idea seems almost to have become \ngeneral, that it is a mark of great sagacity or \npenetration to entertain sceptical views of re- \nligion. The strange error has gone every- \nwhere abroad among the unthinking, that to \nbe a philosopher one must be a sceptic ; on \nthe contrary, I do not hesitate to assert that \nfor one who has been instructed in the Bible \nand in the principles of religion to entertain \nserious doubts of the inspiration of the one, or \n\n\n\nBLAISE PASCAL. 107 \n\nthe truth and the excellency of the other, fur- \nnishes proof positive either of the depravity \nof his heart or of the weakness of his intellect. \nPascal, with a mind wonderfully comprehen- \nsive and sagacious, entertained the most ex- \nalted sentiments of the Christian religion, and \nnever had the least doubt of its divine authority. \n\nThis information we have from his biogra- \npher, who knew him well, and Avho says, ^\' that \nby the instructions and example of his father \ngreat reverence for religion was early im- \npressed upon his mind, and continued with \nhim through life, and that he was always in a \nhigh degree opposed to the principles of infi- \ndelity.^\' \n\nTo the pious reader, the following lines, \nfound among his papers after his decease, will \nfurnish a pleasing picture of the mind of this \nextraordinary man : \xe2\x80\x94 \n\n" I respect poverty, because Jesus Christ re- \nspected it. I respect riches, because they fur- \nnish the means of relieving the distressed. I \ndo not return evil to those who have done me \nan injury. I endeavour to be sincere and faith- \nful to all men ; but I have a peculiar tender- \nness towards those with whom God has caused \nme to be intimately connected. Whether I \nam alone or in company, I consider myself as \nin the sight of God, who will judge my actions, \n\n\n\n108 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nand to whom I consecrate tliem all. These \nare my sentiments ; and I daily bless my Ke- \ndeemer, who has impressed them npon me, \nand who, by the operation of his grace, has \ntaken away the concupiscence, pride, ambition, \nand misery, to which I was naturally subject. \nI owe my deliverance to his power and good- \nness, having nothing of myself but imbecility \nand corruption. ^^ \n\nIn Jesuph^s Life of Pascal, it is said : " This \ngreat man, during some of the latter years of \nhis life, spent his whole time in prayer and in \nreading the Holy Scriptures ; and in this he \ntook incredible delight.^\' His last words were \n^\' May God never forsake me !\'^ and he died full \nof peace and hope. \n\n\n\nHUGO GROTIUS. \n\nThis eminent scholar was born at Delft, in \nHolland, in 1583. At the age of thirteen he \ngreatly distinguished himself at the University \nof Ley den. At the age of fourteen he ven- \ntured to form literary plans which required an \namazing extent of knowledge, and he executed \nthem in such perfection that the literary world \nwas struck with astonishment. In his fifteenth \nyear he accompanied the Dutch ambassador \nto Paris, where he w^as received with every \n\n\n\nHUGO GROTIUS. lOfj \n\nmark of kindness by the court, and presented \nby Henry IV. with his picture and a gold \nchain. The University of Paris also paid its \nrespects to this learned youth, and granted \nhim the degree of doctor of laws, before his \nreturn to Holland. At the age of seventeen \nhe entered on the profession of an advocate, \nand pleaded his first cause at Delft, in a man- \nner that acquired for him the greatest reputa- \ntion. He fully sustained the reputation thus \nearly acquired, by a life filled Avith vicissitude, \nand died at the age of sixtj-two. \n\nThe Scriptures were the favourite study of \nGrotius. He always devoted a part of the day \nto them ; and wrote a commentary on both the \nOld and New Testament. He also wrote a \ntreatise on the truth of the Christian religion, \nwhich is well known to the Christian student. \nI will only add the testimony of the Encyclo- \npsedia of Eeligious Knowledge, a work whose \ntestimony is the more valuable as it is cau- \ntiously given : \xe2\x80\x94 \n\n" Grotius was master of all that is wortli \nknowing in sacred and profiane literature. \nThere was no art or science with Avhich lie \nwas not acquainted. He possessed a clear \nhead, an excellent judgment, universal learn- \ning, immense reading, and a sincere, unwaver- \ning love of truth and Christianity.^\' \n\n\n\n110 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\n\n\nJEREMIAH HORROX. \n\n\n\n*\' Jeremiah Horrox, a name celebrated in the \nannals of astronomy, before he attained the \nage of seventeen had acquired, solely by his \nown industry and the help of a few Latin au- \nthors, a most extensive and accurate know- \nledge of astronomy and of the branches of \nmathematical learning connected with it. He \ncomposed astronomical tables for himself, and \ncorrected the errors of the most celebrated \nastronomers of his time. He calculated a tran- \nsit of the planet Venus across the sun\'s disc, \nand was the first of mortals who beheld this \nsingular phenomenon, which is now considered \nof so much importance in astronomical science.\'^ \n\nSuch is the brief account given of this \nyoung astronomer by Mr. Dick. He was born \nabout 1619, near Liverpool; was educated at \nEmanuel College, Cambridge ; and died pre- \nmaturely, to the great loss of science, in \n1640-1, aged twenty-one. His theory of \nlunar motion Nev/ton himself afterwards \nadopted. \n\nA full biography of this distinguished \nyoung man we have not access to, but find \nhim referred to in the Encyclopasdia of lieli- \ngious Knowledge, as \'\'a young and religious \n\n\n\nJEREMIAH HORROX. HI \n\nastronomer/\' To this I add a notice of the \nimportant calculation and discovery made by \nhim, which I find in ^\'Barrett\'s Geography of \nthe Heavens/\' as illustrating both his love of \nscience and his piety to God. \n\n",The tables of Kepler, constructed upon \nthe observations of Tycho Brahe, indicated a \ntransit of Venus in 1631, but none was ob- \nserved. Horrox, without much assistance \nfrom books and instruments, set himself to in- \nquire into the error of the tables, and found \nthat such a phenomenon might be expected to \nhappen in 1639. He repeated his calcula- \ntions during the interval, with all the careful- \nness and enthusiasm of a scholar, ambitious \nof being the first to predict and observe a \ncelestial phenomenon which, from the creation \nof the world, had never been witnessed. Con- \nfident of the result, he communicated his ex- \npected triumph to a confidential friend, resid- \ning in Manchester, and desired him to watch \nfor the event and to take observations. So \nanxious was Horrox not to fail of witnessing \nit himself, that he commenced his observa- \ntions the day before it was expected, and re- \nsumed them at the rising of the sun on the \nmorrow. But the very hour when his calcula- \ntions led him to expect the visible appearance \nof Venus upon the sun\'s disc was also the ap- \n\n\n\n112 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\npointed hour for the public worship of God on \nthe Sabbath. The delay of a few minutes \nmight deprive him forever of the opportunity \nof observing the transit. If its very com- \nmencement were not noticed, clouds might in- \ntervene and conceal it until the sun should \nset, and nearly a century and a half would \nelapse before another opportunity would occur. \nHe had been watching for the event with the \nmost ardent anticipation for eight years, and \nthe result promised much benefit to the cause \nof science. Notwithstanding all this, JSorrox \ntwice suspended his observations, and twice re- \npaired to the house of God, the great Author of \nthe bright worlds he delighted to contemplate. \nWhen his duty was thus performed, and he \nhad returned to his chamber the second time, \nhis love of science was gratified with full suc- \ncess, and he saw what no mortal eye had ob- \nserved before. \n\n\'* If anything can add interest to this inci- \ndent, it is the modesty with which the young \nastronomer apologizes to the world for sus- \npending his observations at all. * I observed \nit,^ says he, * from sunrise till nine oVlock, \nagain a little before ten, and lastly at noon, \nand from one to two o\'clock ; the rest of the \nday being devoted to higher duties, which \nmight not be neglected for these pastimes.^ \'\' \n\n\n\nPETER GASSENDI. 113 \n\n\n\nPETER GASSENDI. \n\nGassendi was a celebrated philosopher of \nFrance, and was born 2 2d January, N. S., \n1592, near Digne, in Provence. At the age \nof four he declaimed little sermons of his own \ncomposition, and even in infancy amused him- \nself by gazing at the moon and stars. At the \nage of seven he spent whole nights in observ- \ning the motions of the heavenly bodies, of \nwhich he acquired at that early age a con- \nsiderable knowledge. The taste for astrono- \nmy, thus early formed, he never relaxed till \nhis reputation became so extensive that in \n1645 he was appointed professor of mathe- \nmatics at Paris. Meantime he had been en- \ngaged in other and various pursuits. At the \nage of sixteen he was professor of rhetoric at \nDigne, and three years after succeeded his \nold master as professor of philosophy at Aix.. \n\nHe wrote the life of Tycho Brahe, with an \naccount of Copernicus, Purhachius, and Pyro \nMontanus. He maintained a public contro- \nversy with Des Cartes, and with Leibnitz ; and \nhis correspondence shows that he was tlie \nfriend of Kepler, Galileo, Kircher, and other \ndistinguished scholars of his day. \n\nMr. Dick himself says : \'\' His vast know- \n\n\n\n114 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nledge of philosophy and mathematics was or- \nnamented by a sincere attachment to the \nChristian religion, and a life formed upon its \nprinciples and precepts ;^^ which is fully sus- \ntained by the notices of biographical dic- \ntionaries. \n\nHaving taken a review of those distinguish- \ned men, selected from the whole world, as spe- \ncimens of vast mental power and of great \nextent of learning, may I not ask the young \nwho have looked over these sketches, to pause? \nLet them contrast these bright names with \nthe sceptics of our day, for they cannot be \ncompared. Philosophy ! half the pretended \nsceptics among us do not know the meaning \nof the word ! Newton accounted " the Scrip- \ntures of God the most sublime philosophy.\'^ \nAnd says the immortal Chillingworth, " Pro- \npose to me anything out of the Bible, and re- \nquire whether I believe it or not, and seem \nit never so incomprehensible to human reason, \nI will subscribe it with hand and heart ; as \nknowing no demonstration can be stronger \nthan this \xe2\x80\x94 God hath said so, therefore it is \ntrue.\'\' This was a part of his philosophy. \nThose who have walked in this light \xe2\x80\x94 the \nlight of the revelation of God \xe2\x80\x94 have lain down \nin peace; but God has said, \'\' Behold, all ye \nthat kindle a fire, that walk in the light of \n\n\n\nJOHN J ANEW AY. 115 \n\nycmr fire, and of tlie sparks that ye have kin- \ndled ; this shall ye have at mine hand \xe2\x80\x94 ye \nshall lie down in sor7vw,^^ And how fearfully \nhas this threat been executed ! \n\n\n\nJOHN JANEWAY. \n\nThere is no scene more full of moral gran- \ndeur, than that which presents the young man \nof talent and mental worth, with the world \nspread out before him, and surrounded by the \nobjects of worldly ambition, devoting himself \nto the cause of religion and of human happi- \nness. There is such a thing as a profession \nof religion from sinister considerations. But \nwho, from early life, retires from the pursuit \nof worldly knowledge and philosophy, and de- \nvotes the energies of a powerful and generous \nmind to the holy duties of religion, and to the \nself-sacrificing work of saving his felloAv-men, \nfrom sinister considerations? Even the un- \nfair spirit of infidelity itself has rarely charged \nsuch a course to any worse influence than that \nof superstition and enthusiasm ; but unfortu- \nnately the spirit of infidelity, after making \nsuch a charge, either refuses to be a witness \nof that scene which tests the strength of these \nprinciples and the foundation of such mon^s \nhopes, and retires from the bed of death, as an \n\n\n\n116 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nunwelcome place, or turns away, \xe2\x80\x94 in the ex- \nercise of that omnipotent power with which \nman is armed to work out his own ruin, \xe2\x80\x94 still \nto disbelieve. \n\nThe ingenuous young man, who is capable \nof appreciating either intellectual or moral \nexcellence, will not refuse to contemplate the \nlife and early death of a scholar. \n\nJohn Janeway was born in the year 1633, \nat Tylly, in Hertfordshire. At the age of \ntwelve years, he had made a considerable pro- \nficiency in mathematical science, and in the \nstudy of astronomy, and other branches of use- \nful learning. At seventeen, he was admitted \nto King\'s College, in Cambridge. At eigh- \nteen, it pleased God to enlighten his under- \nstanding, and to discover to him, that the \nknowledge of his Creator, and the conscious- \nness of an interest in his love, through Jesus \nChrist, was infinitely superior to every attain- \nment and possession of this world. At this \ntime he became sensible that astronomy sur- \nveyed but a molehill, in comparison with the \ngreat object which the religion of Jesus con- \ntemplates. He now became wholly occupied \nwith divine contemplations, and tasted so \nmuch sweetness in the knowledge of Christ, \nthat it was discernible in his very appearance, \nand he "counted everything but dross and \n\n\n\nJOHN JANEWAY. 117 \n\ndung, in comparison of the knowledge of \nChrist and him crucified.^^ Not that he looked \nupon human learning as useless ; but when \nfixed "below Christ, \xe2\x80\x94 not improved for Christ, \nor set in opposition to Christ, \xe2\x80\x94 he looked upon \nwisdom as folly, upon learning as madness, \nand upon genius as a curse, which would make \na man more like the devil, more fit for his \nservice, and put a greater accent upon our \nmisery in another world. \n\nAt the age of twenty, he was admitted a \nfellow of his college. Still, however, he went \non with his religious contemplations, and be- \ncame so mighty in prayer, and other sacred \nexercises, that he seemed to forget the weak- \nness of his body. He studied much, prayed \nmuch, and laboured much in every way he \ncould contrive to be of use to mankind, and \nto promote the honour of the Divine Being. \nSickness came ; and his disorder, which was \nof the consumptive kind, increased rapidly \nupon him, but yet with some intervals of re- \nlief. During the greatest part of his sick- \nness, however, he was so filled with love, and \npeace, and joy, that human language sinks \nunder what he saw and felt ; he talked as if \nhe had been in the third heaven, \xe2\x80\x94 breaking \nout, every now and then, into ecstasies of joy \nand praise. \n\n\n\n118 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nMuch of his language has been preserved. \n\nAbout forty-eight hours before his dissolu- \ntion, he said : \xe2\x80\x94 " Praise is now my work, and \nI shall be engaged in that sweet employment \nforever. Come, let us lift up our voice in \npraise. I have nothing else to do. I have \ndone with prayer, and all other ordinances. I \nhave almost done conversing with mortals. I \nshall presently be beholding Christ himself, \nwho died for me, and loved me, and washed \nme in his blood. I shall, in a few hours, be in \neternity, singing the song of Moses, and the \nsong of the Lamb. I shall presently stand \nupon the mount Sion, with an innumerable \ncompany of angels, and the spirits of just men \nmade perfect, and Jesus the Mediator of the \nnew covenant ! I shall hear the voice of \nmuch people, and be one among them who say \n\xe2\x80\x94 \' Hallelujah ! salvation, glory, and honour, \nand power be unto the Lord our God !^ And \nagain we say. Hallelujah ! Me thinks I stand \nas it were one foot in heaven and the other \non earth. Methinks I hear the melody of \nheaven, and by faith I see the angels waiting \nto carry my soul to the bosom of Jesus, and I \nshall be forever with the Lord in glory. And \nwho can choose but rejoice in all this ?" \n\nIn such a rapturous strain as this he con- \ntinued, full of praise, full of admiration, full \n\n\n\nJAMES BRAINERD TAYLOR. 119 \n\nof joy, till at length, witli abundance of faith \nand fervency, he cried aloud, \xe2\x80\x94 " Amen ! \nAmen V^ and soon after expired. Thus did \nthis favoured and happy spirit take its leave \nof the world. He died in the twenty-fifth \nyear of his age. \n\n\n\nJAMES BRAINERD TAYLOR. \n\nThe strong consolations which are felt by the \nsick and the dying, Avhose minds have become \nenlarged by the contemplation of sacred \nthings, and whose moral feelings by cultiva- \ntion have become equal to the sublimity of \nsuch a scene, Dr. Priestley considers as enthu- \nsiasm. But for the sanction of some such \nnames, who would not exclaim \xe2\x80\x94 0, the stu- \npidity of infidelity ! But is not its stupidity \nthe more apparent in its power which is thus \nexhibited, of totally obscuring the moral vision \nof intelligent and thinking man ? \n\nFrom age to age religion is the same ; and \nfrom age to age shall its effects on the human \nheart be the same. The scene of Christian \ntriumph detailed in the last, occurred near \ntwo centuries since, in England. How simi- \nlar to this, was the closing scene of the life \nof Professor Hubbard, detailed in a former \npart of this work. \n\n\n\n120 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nJames Brainerd Taylor. This excellent \nyoung man was born at Middle Haddam, \nConnecticut, April 15, 1801. His first deep \nimpressions of religion were received from the \nremarks of a brother under his father\'s roof. \nWhen placed as a clerk in the store of a mer- \nchant of New- York, he attended the ministry \nof the Eev. Dr. Eomeyn, and then at the age \nof fifteen first united in the commemoration \nof redeeming love. He soon engaged in the \nwork of Sabbath-school instruction, and by \nevery other method in his power sought to \npromote his Eedeemer^s kingdom upon earth. \nIn May, 1819, he was present at the sailing \nof Dr. Scudder with other missionaries for \nCeylon, and from that time felt that he must \nrenounce the merchant\'s life for the ministe- \nrial life. His friends approving this course, \nhe entered the academy of Lawrenceville, \nNew-Jersey, in 1820, and in November, 1823, \njoined the sophomore class at Nassau Hall. \nHis whole academic life was characterized by \ncommunion with God, zeal in the performance \nof his duties, and unquenchable desires, coupled \nwith untiring efforts, to be useful. Twenty or \nthirty souls, it is believed, were turned to God \nthrough his instrumentality. His example \nalso is a complete solution of the question \xe2\x80\x94 \n\'\' Can a student enjoy religion at college ?\'\' \n\n\n\nJAMES BRAINERD TAYLOR, 121 \n\nHis own language is : ^\' Their walls cannot \nshut out the Lord, and where he is, there is \nheaven. I do not find the obstacles I antici- \npated. My room has been made a Bethel ; \nand I find it is growing better and better, in- \nstead of diminishing. My cup overflows." \nAnd about two years after, he says : " I have \nhad during the last thirteen months the wit- \nnessing of God\'s Spirit with mine that I am \nborn from above, and am travelling towards \nheaven. The fruit of the Spirit has been from \nday to day, love, peace, and joy in the Holy \nGhost." In September, 1826, Mr. Taylor, \nhaving finished his collegiate course, left \nPrinceton for New-Haven, to pursue the study \nof theology. Early in 1827, he was seized \nwith hemorrhage at the lungs. This cutting \noff* his cherished hopes, must have been truly \nbitter, yet such grace was given him, that we \nhear him pronounce it " sweet \xe2\x80\x94 sweet \xe2\x80\x94 sweet, \nbeyond expression." In January, 1829, he \nvisited Georgia for his health ; returned to \nConnecticut apparently better, in the sum- \nmer ; received license from the Middlesex As- \nsociation ; but soon found it necessary to re- \nturn to the South. He died at the Union \nTheological Seminary, in Prince Edward, Vir- \nginia, March 28, 1829 ; not quite twenty-eight \nyears of age, but in full assurance of a glori- \n\n\n\n122 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nous immortality. On liis dying-bed, he re- \nmarked, " that he had endeavoured to live in \nsuch a way, that when he came to die he \nshould have nothing to do but to die.\'^ His \nlast words were, " Strive ! strive \xe2\x80\x94 V^ His friend \ninquiring, \'^ Strive to do what f he added, \n" To enter into the kingdom of heaven.\'^ \nThus was his ruling passion strong in death. \nWhat he exhorted others to be while living, \nwhat he w^as himself, that, though dead, he \nyet speaketh, " Strive to be uncommon Chris- \ntians V \n\n\n\nJOHN CARVER. 128 \n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV. \n\nJOHN CAEVER \xe2\x80\x94 ^WILLIAM BRADFORD \xe2\x80\x94 EDWARD WINSLOW \xe2\x80\x94 \nJOHN WINTHROP \xe2\x80\x94 JOHN ENDICOTT \xe2\x80\x94 JONATHAN BELCHER \xe2\x80\x94 \nJAMES BOWDOIN \xe2\x80\x94 SAMUEL ADAMS \xe2\x80\x94 ^JOHN BROOKS \xe2\x80\x94 SAMUEL \n\nPHILLIPS ^WILLIAM PHILLIPS ISAAC PARKER THEOPHILUS \n\nPARSONS. \n\n(i^ohnntixs of pismoutfe Colony. \nJOHN CARVER \n\nWas the first governor of Plymouth colony. \nHe was one of the first emigrants, in the May- \nflower, and was one of the company who \nlanded upon the rock of Plymouth. He was \nunanimously elected governor of the colony, \nand was distinguished for his prudence, his \ndisinterestedness, and his integrity. The in- \nterests of the colony were his first care, and \nthe people confided in him as their friend and \nfather. \n\nSays a biographer: ^\' Piety, humility, and \nbenevolence, were eminent traits in his charac- \nter. In the time of the general sickness which \nbefell the colony, after he had himself re- \ncovered, he was assiduous in attending the sick \nand performing the most humiliating services \nfor them, without any distinction of persons or \ncharacters." \n\n\n\n124 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\n\n\nWILLIAM BRADFORD \n\nWas the second governor of Plymouth colony ; \nand such was his reputation, that for thirty \nyears he was placed at the head of govern- \nment \xe2\x80\x94 that is, as long as he lived, with the \nexception of five years, when, at his own re- \nquest, the people did not re-elect him. \n\nA biographer says : " After an infirm and \ndeclining state of health for a number of \nmonths, he was suddenly seized by an acute \ndisease. May 7, 1657. In the night his mind \nwas so enraptured by contemplations upon re- \nligious truth and the hopes of futurity, that \nhe said to his friends in the morning : \' The \ngood Spirit of God has given me a pledge of \nmy happiness in another world, and the first \nfruits of eternal glory. ^ The next day he was \nremoved from the present state of existence, \naged sixty-eight. His life was exemplary and \nuseful. He was watchful against sin, a man \nof prayer, and conspicuous for holiness/\' \n\nEDWARD WmSLOW \n\nWas the third governor of Plymouth colony. \nHe shared largely in the confidence of the \ncolony, and was twice, or oftener, sent to Eng- \n\n\n\nJOHN ENDICOTT. 125 \n\nland as an agent, and while there he exerted \nhis influence to form the Society for Propagat- \ning the Gospel in New-England, which was in- \ncorporated in 1649, and of which he was an \nactive member. Governor Winslow was a de- \ncided Christian. \n\nSuch were the men who were placed at the \nhead of affairs in the early periods of our \ncountry\'s history ; and it is to them and their \npious influence we are indebted for the glori- \nous results which have followed. \n\n\n\nJOHN WINTHROP \n\nWas flrst governor of Massachusetts, and was \nannually elected for eleven years. His time, \nhis exertions, his interests, were all devoted to \nthe infant plantation. \'^ He was a most faith- \nful and upright magistrate, and exemplary \nChristian.^\' \n\n\n\nJOHN ENDICOTT, \n\nElected governor of Massachusetts in 1(344, \nthree years after Governor Winthrop, was a \nsincere and zealous Puritan, though he was \nmore rigid in his princij)les and severe in the \nexecution of the laws against those who ditlered \n\n\n\n126 CHKISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nfrom the religion of the colony, than could be \njustified except by a reference to the spirit of \nthat age. So far as scepticism is concerned, \nhe was devoted to the cause of Christianity. \n\nThe early governors of Massachusetts colony \nare nearly all of them believed to have been \nreligious. If we come down one hundred \nyears in the history of the colonies it is still \nthe same. \n\n\n\nJONATHAN BELCHER \n\nWas appointed governor of Massachusetts and \nNew-Hampshire in 1730, which ofiice he filled \nfor eleven years. He was subsequently gover- \nnor of the province of New-Jersey, and was the \nchief patron and benefactor of Princeton Col- \nlege. He possessed, in an uncommon degree, \ngracefulness of person, dignity of deportment, \nand an unwavering regard to what he judged \nto be duty. The highest traits of his charac- \nter rested on his deep and unaflFected piety. \n\nA biographer says of him : " He seems to \nhave possessed, in addition to his other accom- \nplishments, that piety whose lustre is eternal. \nHis religion was not a mere formal thing \nwhich he received from tradition, or professed \nin conformity to the custom of the country in \nwhich he lived ; but it impressed his heart and \n\n\n\nJONATHAN BELCHER. 127 \n\ngoverned his life. He had such views of the \nmajesty and holiness of God, of the strictness \nand purity of the divine law, and of his own \nunworthiness and iniquity, as made him dis- \nclaim all dependence on his own righteousness, \nand led him to place his whole hope for salva- \ntion on the merits of the Lord Jesus Christ, \nw^ho appeared to him an all-sufficient and \nglorious Saviour. He expressed the humblest \nsense of his own character, and the most ex- \nalted views of the rich, free, and glorious grace \noffered in the gospel to sinners. His faith \nworked hy love, and produced the genuine \nfruits of obedience. It exhibited itself in a \nlife of piety and devotion, of meekness and \nhumility, of justice, truth, and benevolence. \nHe searched the Holy Scriptures with the \ngreatest diligence and delight. In his family \nhe maintained the worship of God, himself \nreading the volume of truth, and addressing \nin prayer the Majesty of heaven and of earth, \nas long as his health and strength would \npossibly admit. In the hours of retirement \nhe held intercourse with* Heaven, carefully \nredeeming time from the business of this \nworld, to attend to the more* important con- \ncerns of another. Though there was nothing \nostentatious in his religion, yet he was not \nasliamed to avow his attachment to tlie gospel \n\n\n\n128 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nof Christ, even wlien he exposed himself to \nridicule and censure. He was deeply inter- \nested in the progress of holiness and religion ; \nand as he approached the termination of his \nlife he often expressed his desire to depart, \nand to enter the world of glory.\'^ \n\n\n\nJAMES BOWDOIN, \n\nSecond governor of Massachusetts after the \nadoption of her constitution, was not eminent \nsimply as a statesman, but as a philosopher. \nIt was not elevated place that made him a great \nman. He graduated at Harvard College in \n1745, where he was greatly distinguished for \nhis genius and his superior attainments. \nThough left, at the age of twenty-one, in pos- \nsession of an ample fortune, and thus having \nit put in his power to gratify all the giddy \ndesires of youth, he, with a maturity of wisdom \nunder such circumstances too rarely equalled, \nmarked out for himself a course of literary \nand scientific research, to which he adhered \nthrough life. \n\nHe held several responsible offices under the \nprovincial government; and in 1775, a year \nthe most critical and important to America, \n\n\n\nJAMES BOWDOJN. 12U \n\nhe was elected president of the council of \nMassachusetts, which office he continued to fill \nmost of the time till the adoption of the State \nconstitution. Of the convention which formed \nthis instrument he was president, and was the \nsecond governor under it. All these offices \nwere filled with wisdom, firmness, and in- \ntegrity. \n\nMr. Bowdoin was not less distinguished for \nhis literary character. Suffice it to say, he \nreceived from the University of Edinburg, as \nwell as from several others, the degree of \nLL.D., and was elected a member of the Eoyal \nSociety of London and of Dublin. The Ameri- \ncan Academy of Arts and Sciences, of which he \nwas the first president, was formed under his \ninfluence. \n\nIn relation to his religious character, a bio- \ngrapher remarks : " He was deeply convinced \nof the truth and excellence of Christianity, \nand it had a constant effect on his life. As \nthe hour of his departure approached he ex- \npressed his satisfaction in the thought of \ngoing to the full enjoyment of God and his \nEedeemer." \n\n9 \n\n\n\n130 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\n\n\nSAMUEL ADAMS, \n\n\n\nSuccessor of Governor Bowdoiii as chief \nmagistrate of the commonwealth of Massa- \nchusetts, was briefly noticed as one of the \nsigners of the Declaration of Independence. \nHe was an eminent Christian. \n\n\n\nJOHN BROOKS. \n\nAmong the more recent governors of that \nState, who have been pious, and have already \ngone to reap the eternal rewards of virtue, my \nmind fixes on John Brooks, LL.D. The name \nof Dr. Brooks was mentioned among the re- \nvolutionary ofiicers, but is deserving of more \nparticular notice. He served his country in \nboth wars, and filled many high offices in his \nState, besides the chief magistracy. \n\nHe died a member of the Church in Med- \nford. A short time before his death, he said : \n\'^ I see nothing terrible in death. In looking \nto the future I have no fears. I know in \nwhom I have believed ; and I feel a persuasion \nthat all the trials appointed me, past or pre- \nsent, will result in my future and eternal \nhappiness. I look back u23on my past life \nwith humility. I am sensible of many imper- \n\n\n\nSAMUEL PHILLIPS. lol \n\nfections that cleave to me. I know that the \npresent is neither the season nor the place \nin which to begin the preparation for death. \nOur whole life is given us for this great object, \nand the work of preparation should be early \ncommenced, and be never relaxed till the end \nof our days. To Grod I can appeal, that it has \nbeen my humble endeavour to serve him in \nsincerity, and wherein I have failed I trust in \nhis grace to forgive. I now rest my soul on \nthe mercy of my adorable Creator, through \nthe only mediation of his Son, our Lord. O \nwhat a ground of hope is there in that saying \nof an apostle, that God is, in Christ, reconcil- \ning a guilty world unto himself, not imputing \ntheir trespasses unto them ! In God I have \nplaced my eternal all, and into his hands I \ncommit my spirit V^ \n\n\n\n3lttutjenattl-(Kobtrnt)rj5 of fSimsKt^yxuiin. \n\nSAMUEL PHILLIPS, LL.D, \n\nWas graduated at Harvard College in 1771. \nIn 1775 he was a member of the provincial \ncongress, and was constantly in public office \ntill the period of his death in 1802, when he \nwas lieutenant-governor of the common wealtli. \nDr. Phillips was distinguished as the bene- \n\n\n\n132 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nfactor of learning. He projected the academy \nat Andover, and was mucli concerned in estab- \nlishing that, as well as the academy at Exeter, \nwhich were founded by his father and uncle. \nTo these institutions he was a distinguished \nbenefactor. It is worthy of remark, as illus- \ntrating the force of a worthy example, that \nhis widow and son were among the principal \nfounders of the theological seminary at An- \ndover. \n\nA biographer says : " Such was his superi- \nority to the pride of wealth and of power, and \nsuch his benevolence and humility, that when \nhonoured w^ith public applause and raised to \neminence he would frequently spend the in- \nterval between the morning and evening ser- \nvices of the Sabbath, in the house of God, for \nthe purpose of reading some pious book to \nthose whose distant habitations prevented \nthem from returning home. He was careful \nto impart religious instruction to his family, \nand he led its daily devotions with humility, \nfervour, and eloquence. He appeared to be \ncontinually governed by love to the Supreme \nBeing, and by the desire of imitating his \nbenevolence and doing good. His deep views \nof evangelical doctrine and duty, of human \ndepravity and mediatorial mercy, formed his \nheart to humility, condescension, and kind- \n\n\n\nWILLIAM PHILLIPS. 133 \n\nness, and led him continually to depend on \nthe grace of God through the atonement of \nhis Son." \n\n\n\nWILLIAM PHILLIPS \n\nWas also lieutenant-governor of Massachusetts \nat the time of his death in 1817. He was a \ndeacon in the old South Church, Boston, for \nthe last twenty-three years of his life, and has \nbeen called by the enviable appellation of the \nChristian philanthropist \n\n" Deacon Phillips,\'^ says a biographer, "was \nan active member of many charitable societies. \nHe was, at the time of his decease, president \nof the Massachusetts Bible Society. For a \nseries of years his charities had been from \n;$8,000 to ;gl 1,000 annually. Many widows \nand fatherless children were by him rescued \nfrom want. He bequeathed to Phillips Acad- \nemy ^15,000 ; to the Theological Institution at \nAndover, ;^10,000 ; to the Society for Propagat- \ning the Gospel among the Indians, the Massa- \nchusetts Bible Society, the Foreign Mission \nBoard, the Congregational Society, the Educa- \ntion Society, and the Massachusetts General \nHospital, each $5,000 ; to the Medical Dispen- \nsary ;$3,000 ; to the Female Asylum, and tlie \nAsylum for Boys, each ;$!2,000; in all, j!G2,000. \n\n\n\n134 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\n\n\nFrom among the chief justices of Massachu- \nsetts, who have been distinguished for piety \nand learning, I select two. The ground of \nthe selection is, that they have lived so re- \ncently, that everybody remembers them to \nhave been esteemed eminent jurists. \n\n\n\nISAAC PARKER, LL.D., \n\nWas born in Boston, in 1768, and graduated \nat Harvard College, in 1786. He commenced \nthe practice of law in the then district of \nMaine, and was elected a member of con- \ngress. In 1806, he was appointed a judge \nof the supreme court ; and in 1814, was \nmade chief justice, of which office he, with \nhigh reputation and faithfulness, discharged \nthe duties sixteen years \xe2\x80\x94 till the day of his \ndeath. He died suddenly, May 25th, 1830, \nof apoplexy. \n\nHis biographer says of him : -^ He was a \ndistinguished scholar and friend of literature. \nFor eleven years he was a trustee of Bowdoin \nCollege, and for twenty years an overseer of \nHarvard College. He was a man of great \n\n\n\nTHEOPHILUS PARSONS. 135 \n\nmoral worth, and a firm believer in the Chris- \ntian religion. \'^ \n\n\n\nTHEOPHILUS PARSONS, LL. D., \n\nPreceded Chief Justice Parker by a few years, \nin this important office. He too graduated at \nHarvard, and studied law with Judge Brad- \nbury, of Falmouth, now Portland, and kept \nthe grammar-school. When the town was \nburnt by the British, he returned to his \nfather\'s, and soon opened an oflftce in New- \nbury port. In 1779 he was a member of the \nconvention which formed the constitution of \nMassachusetts ; he was also, in 1789, a mem- \nber of the State convention, which adopted the \nConstitution of the United States. He re- \nmoved to Boston in 1800. After an extensive \npractice of thirty-five years, he succeeded Chief \nJustice Dana, in 1806. Not only was he a \nprofound lawyer, but an excellent classical \nscholar, and a skilful mathematician. Judge \nParker, in a sketch given by him of this emi- \nnent jurist, has expressed his opinion, that, \nhad he lived in England, he would have been \nmade lord chancellor, or lord chief justice. \nHe died in 1813, aged sixty-three. \n\nIn reference to the religious character of \nChief Justice Parsons, I wish to direct special \n\n\n\n136 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nattention to this fact, that with him the pro- \nfession of a belief in Christianity was not the \neffect of some early or casual impulse, which \nled him to adopt the Christian faith without \ninvestigation ; but was the result of the most \npatient examination of evidence, by a vigor- \nous, a mature, and a well-disciplined mind. \nIt was in quite the latter part of his life, that \nhe joined the Church in Boston, of which Dr. \nKirkland was the pastor. ** I examined,^^ he \nwas accustomed to say to his friends, " the \nproof, and weighed the objections to Chris- \ntianity, many years ago, with the accuracy \nof a lawyer ; and the result was so entire a \nconviction of its truth, that I have only to re- \ngret that my belief has not more completely \ninfluenced my conduct.\'^ Two days before his \ndeath, he repeated his strong conviction to \nDr. Kirkland in the following terms : " I could \nas soon doubt the existence of God himself, as \nthe truth of the Christian religion. ^^ Well \nhas it been said, " The judgment of such a \nman ought to be generally know^n.\'^ \n\n\n\nJOHN WINTHROP. 137 \n\n\n\nCHAPTER V. \n\nPROFESSOR JOHN WINTHROP \xe2\x80\x94 ^FRANCIS BACON \xe2\x80\x94 ROBERT BOYLE \n\nJOHN LOCKE JOSEPH ADDISON DESCARTES REID \n\nSTEWART BROWN COLERIDGE JOSHUA REYNOLDS \n\nSAMUEL JOHNSON \xe2\x80\x94 EDMUND BURKE JAMES NECKAR. \n\nJOHN WINTHROP. \n\nIn the sketch given of Rittenhouse, it was \nsaid that " he calculated and observed the \ntransit of Venus, a phenomenon which had \nbeen observed but twice before since the crea- \ntion of the world, and which no one then liv- \ning could ever witness again.\'^ We have since \nseen, that this phenomenon was first calcu- \nlated and observed by J. Horrox, a young \nreligious astronomer of England. The subject \nof this sketch was among the few observers \nof the second calculated transit of Venus. And \nin passing, it. is perhaps deserving of remark, \nthat of the three persons appointed by the \nAmerican Philosophical Society, to superin- \ntend the observation of the third of these rare \nphenomena two at least were religious, \xe2\x80\x94 Rit- \ntenhouse and Rev. Mr. Ewing. Of the char- \nacter of the third. Dr. Owen Biddle, 1 have \nno knowledge. And yet the irreligious would \nhave us believe, that philosophy and scepti- \n\n\n\n138 CHRISTIAN BIOaRAPHY. \n\ncism are synonymous terms ! But to our pro- \nposed sketch. \n\nJohn Winthrop, LL.D., F.E. S., HoUis pro- \nfessor of matliematics and natural philosophy \nin Harvard College, was a son of Adam \nWinthrop, a member of the council, and a de- \nscendant of the governor of Massachusetts. \nHe was graduated in 1732. In 1738 he w^as \nappointed professor in the place of Mr. Green- \nwood. He immediately entered upon the du- \nties of this ofBce, and discharged them with \nfidelity and high reputation through life. In \n1761, he sailed to St. Johns, in New-Bruns- \nwick, to observe the transit of Venus over the \nsun^s disc, June 6th, agreeably to the recom- \nmendation of Mr. Hailly. When the day ar- \nrived, he w^as favoured with a fine, clear morn- \ning, and he enjoyed the inexpressible satis- \nfaction of observing a phenomenon which \nhad never before been seen, excepting by Mr. \nHorrox, in 1639, by any inhabitant of the \nearth. He died at Cambridge, May 3, 1779. \naged sixty-four. He was distinguished for his \nvery intimate acquaintance with mathemati- \ncal science. His talents for investigating and \ncommunicating truth were very rare. In the \nvariety and extent of his knowledge he has \nseldom been equalled. He had deeply studied \nthe policies of different ages ; he had read the \n\n\n\nJOHN WINTHROP. 139 \n\nprincipal fathers ; and he was thoroughly ac- \nquainted with the controversy between Chris- \ntians and deists. His firm faith in the Chris- \ntian religion was founded upon an accurate \nexamination of the evidences of its truth, and \nthe virtues of his life added a lustre to his in- \ntellectual powers and his scientific attain- \nments. In his family he devoutly maintained \nthe worship of the Supreme Being ; while he \nhimself attended upon the positive institutions \nof the gospel, he could not conceive what rea- \nson any one who called himself a Christian \ncould give for neglecting them. The day be- \nfore his death he said : \xe2\x80\x94 " The hope that is \nset before us in the New Testament is the \nonly thing which will support a man in his \ndying hour. If any man build on any other \nfoundation, in my apprehension his founda- \ntion will fail.^\' \n\nProfessor Winthrop published several scien- \ntific papers ; and his accurate observations of \nthe transit of Mercury in 1740, were honour- \nably noticed by the Koyal Society of London. \n\n\n\n140 CHRISTIAN BIOGEAPHY. \n\n\n\nFRANCIS BACON. \n\n\n\nFrancis Bacon was born January 22, 1561. \nAt an early age he gave promise of those \ntalents which distinguished him in his more \nmature years, so that he attracted the notice \nof Queen Elizabeth, who familiarly called him \nher young lord keeper. He entered Trinity \nCollege when he was in his twelfth year ; and \nby the time he was sixteen years old, he had \nmade great proficiency in the learning of those \ntimes, so that he already began to project \nthose improvements in science, which paved \nthe way for its complete reformation. At the \nage of nineteen, he wrote a work, entitled, \n\'* Of the State of Europe,^^ in which he gave \nthe most astonishing proofs of the early ma- \nturity of his judgment. Soon after his father\'s \ndeath, he commenced the study of the common \nlaw ; it was, however, impossible that a genius \nthat could range through the whole circle of \nthe sciences, should confine itself to so dry a \nstudy. In his moments of leisure, therefore, \nwe\' find him taking a view of the state of \nlearning, and devising means for supplying \nthe defects and correcting the errors he had \ndetected. A treatise which he published about \nthis period, entitled, " The Greatest Birth of \n\n\n\nFRANCIS BACON. 141 \n\nTime/\' but which is now lost, appears to have \nexhibited the groundwork of that splendid \ndesign, which was afterwards disclosed more \nfully in his " Grand Instauration of the Sci- \nences/\' In 1603, he was chosen a member of \nparliament ; and in July of the same year re- \nceived the honour of knighthood. The next \nyear, he was made one of his majesty\'s coun- \ncil. In 1605, he published a work on " The \nProficiency and Advancement of Learning," \nfirst in English and afterwards in Latin, \nwhich gained him much celebrity. In 1607, \nSir Francis was appointed solicitor-general, \nafter which his practice increased so much, \nthat he was retained in almost all great causes. \nIn 1610, appeared his book \'\' On the Wisdom \nof the Ancients," in which is exhibited great \ndepth and variety of knowledge. In 1611, he \nwas made a j udge of the Marshal\'s Court, and \ntwo years after, he succeeded Sir Henry Ho- \nbart as attorney-general. While in this office, \nhe exerted himself much to put a stop to the \npernicious practice of duelling ; and his elo- \nquent and learned charge on this subject, in \nthe Star-Chamber, so pleased the lords of the \ncouncil, who were present, that they ordered \nit to be printed and published with the decree \nof the court. In 1617, Sir Francis succeeded \nChancellor Egerton, with the title of lord \n\n\n\n142 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nkeeper ; and soon after, the king going on a \nvisit to^ Scotland, lie was intrusted with the \nconduct of public affairs in his absence, and \npresided at the council. In the beginning of \n1619, he was made lord high chancellor of \nEngland, had the title of Baron Verulam con- \nferred upon him, and shortly after, the dig- \nnity of Viscount St. Albans. \n\nAmidst the multiplicity and variety of en- \ngagements, in which his high station involved \nhim, he still found time for his. favourite study \nof philosophy. In 1620, he published his \nmost finished performance, under the title of \n\'\' Novum Organum Scientiarum,^^ which form- \ned the sequel to his " Grand Instauration of \nthe SeiencesJ^ This work was highly appre- \nciated by the learned men of his time, who \nregarded it as a standard of true philosophi- \ncal inquiry ; and later times have not been \nunjust to his memory, in styling him, " The \nFather of the Inductive Philosophy.^^ \n\nAfter this, he became unfortunate and re- \ntired to private life. During this period, he \nwrote his " History of Henry VII. f^ "\xe2\x80\xa2 Essays, \nor, Counsels Civil and Moral ;\'\' and the " Third, \nFourth, and Fifth parts of the Grand Instau- \nration of the Sciences,\'^ by which last work in \nparticular he enlarged the boundaries of hu- \nman science beyond all who had gone before \n\n\n\nFRANCIS BACON. 143 \n\nhim, uri both individuals and learned societies \nof all the most civilized nations of Europe \nhave freely acknowledged. \n\nAfter mentioning his death, which occurred \non the 9th of April, 1626, the biographical \nsketch, of which the foregoing is little more \nthan an abridgment, says : " Thus died Lord \nBacon, of whom it is little to say, that he was \none of the greatest philosophers of modern \ntimes. To him belongs the praise of striking- \nout a new path to science, and rescuing it \nfrom the load of metaphysical jargon which \nhad overwhelmed and nearly extinguished it. \nGoethe says, \' He drew a sponge over the table \nof human knowledge.\' His contemporaries \ncould not fully appreciate the extent of his \ngenius, and the value of his labours. Sensi- \nble of this himself, he says in his will : \' My \nname and memory I bequeath to foreign na- \ntions and to my own countrymen after some \ntime be passed over I\' With regard to phy- \nsics, if the learned of our times have made \nmore brilliant discoveries, few will deny that \nit was Bacon who led the way to those dis- \ncoveries, and laid the foundation of the sci- \nences in the most solid and decisive experi- \nments.\'^ \n\nIn the Spectator, (No. 554,) I find the fol- \nlowing just tribute to the memory of this \n\n\n\n144 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\ngreat philosopher : \xe2\x80\x94 " One of the most exten- \nsive and improved geniuses we have had any \ninstance of in our own nation, or in any other, \nwas that of Sir Francis Bacon, Lord Verulam. \nThis great man, by an extraordinary force of \nnature, compass of thought, and indefatigable \nstudy, had amassed to himself such stores of \nknowledge as we cannot look upon without \namazement. His capacity seemed to have \ngrasped all that was revealed in books before \nhis time ; and, not satisfied with that, he be- \ngan to strike out new tracks of science, too \nmany to be travelled over by any one man in \nthe compass of the longest life. These, there- \nfore, he could only mark down, like imperfect \ncoastings on maps, or supposed points of land, \nto be faster discovered and ascertained by the \nindustry of after ages, who should proceed \nupon his notices or conjectures.\'^ \n\nIn the Tattler, (No. 267,) I also find drawn \na fine character of this extraordinary man : \xe2\x80\x94 \n" Sir Francis Bacon was a man who, for great- \nness of genius and compass of knowledge, did \nhonour to his age and country, I could almost \nsay, to human nature itself. He possessed at \nonce all those extraordinary talents which \nwere divided among the greatest authors of \nantiquity. He had the sound, distinct, com- \nprehensive knowledge of Aristotle, with the \n\n\n\nFRANCIS BACON. 145 \n\nbeautiful lights, graces, and embellishments \nof Cicero. One does not know which to ad- \nmire most in his writings, the strength of \nreason, force of style, or brightness of imagi- \nnation.\'^ \n\nLord Bacon was a serious believer in Chris- \ntianity. This might be inferred from a pas- \nsage in his Essays, (No. 16,) " A little philo- \nsophy inclineth men\'s minds to atheism, but \ndepths in philosophy bring men\'s minds about \nto religion !" This remark of one of the \ngreatest of men, which is equally applicable to \nevery species of infidelity as to atheism, is \nspecially commended to the consideration of \nthe reader. \n\nHis piety becomes more apparent in a \nprayer found among his papers written by his \nown hand. The following short extracts must \nsuffice : \xe2\x80\x94 \n\n" Kemember, O Lord, how thy servant has \nwalked before thee ; remember what I have \nfirst sought, and what has been principal in \nmy intentions. I have loved thj^ assemblies; \nI have mourned for the divisions of thy Church ; \nI have delighted in the brightness of thy \nsanctuary ; I have ever prayed unto thee, that \nthe vine which thy riglit hand hath planted in \nthis nation might have the former and tlie \nlatter rain, and that it might stretch its \n\n\n\n146 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nbranches to the seas and to the floods. If any \nhave been my enemies, I thought not of them, \nneither has the sun gone down upon my dis- \npleasure. Thy creatures have been my books, \nbut thy Scriptures much more so. I have \nsought thee in the courts, the fields, and the \ngardens ; but I have found thee in thy \ntemples. \n\n" Thousands have been my sins, and ten \nthousand my transgressions ; but thy sanctifi- \ncations have remained with me, and my heart, \nthrough thy grace, hath been an unquenched \ncoal upon thine altar. \n\n\'* O Lord, my strength ! I have, from my \nyouth, met with thee in all my ways \xe2\x80\x94 in thy \nfatherly compassions, in thy merciful chastise- \nments, and in thy most visible providences. \nJust are thy judgments upon me for my sins, \nwhich are more in number than the sands of \nthe sea, but which have no proportion to thy \nmercies. Be merciful unto me, O Lord, for \nmy Saviour\'s sake, and receive me into thy \nbosom or guide me in thy ways.\'\' \n\nThe retirement of Lord Bacon was much \nspent in studying the great truths of religion, \nand his strongest consolations in adversity \nseem to have been drawn from this divine \nsource. \n\n\n\nROBERT BOYLE. 147 \n\n\n\nROBERT BOYLE. \n\n\n\nThe article of the Spectator, from whicli a \nquotation was made in my last sketcli, after \nalluding to Lord Bacon, says : ** The excellent \nMr. Boyle was the person who seems to ha^\'e \nbeen designed by nature to succeed to the \nlabours and inquiries of that extraordinary \ngenius I have just mentioned. By innumera- \nble experiments he in a great measure filled \nup those plans and outlines of science which \nhis predecessor had sketched out. His life was \nspent in the pursuit of nature through a great \nvariety of forms and changes, and in the most \nrational as well as devout adoration of its \ndivine Author.\'\' \n\nEobert Boyle was born at Lismore, in Ire- \nland, Jan. 26, 1626, the year that Bacon died. \nIn early life he prosecuted his studies with \ngreat success, first at Eaton, under private \ntutors, arnd lastly at Geneva. After having \ntravelled over various parts of the continent \nhe settled in England, and devoted himself to \nscience, especially to natural philosophy and \nto chemistry; and to the close of liis existence \nhe unremittingly persevered in his scientific \npursuits. \n\nIt is unnecessary to ])artiriiln]\'ize liis at- \n\n\n\n148 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\ntainments. As a philosopher, he is admitted \non all hands to rank with Bacon and with \nNewton. The learned Boerhaave, who cannot \nbe accused of adulation or of partiality, says : \n" Boyle, the ornament of his age and country, \nsucceeded to the genius and inquiries of the \ngreat Verulam. Which of all Boyle\'s writings \nshall I recommend ? All of them ; to him we \nowe the secrets of fire, air, water, animals, \nvegetables, fossils, so .that from his works may \nbe deduced the whole system of natural know- \nledge.\'^ \n\nHis knowledge and the extent of his re- \nsearches were scarcely equalled but by his \nmodesty. He was one of the first who laid \nthe foundation of the Royal Society, yet re- \nfused the presidency when offered to him. \nHe likewise modestly declined the provostship \nof Eaton, w^hich Charles H., unasked, bestowed \non him as the reward of his splendid talents. \nThe honour of a peerage he also declined. In \nthis trait of character how does he resemble \nthe great of every age ! Witness Socrates, and \nSir William Jones, and Newton, and Davy, as \nalso our own Eittenhouse and the late lamented \nBowditch. \n\nBoyle was a consistent and unwavering \nChristian. \'\' Deists,\'\' says he, *\' must, to main- \ntain their negative creed, swallow greater im- \n\n\n\nROBERT BOYLE. 149 \n\nprobabilities than Christians, to maintain the \npositive creed of the apostles. And they must \nthink it fitter to believe that chance, or na- \nture, or superstition, should perform wonder- \nful and hardly-credible things than that the \ngreat Author of nature, God, should be able \nto do so.\'\' He speaks of the Bible as a \n** matchless volume," and says, " It is impossi- \nble we can study it too much or esteem it too \nhighly." \n\nHis piety was so conspicuous as to attract \nthe special attention of the king, and of the \ntwo great ministers of state, Southampton and \nClarendon, by the latter of whom he was so- \nlicited to take on himself the duties of a \nclergyman. This, after mature deliberation, \nhe declined, mainly, as we are told by Bishop \nBurnet, because he " did not feel within him- \nself any motion or tendency of mind, which \nhe could safely esteem a call from the Holy \nSpirit, and therefore he did not venture to \ntake holy orders, lest he should be found to \nhave lied unto it." \n\n" His knowledge," says Bishop Burnet, \n" was of so vast an extent, that if it were not \nfor the variety of the vouches in their several \nsorts, I should be afraid to say all I know. \nHe carried the study of the Hebrew very far \ninto the rabbinical writings, and the other \n\n\n\n150 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\noriental tongues. He had read so much of \nthe fathers that he had formed a clear judg- \nment of all the eminent ones ; he had read a \nvast deal on the Scriptures, had gone very \nnicely through the various controversies in re- \nligion, and was a true master of the whole \nbody of divinity ; he entertained so profound \na veneration for the Deity that the very name \nof God was never mentioned by him without \na pause and an observable stop in his dis- \ncourse.\'*" To those who conversed most with \nhim, in his inquiries into nature^ it was obvi- \nous that it was his leading object, in that, on \nwhich as he had his own eye constantly fixed, \nso he took care to put others often in mind of \nit, viz., to raise in himself and others more \nexalted thoughts of the greatness, and glory, \nand wisdom, and goodness of the Deity. Such \nwas the impression of this upon his own mind \nthat he concludes the article of his will, which \nhas a reference to the Eoyal Society, in these \nwords : " Wishing them also a happy success \nin their laudable attempts to discover the true \nnature of the works of God, and praying that \nthey, and other researchers into physical \ntruths, may cordially refer their attainments \nto the glory of the great Author of nature, and \nto the comfort of mankind. ^^ \n\n^ The same thing is remarked of Sir Isaac Newton. \n\n\n\nJOHN LOCKE. 151 \n\nSo brightly did the example of this great \nand good man shine through his whole course, \nthat Bishop Burnet, on reviewing it, in a mo- \nment of pious exultation thus expressed him- \nself: \'\'I might challenge the whole tribe of \nlibertines to come and view the usefulness as \nwell as the excellence of the Christian religion, \nin a life that was entirely dedicated to it." \n\n\n\nJOHN LOCKE. \n\nJohn Locke was born in 1632, at Wington, \nnear Bristol, England. He is usually es- \nteemed as one of the most illustrious philoso- \nphers and one of the greatest men that Eng- \nland ever produced. We are told that, " with \njudicious taste and becoming simplicity. Queen \nCaroline erected in her pavilion at Eichmond \nhis bust, with those of Bacon, Newton, and \nClarke,* as the four principal philosophers of \nwhich England may boast with real pride and \nsatisfaction when she enumerates her departed \nheroes.\'\' It seems unnecessary to refer to his \npublic life, as his name is so well known. \nHis " Essay concerning Human Understand- \ning,\'\' his " Discourses on Government," and \n\n"\' Samuel Clarke, D. D., whose name was associated \nwith Newton and Leibnitz while living. His clerical \ntitle excludes him from a notice in these sketches. \n\n\n\nJc \n\n\n\n152 CHKISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nhis \'\' Letters on Toleration/^ are the works for \nwhich he is most unusually distinguished. \n\nLocke was a practical man. He always \nkept the useful in his eye, and esteemed the \nemployments of men only in proportion to the \ngood they are capable of producing. This ex- \ntended even to the pursuits of criticism and \nother departments of literature. This gene- \nral trait of character is illustrated by the fol- \nlowing anecdote : \xe2\x80\x94 \n\n" Mr. Locke being invited by a certain noble- \nman to meet some of the most celebrated wits \nand scholars of the age, went in great expecta- \ntion of enjoying a high intellectual repast. \nThe card-table being introduced after dinner, \ncontrary to his expectation, he retired pensive \nand chagrined to the window. Inquiry being \nmade if he was well, he replied, * he had come \nto give the company meeting in full confi- \ndence of receiving an uncommon degree of \nsatisfaction in the conversation of such cele- \nbrated characters, and he must acknowledge \nhe felt himself hurt at the disappointment.^ \nThe card-table was immediately withdrawn, \nand a rich flow of souls began, to his no small \ngratification.^^ \n\nHis belief in the Christian religion, and his \nregard for its sacred truths, he exhibited in \nvarious ways. Among his earlier works is \n\n\n\nJOHN LOCKE. 153 \n\nfound one entitled, "\xe2\x80\xa2 Keasonableness of Chris- \ntianity/^ and in tlie latter part of liis life he \nwrote a judicious commentary on several of \nthe epistles of St. Paul. He everywhere re- \nfers to the sacred writings with the greatest \nreverence, and exhorts Christians *Ho betake \nthemselves in earnest to the study of the way \nof salvation, in those holy writings, wherein \nGod has revealed it from heaven and proposed \nit to the world, seeking our religion where we \nare sure it is in truth to be found, comparing \nspiritual things with spiritual.\'\' In answer to \nthe question propounded to him, " What is the \nshortest and surest way for a young man to \nattain the true knowledge of the Christian re- \nligion?\'\' he says, "Let him study the Holy \nScriptures, especially the New Testament. \nTherein are contained the words of eternal life. \nIt has God for its author, salvation for its end, \nand truth, without any mixture of error, for \nits matter." < \n\nThe pious consolation which the Christian \nreceives from a trust in God, and in the reve- \nlation which he has seen fit to give to man, it \nseems to me could not be more forcibly ex- \npressed in the same number of words, than in \nthe following simple declaration of his: "I \ngratefully receive and rejoice in the light of \nrevelation, whicli has set me at rest in many \n\n\n\n154 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nthings, the manner whereof my poor reason \ncan by no means make out to me.\'\' Thus we \nsee even sage and hoary-headed philosophy \nlistening to the teaching of revelation, with \nthe intent and ear of childhood to the voice of \nmaternal instruction. \n\nLady Masham, a lady of superior intelli- \ngence and virtue, and in whose society this il- \nlustrious man passed the last years of his life, \ngives the following account of the manner in \nwhich he died : \xe2\x80\x94 \n\n" You will not, perhaps, dislike to know, \nthat the last scene of Mr. Locke\'s life was not \nless admirable than anything else concerning \nhim. All the faculties of his mind were per- \nfect to the last. His weakness, of which alone \nhe died, made such gradual and visible ad- \nvances, that few people, I think, do so sensibly \nsee death approach them as he did. During \nall this time no one could observe the least \nalteration in his humour ; always cheerful, \nconversable, civil, to the last day thoughtful \nof all the concerns of his friends and omitting \nno fit occasion of giving Christian advice to \nall about him. In short, his death was like \nhis life \xe2\x80\x94 truly pious, yet natural, easy, and un- \naffected. Time, I think, can never produce a \nmore eminent example of reason and religion \nthan he was, both living and dying. \n\n\n\nJOSEPH ADDISON. 155 \n\n\n\nJOSEPH ADDISON. \n\nJoseph Addison was born May 1, 1672. He \nformed an acquaintance with Mr., afterwards \nSir Eichard Steele, in early life, with whom he \nwas subsequently so intimately associated. \nAt the age of fifteen he was entered at Queen\'s \nCollege, Oxford, where he soon became dis- \ntinguished for the ardour with which he culti- \nvated classical literature, and for his skill in \nLatin poetry. He early began to distinguish \nhimself as an author, and was highly respected \nby many of the greatest and the most learned \nof his contemporaries. \n\nIn 1695 he addressed a complimentary \npoem, on one of the campaigns of King Wil- \nliam, to the lord keeper Somers ; and in 1701 \nhe wrote his epistolary poem from Italy, ad- \ndressed to Lord Halifax, Avhich is esteemed by \nmany the most elegant and finished of his \npoetical productions. On his return home, he \npublished his travels, which he dedicated to \nLord Somers. After some reverses attendant \non the death of King William, Lord Godolphin \napplying to Lord Halifax to recommend him a \npoet capable of celebrating the recent splendid \nvictory of the Duke of Marlborough at Blen- \nheim, the latter named Mr. Addison, who pro- \n\n\n\n156 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nduced his celebrated poem, ^\' The Campaign/\' \nfor which he was rewarded with the place of \ncommissioner of appeals, in which he succeeded \nMr. Locke. In the year 1706 he was made \nsecretary of state. These employments, how- \never, did not engross him from the pursuits of \nliterature. He assisted Steele, in the Tattler, \nSpectator, and Guardian, in the course of which \nappeared the series of papers afterwards col- \nlected, and subsequently often reprinted, under \nthe title of " Addison\'s Evidences of the Chris- \ntian Religion. \'^ In his latter years he pro- \njected a paraphrastical version of the Psalms \nof David, of which he gave a beautiful speci- \nmen in his metrical translation of Psalm xxiii: \n" The Lord my pasture shall prepare,\'\' &c. \nBut a long and painful illness prevented the \ncompletion of this pious design; and it is to \nbe regretted, as the few compositions of this \nkind which he has left us exhibit proofs of \nhis piety, and his competency for the under- \ntaking. \n\nDr. Johnson, in delineating his character as \na writer, gives the following amiable picture \nof him : \xe2\x80\x94 \n\n\'\' He employed wit on the side of virtue and \nreligion. He not only made the proper use of \nwit himself, but taught it to others ; and from \nhis time it has been generally subservient to \n\n\n\nJOSEPH ADDISON. 157 \n\nthe cause of reason and truth. He has dissi- \npated the prejudice that had long connected \ncheerfulness with vice, and easiness of man- \nners with laxity of principles. He has re- \nstored virtue to its dignity, and taught inno- \ncence not to be ashamed. This is an elevation \nof literary character, above all Greek, above \nall Eoman fame. As a teacher of wisdom, he \nmay be confidently followed. His religion \nhas nothing in it enthusiastic, or supersti- \ntious ; he appears neither weakly, credulous, \nnor wantonly sceptical ; his morality is neither \ndangerously lax, nor impracticably rigid. All \nthe enchantments of fancy, and all the co- \ngency of argument, are employed to recom- \nmend to the reader his real interest, the care \nof pleasing the Author of his being.\'\' \n\nMr. Addison, a man of most exquisite taste, \nwas a great admirer of the Scriptures. \'\' Af- \nter perusing the book of Psalms,\'\' says he, \n** let a judge of the beauties of poetry read a \nliteral translation of Horace or Pindar, and \nhe will find in these two last such an absur- \ndity and confusion of style, with such a com- \nparative poverty of imagination, as will make \nhim sensible of the vast superiority of Scrip- \nture style." \n\nAs he drew near to the close of life, he was \nsustained by the Cliristian\'s joys and by the \n\n\n\n168 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nChristian\'s hopes. His future existence he \ncontemplated with delight. In his earlier and \nmore prosperous days, he had said in regard \nto the immortality of the soul : \xe2\x80\x94 " If it is a \ndream let me enjoy it ; since it makes me both \nthe happier and the better man.\'\' Now that \nthis scene approaches nearer, he says : " The \nprospects of a future state is the secret com- \nfort and refreshment of my soul. It is that \nwhich makes nature look cheerful about me ; \nit doubles all my pleasures, and supports me \nunder all my afflictions. I can look at disap- \npointments and misfortunes, pain and sick- \nness, death itself, with indifference, so long as \nI keep in view the pleasures of eternity, and \nthe state of being in which there will be no \nfears nor apprehensions, pains nor sorrows." \n\nJust before his departure, having sent for a \nyoung nobleman nearly related to him, who \nrequested to know his dying commands,- \xe2\x80\x94 his \nanswer was : \xe2\x80\x94 " See in what peace a Christian \ncan die." \n\nGENERAL REMARKS. \n\nIn looking over a biographical sketch of Sir \nIsaac Newton, I find the following brief re- \n^ marks : \xe2\x80\x94 " How great and satisfactory a con- \nfirmation is it to the sincere, humble Chris- \ntian, and what an unsurmountable barrier \n\n\n\nJOSEPH ADDISON. 159 \n\ndoes it present to the infidel, to perceive in \nthe list of Christian believers, the exalted and \nvenerable names of Bacon, Boyle, Locke, New- \nton, Addison, and Lyttleton ! \xe2\x80\x94 men who must \nbe acknowledged to be ornaments of human \nnature, when we consider the wide compass of \ntheir abilities, the great extent of their learn- \ning and knowledge, and the piety, integrity, \nand beneficence of their lives. These eminent \ncharacters firmly adhered to the belief of \nChristianity, after the most diligent and ex- \nact researches into the life of its Founder, \nthe authenticity of its records, the completion \nof its prophecies, the sublimity of its doc- \ntrines, the purity of its precepts, and the argu- \nments of its adversaries/^ \n\nThese sketches were first intended mainly \nfor the young, who, whatever else they may \nhave learned, may not have learned that the \nmost eminent men of modern times have been \nthe devoted advocates of Christianity. This \nthe writer of these sketches did not early learn \n\xe2\x80\x94 his attention was not early directed to this \nsubject. But here another direction is given \nto this subject. We are told, that Christian \nbiography may serve as a confirmation of the \nfaith even of " the sincere and humble Qliris- \ntian,^^ To thousands who are destined, in the \norder of Providence, to move in tlie lower \n\n\n\n-^- \n\n\n\n160 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nwalks of life, and perliaps to see pride and \nvice triumpliant, while virtue and unassum- \ning worth pine in lonely and perhaps starv- \ning solitude, \xe2\x80\x94 "to thousands of such, I say, the \nquestion must \xe2\x80\xa2 have presented itself, \xe2\x80\x94 "If \nChristianity is true, Avhy are not those who \ntake the lead in society its advocates T^ Such \nquestions, how natural: "Have any of the \nrulers or the Pharisees believed on him ?\'^ But \nnot such is the language of the prophet : \xe2\x80\x94 \n" Therefore, I say surely these are poor ; they \nare foolish : for they know not the way of the \nLord, nor the judgment of their God. I will \nget me unto the great men, and will speak \nunto them : for they have known the way of \nthe Lord, and the judgment of their God.\'^ \nBut to such as propose this question, these \nsketches say : \xe2\x80\x94 " Those who take the lead in \nmost of the lower circles of society are either \nthose whom the world loves more because the \nworld loves its own, and not because of the pos- \nsession of any learning, talent, or real worth, \n\xe2\x80\x94 or who have devoted their conscience upon \nthe altar of their ambition, and having intel- \nlect enough to learn the truth, still love dark- \nness rather than light beeause their deeds are \neviV^ And these sketches further say to such \ninquirers : \xe2\x80\x94 " Look beyond the narrow circle \nof your own neighbourhood or town, \xe2\x80\x94 look \n\n\n\nJOSEPH ADDISON. Ifil \n\nout upon those who have taken the lead in \ncarrying on all the most important enterprises \nof the world, and whose names stand as bea- \ncon-lights along the path of science \xe2\x80\x94 shining \nbrighter and brighter with the lapse of years ; \nand when you contemplate such a one, there \nyou will find a Christian,^ ^ \n\nLet the young man, or even the old man, \nwho has not had the means of pushing his in- \nquiries among the speculative objections to \nChristianity, or among the speculative evi- \ndences by which it is supported, remember \nthis, that no objection has ever been urged, \nwhich has not been reviewed and fully con- \nfuted by the researches of the wonderful men \nwhose names have been presented in these \nsketches. To him who should say, there have \nbeen infidels and unbelievers, as well as Chris- \ntians, of distinguished intellect, I need only \nanswer: It requires neither research, moral \ncandour, nor a virtuous life, to be an unbeliever \nor an infidel ; for a thinking man to be a \nChristian, it requires them all. Newton used \nto check and silence the infidel, Dr. Halley, \nwhen he ventured to sppak anything in his \npresence disrespectful to religion, by the re- \ninark : " Z have studied these things \xe2\x80\x94 you have \nT^oty If we add to this, that Newtoi;i, in order \nto be a Christian, had to combine with his re- \n\n\n\n162 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nsearch, moral candour and a virtuous life \xe2\x80\x94 \nboth of which are opposed to the natural heart, \nwhich is enmity against God, \xe2\x80\x94 to the honest \ninquirer after truth, his opinions of the Chris- \ntian religion would outweigh those of an hun- \ndred dissolute philosophers, though eminent \nand honoured as was his friend Halley. \n\n\n\nOn recurring to the sketch of Mr. Locke, the \ninquiry naturally arises, whether he stands \nalone as a Christian among the distinguished \nmetaphysicians? \xe2\x80\x94 and the question assumes \na peculiar interest, when we learn that it is \nthe express office of these men ** to detect the \nerrors of thinking, by going back to the foun- \ntains of thought ; and to direct into the proper \ntrack of reasoning the devious mind of man, \nby showing him its whole process from the \nfirst perceptions of sense to the last conclusion \nof ratiocination;\'^ and that it is from the \nprinciples laid down by these men, that all \nthe practical rules for the conduct of the \nhuman judgment are drawn. Locke stands \nnot alone. \n\n\n\nTHOMAS REID. 163 \n\n\n\nDESCARTES \n\n\n\nHas been justly styled the father of mo- \ndern philosophy, and has given it its name. \nEven Cousin says, the Cartesian method has \nbecome the only legitimate method of modern \nphilosophy. He flourished about the begin- \nning of the sixteenth century \xe2\x80\x94 an age of com- \nparative moral darkness. His philosophy, \nhowever, was deeply imbued with theology. \nHe taught, as among the elements of philoso- \nphic investigation, these fundamental truths, \n\xe2\x80\x94 that there is a God, that he is the author \nof nature, and that the soul is immaterial \nand immortal. While I have no evidence of \nhis practical piety, I believe no part of his \nsystem has ever been charged with savouring \nof infidelity. \n\n\n\nTHOMAS REID, D. D., F.R.S., \n\nProfessor of moral philosophy in the Uni- \nversity of Glasgow, was a metaphysician of \ngreat discrimination and of great merit. " His \nopinions of the most important subjects,\'\' says \nMr. Stewart, who has given to the world an \naccount of his life and writings, \'^ arc to be \nfound in his works, and tliat spirit of piety \n\n\n\n164 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nwhich animated every part of his conduct \nforms the best comment on their practical \ntendency/^ \n\n\n\nDUGALD STEWART, \n\nA MAN of wonderful powers of mind, and of \nmost singular excellence of character, was a \nChristian. At the age of nineteen, he was a \nteacher of mathematics in the University of \nEdinburgh. At the age of twenty-five, he \nsuperadded to the duties of his department, \nand that while delivering to his classes for \nthe first time a course of lectures on astro- \nnomy, the temporary charge of the depart- \nment of moral philosophy, which required of \nhim a daily lecture of an hour in length, for \nfive or six successive months. These lectures, \nthough commenced with only four days\' notice, \nand on a new and abstruse subject, and while \nhe was in the full discharge of the arduous \nduties of the mathematical chair, were de- \nlivered with an eloquence and felicity of illus- \ntration rarely equalled in the lecture room. \nAt the age of thirty-two, he succeeded Dr. \nFerguson, as professor of moral philosophy. \n" So extensive,\'\' says a biographer, " was his \nacquaintance with almost every department \nof literature, find so readily did he arrange \n\n\n\nDUGALD STEWART. 165 \n\nhis ideas on any subject, with a view to their \ncommunication to others, that his colleagues \nfrequently, in the event of illness or absence, \navailed themselves of his assistance in the in- \nstruction of their classes. In addition to his \nown academical duties, he repeatedly supplied \nthe place of Dr. John Kobinson, professor of \nnatural philosophy. He taught, for several \nmonths during one winter, the Greek classes \nfor the late Mr. Dalzel ; he more than one \nseason taught the mathematical classes for \nthe late Mr. Playfair ; he delivered some lec- \ntures on logic during an illness of Dr. Finlay- \nson ; and he, one . winter, lectured for some \ntime on belles lettres for the successor of Dr. \nBlair. A man of such learning and of such \npowers could not fail to exert a great influ- \nence; but this influence was all thrown into \nthe scale of Christianity. His writings are \namong the standard works of metaphysical \nscience. He died 1828, aged seventy-four \nyears. \n\n\n\n166 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\n\n\nTHOMAS BROWN, M.D., \n\n\n\nAuthor of the " Lectures on the Philosophy \nof the Human Mind/^ distinguished as an ana- \nlytical philosopher, was a Christian. I find \nthe following short notice of him in the En- \ncyclopaedia of Eeligious Knowledge : \xe2\x80\x94 \n\n" Dr. Thomas Brown, a man eminent as a \nmetaphysician, moral philosopher, and poet, \nwas born at Kirkmabreck, in Scotland, in \n1777, and displayed an early acuteness and \nthirst for knowledge. His first education was \nreceived in the vicinity of London, and was \ncompleted at the University of Edinburgh. \nAt the age of twenty, he wrote a masterly an- \nswer to Darwin\'s Zoonomia. In 1810 he suc- \nceeded Mr. Stewart at Edinburgh, as profes- \nsor of moral philosophy, and soon gained \nuniversal admiration as a lecturer, by his elo- \nquence and talents, and affection by his kind- \nness to the students. Dr. Brown was a pro- \nfessed believer in Christianity ; and though \nhe too seldom adverts to the Bible in his phi- \nlosophical lectures, yet his system of meta- \nphysics and morals approaches nearer to the \nsimplicity and purity of the sacred volume, \nthan that of many professed expounders of it. \nHe has thrown more light on the essential dis- \n\n\n\nSAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE. 167 \n\ntinction between the mind and the body, and \non the mental emotions and associations, than \nperhaps any preceding writer. His brilliant \ncareer was unfortunately cut short by con- \nsumption, on the 2d of April, 1820." \n\n\n\nSAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE, \n\nDistinguished as a metaphysician, not less \nthan as a poet, was a Christian. Witness his \n" Friend," " Aids to Keflection," and " States- \nman\'s Manual," works which display genius \nof the highest order devoted to the service of \nChristianity. \n\nBut these afford not the evidence of his \nChristian character. In the closing scenes \nof his life were exhibited the true spirit of a \nphilosopher, and the hopes and triumphs of \na Christian. His worldly affairs had been \nlong settled, and after many tender adieus, he \nexpressed a wish that he might be as little \ninterrupted as possible. His sufferings were \nsevere and constant till within thirty-six hours \nof his end ; but they had no power to affect \nthe deep tranquillitiy of his mind or the wont- \ned sweetness of his address. His prayer from \nthe beginning was, that God would not with- \ndraw his Spirit ; and that by the way in wliich \nhe should bear the last struggle, he might be \n\n\n\n168 CHRISTIAN BIOGKAPHY. \n\nable to evince the sincerity of his faith in \nChrist.\'/ His prayer was answered, and " be \nsleeps in Jesus/\' \n\n\n\nIn the three preceding articles I have pre- \nsented some of the most distinguished names \nconnected with the history of a particular \nscience ; and we have seen that they were \nChristians. I know not a useful science, the \nresults of the investigation of which would \nnot be the same. Yet that system of arrang- \ning the subjects of ftiese sketches is not per- \nhaps the best to follow. At any rate, we turn \naside from this course for a short time to ex- \namine a small group which constituted a bril- \nliant constellation in the literary heavens of \nEurope near the close of the last century. \n\n\n\nJOSHUA REYNOLDS \n\nWas born July 16, 1723, at Plympton, Devon- \nshire, England. He had very early a strong \npartiality for drawing and painting, and after \nbeing graduated at Oxford vvas placed under \nthe care of the artist Hudson. About 1749 \nhe travelled into Italy, where he improved him- \nself in the Italian school of arts, and chastened \n\n\n\nJOSHUA REYNOLDS. 169 \n\nhis taste by the study of the best productions \nof Roman genius. His fame as a portrait and \nhistorical painter is well known. When the \nEoyal Academy was instituted, in 1768, he \nwas unanimously chosen president, and Avas \nknighted. In 1783 he was appointed principal \npainter to the king. \n\nSir Joshua was not less distinguished as a \nliterary character. He was the active pro- \nmoter of a literary association which was \nformed in 1764, and which numbered among \nits illustrious members the names of Johnson, \nBurke, Garrick, Douglas, Goldsmith, the \nWhartons, &c. His literary works, the princi- \npal of which are the masterly discourses de- \nlivered to the Academy, form three volumes. \nIn these discourses he displayed not only great \ntaste and a perfect acquaintance w^ith his pro- \nfession, but strong powers of language, sound \njudgment, an elegant style, and luminous \norder. His merits did not pass unrewarded. \nHe was created doctor of laws by the universi- \nties of Dublin and Oxford, and was honoured \nwith the friendships of the greatest men of \nthe age, at home and abroad. He resigned \nthe chair of president of the Eoyal Academy, \nand died 23d Feb., 1792, aged sixty-nine. \nHis remains were deposited in St. PauFs Ca- \nthedral, and while his obsequies were graced \n\n\n\n170 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nwith the attendance of men of rank, of genius, \nand learning, the shops through the streets \nwere shut up, so that the funeral of a private \nman engaged the attention of the public, and \nfor a while suspended the busy concerns of the \nfirst commercial city in the world. \n\nSir Joshua was a Christian, and his last ill- \nness was cheered by the spirit of resignation \nand immortal hope. \n\n\n\nSAMUEL JOHNSON \n\nWas born at Lichfield in Staffordshire, Eng- \nland, on the 7th of September, 1709, of ob- \nscure parents, his father being a small book- \nseller, and being destitute of the means for \neducating his son. Under the patronage of a \ngentleman by the name of Corbet he was \nentered at Pembroke College, Oxford, in 1728, \nbeing then in his nineteenth year. His pecu- \nniary resources being cut off, he left Oxford, \nafter a residence of three years, without taking \na degree. He soon commenced writing for the \npublic, and among his earlier prose productions \nare the lives of many distinguished men ; and \nBos well refers to him as one \'\' who excelled all \nmankind in writing the lives of others. ^^ In \n1747, he published the plan of his great Eng- \nlish Dictionary, and the work itself appeared \n\n\n\nSAMUEL JOHNSON. 171 \n\nin 1755. Meantime the Kambler, a semi- \nweekly periodical, written wholly by himself, \nand extending through two years, had been \npublished. This consisted of a series of moral \nand religious essays. \n\nBy this time Johnson had acquired a great \nreputation, and the foundation of his future \nfame was firmly established. In 1755, he re- \nceived the degree of A. M. from the University \nof Oxford ; in 1762, as a mark of his great \nliterary distinction, there was granted him a \npension from the government of X300 per \nannum, and in 1765 he received the degree of \nLL. D. from Trinity College, Dublin. The \nsame honour was subsequently, in 1775, con- \nferred by the University of Oxford. A list of \nhis prose works, as given by Mr. Boswell, fills \nmore than five pages 8vo. \n\nIn regard to his religious character it may \nbe premised that he was early devoted to God \nby his parents, being baptized on the day of \nhis birth. Of his religious experience he gives \nthe following account : \xe2\x80\x94 \n\n" I fell into an inattention to religion or an \nindifference about it in my ninth ye^r. The \nchurch at Lichfield, in which we had a seat, \nwanted reparation, so I was to go* and find a \nseat in other churches ; and having bad eyes \nand being awakened about this, I used to go \n\n\n\n172 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nand read in the fields on Sunday. This habit \ncontinued till my fourteenth year, when I be- \ncame a sort of lax talker against religion, for \nI did not much think against it. And this \nlasted till I went to Oxford, where it would \nnot be suffered. When at Oxford I took up \n* Law\'s Serious Call to a Holy Life,\' expecting \nto find it a dull book, (as such books generally \nare,) and perhaps to laugh at it. But I found \nLaw quite an overmatch for me ; and this was \nthe first occasion of my thinking in earnest of \nreligion after I became capable of rational in- \nquiry.\'\' \n\n" From this time," says his biographer, " re- \nligion was the predominant object of his \nthoughts, though, with the just sentiments of \na conscientious Christian, he lamented that \nhis practice of its duties fell far short of what \nit ought to be." \n\nTo " Law\'s Serious Call" he always alluded \nwith great respect, and even pronounced it \n" the finest piece of hortatory theology in any \nlanguage.\'\' It may not be amiss in passing \nto notice, that this book has called forth no \ncommon^praise even from the sceptical Gibbon. \n" Mr. Law\'s master-work, the \' Serious Call,^ " \nsays he, \'\' is still read as a popular and powerful \nbook of devotion. His precepts are rigid, but \nthey are founded on the gospel ; his satire is \n\n\n\nSAMUEL JOHNSON. 173 \n\nsharp, but it is drawn from the knowledge of \nhuman life ; and many of his portraits are not \nunwortliy of the pen of La Bruyere. If he \nfinds a spark of piety in his reader\'s mind, he \nwill soon kindle it to a flame ; and a philoso- \npher must allow, that he exposes, with equal \nseverity and truth, the strange contradiction \nbetween the faith and practice of the Christian \nworld/\' \n\nThe remark of Dr. Johnson\'s biographer, \nthat from the time of his conversion at Ox- \nford, religion was the predominant object of his \nthoughts, might be illustrated by numerous \nquotations from his writings. The following \nis found in his diary, on his twenty-seventh \nbirth-day .\xe2\x80\x94" Sept. 7, 1736. I have this day \nentered upon my twenty-eighth year. Mayest \nthou, God, enable me, for Jesus Christ\'s sake, \nto spend this in such a manner that I may re- \nceive comfort from it at the hour of death, and \nin the day of judgment ! Amen." And on \nentering upon the publication of his Eambler, \nbefore referred to, he composed and offered up \nthe following prayer, such were the devout and \nconscientious sentiments with which this paper \nwas undertaken : " Almighty God, the giver \nof all good things, without whose help all \nlabour is ineffectual, and without whose grace \nall wisdom is folly, grant, I beseech thee, that \n\n\n\n174 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nin this undertaking thy Holy Spirit may not \nbe withheld from me, but that I may pro- \nmote thy glory, and the salvation of myself \nand others ; grant this, O Lord, for the sake \nof thy Son, Jesus Christ. Amen.^^ Among \nhis writings are some professedly religious. \nOne work is entitled " On Vicarious Punish- \nments, and the Great Propitiation for the sins \nof the world by Jesus Christ.^^ Another con- \nsists entirely of " Prayers and Meditations.^^ \n\nDr. Johnson inherited a strong predisposi- \ntion to morbid melancholy, which exhibited \nitself during his whole life, among other ways, \nin a great and unconquerable dread of death. \nHe once said, " I never had a moment in which \ndeath was not terrible to me. When, how- \never, this great man actually approached dis- \nsolution " all his fears were calmed and ab- \nsolved by the prevalence of his faith, and his \ntrust in the merits and propitiation of Jesus \nChrist.^^ He was full of resignation, strong \nin faith, joyful in hope of his own salvation, \nand anxious for the salvation of his friends. \n" God bless you, my dear,\'^ \xe2\x80\x94 addressed to a \nyoung lady, the daughter of a particular \nfriend \xe2\x80\x94 were the last words he was heard to \nspeak. \n\n\n\nEDMUND BURKE. 175 \n\n\n\nEDMUND BURKE. \n\nOf the general character of the subject of this \nsketch, whose name fills so large a space both \nin the political and literary annals of Great \nBritain, little need be said. He was born at \nDublin, Jan. 1, 1730, and died July 8, 1797. \nIn his political career, he was a member of \nparliament, pay-master general, and a mem- \nber of the council. He made a strenuous and \neloquent resistance to the impolitic contest \nwith America ; and his Reflections on the \nFrench Revolution, published in 1790, ex- \nhibited his foresight of the result, and his \nhostility to the doctrines of that infatuated \nnation. His compositions have been collected \nin sixteen volumes 8vo. \n\nThe following tribute is from the Encyclo- \npaedia of Eeligious Knowledge : \xe2\x80\x94 \n\n" In private life Burke was amiable and be- \nnevolent ; in public, indefatigable, ardent, and \nabhorrent of meanness and injustice. It was \nthis latter quality which rendered him a per- \nsevering advocate of the Irish Catholics. As \nan orator, he ranks among the first of modern \ntimes ; and as a writer, whether we consider \nthe splendour of his diction, the richness and \nvariety of his imagery, or the boundless stores \n\n\n\n176 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nof knowledge which he displays, it must be ac- \nknowledged that there are few who equal and \nnone who transcend him. Burke was a sin- \ncere believer in Christianity, and his noble \nmind was moulded and elevated by its pure \nand generous sentiments. Unlike some of his \ngreatest contemporaries, he made neither the \nbottle nor the dice his household deities ; he \nhad no taste for pursuits that kill time rather \nthan pass it \xe2\x80\x94 * I have no time,^ said he, * to \nbe idle.\' His fame is spotless. Although in \nthe judgment of the world he was the greatest \nstatesman and orator of his own and perhaps \nof any age, his humility was even more rare \nand remarkable than his genius. He declined \nthe honour of an interment in the great na- \ntional receptacle of illustrious men, Westmin- \nster Abbey, and even forbade it in his will, \nassigning as his reason, " I have had in my \nlife but too much of noise and compliment.\' \nTo the approach of death he submitted with a \ncalm and Christian resignation, undisturbed \nby a murmur, hoping, as he said, to obtain the \ndivine mercy through the intercession of a \nblessed Eedeemer, Avhich (in his own words) \n\' he had long sought with unfeigned humilia- \ntion, and to which he looked with a trembling \nhope.\' The first clause in his will marks, in \na manner equally striking,his deliberate views \n\n\n\nEDMUND BURKE. 177 \n\nand deepest feelings on this great subject, and \nis a sort of testamentary witness to the world \nof the truth and value of the gospel of Christ. \n* According to the ancient, good, and laudable \ncustom, of which my heart and understanding \nrecognise the propriety, I bequeath my soul to \nGod, hoping for his mercy only through the \nmerits of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. \nMy body I desire to be buried in the church \nat Beaconsfield, near the bodies of my dearest \nbrother and my dearest son, in all humility \npraying, that as we have lived in perfect unity \ntogether, we may together have a part in the \nresurrection of the just.\' \n\n" There never was a more beautiful alliance \nbetween virtue and talents. All his concep- \ntions were grand, all his sentiments generous. \nThe great leading trait of his character, and \nthat which gave it all its energy and its colour, \nwas that strong hatred of vice which is no \nother than the passionate love of virtue. It \nbreathes in all his writings ; it was the guide \nof all his actions. But even the force of his \neloquence was insufficient to transfuse it into \nthe weaker or perverted minds of his contem- \nporaries. Mr. Burke was too superior to the \nage in which he lived.\'\' \n12 \n\n\n\n178 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\n\n\nJAMES NECKEK \n\nThis great statesman lived in the same age \nwith Edmund Burke, the subject of my last \nsketch ; and though his fortune was cast in in- \niidel France, he has been compared, for the \npurity of his principles and the integrity of his \ncharacter, with that great English statesman. \nThe following sketch is from the Encyclopaedia \nof Eeligious Knowledge : \xe2\x80\x94 \n\n** James Necker, an eminent financier and \nreligious statesman, the father of Madame de \nStael, was born in 1732, at Geneva, and for \nmany years carried on the business of a \nbanker at Paris. His eulogy on Colbert, his \ntreatise on the Corn laws and Trade, and \nsome essays on the Eesources of France, in- \nspired such an idea of his talents for finance, \nthat in 1776 he was appointed director of the \ntreasury, and shortly after controller-gene- \nral. Before his resignation, in 1781, he pub- \nlished a statement of his operations, addressed \nto the king ; and, while in retirement, he pro- \nduced a work on the Administration of the \nFinances, and another on the Importance of \nEeligious Opinions. The latter work, not- \nwithstanding some imperfections, is worthy of \nimmortality. It has been translated into \n\n\n\nJAMES NECKER. 179 \n\nEnglish. He was re-installed in the con- \ntroUership in 1788, and advised the convoca- \ntion of the states general ; was abruptly dis- \nmissed, and ordered to quit the kingdom, in \nJuly, 1789, but was almost instantly recalled, \non account of the ferment which his departure \nexcited in the public mind. Necker, however, \nsoon became as much an object of antipathy \nto the fickle people as he had been of their \nidolatry, and in 1790 he left France forever. \nM. Necker was a decided Protestant, and \nworthy of better treatment than papal and in- \nfidel France was disposed to give him. In \n1798, he published a work of much interest \non the French Ee volution ; and in 1800, his \nlast great and eloquent work on the Eeligious \nView of Morality, in three volumes. Necker \nand Burke belong to the same class of men. \nHe died at Copet, in Switzerland, in 1804. \nThe whole of his works form fifteen volumes." \n\n\n\n180 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI. \n\nPERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY \xe2\x80\x94 ^EDMUND SPENSER \xe2\x80\x94 SIR PHILIP SID- \nNEY\xe2\x80\x94JOHN MILTON JOHN DENHAM WENTWORTH DIL- \nLON \xe2\x80\x94 JOHN, EARL OF ROCHESTER ABRAHAM COWLEY \n\nEDMUND WALLER \xe2\x80\x94 JOHN PHILLIPS MATTHEW PRIOR \xe2\x80\x94 \n\nNICHOLAS ROWE ALEXANDER POPE JAMES THOMSON \xe2\x80\x94 \n\nWILLIAM COLLINS \xe2\x80\x94 WILLIAM COWPER \xe2\x80\x94 ^JAMES BEATTIE \n\nWILLIAM WORDSWORTH \xe2\x80\x94 WALTER SCOTT \xe2\x80\x94 EDMUND SMITH \nWILLIAM KING CHARLES MONTAGUE, EARL OF HALI- \nFAX ^JOHN HUGHES SIR RICHARD BLACKMORE ELIJAH \n\nFENTON NICHOLAS BOILEAU ^FENELON. \n\nIt has been said, " the sweetest poets that \nhave ever sung have been Christians/\' And \nis it so ? I doubt not but some have heard so \nmuch of Byron and Shelley, (almost the only \ninfidel English poets whose names are on re- \ncord,) as to come to the conclusion, that all \nthe master poets of the world have been scep- \ntics and unbelievers. I propose to present the \nreader with sketches of some of the Christian \npoets ; but first I am disposed to present a \nshort notice of one of these sons of song, \nadmired by the atheist and the freethinker \xe2\x80\x94 \na notice too which will present a scene in \nwhich the other also acts a part. We some- \ntimes get a stronger view of truth, or of moral \nbeauty, by contrast. \n\n\n\nPERCY BYSSIIE SHELLEY. 181 \n\n\n\nPERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY \n\nWas the eldest son of Sir Timothy Shelley, \nof Sussex, England. At the age of thirteen, \nhe was sent to Eaton, and at sixteen, to the \nUniversity of Oxford, where he soon dis- \ntinguished himself by the publication of a \npamphlet entitled, \'* The necessity of Athe- \nism ;^\' for which he was expelled from the \nuniversity. He soon left his father\'s house \nfor London, where he eloped with a lady \nyounger than himself, with whom he took up \nhis residence in Edinburgh for a time, and \nafterwards passed over to Ireland. On form- \ning this connexion, his father broke off all \ncommunication with his son ; and after the \nbirth of two children, the young couple sepa- \nrated, as is said, " by mutual consent,^\' upon \nwhich Mrs. Shelley committed suicide. \n\nShelley then married again ; after which \nhis atheism and irreligion became so notori- \nous, that his children were taken from him by \na decree of the lord chancellor. He soon quit \nEngland for Switzerland, where he formed an \nintimate acquaintance with Byron, after he \ntoo had changed his native land, and had be- \ncome a wanderer from his friends, as well as \nfrom all the restraints of virtue. But their \n\n\n\n182 CHRISTIAN BIOaRAPHY. \n\nfriendship was broken by the early death of \nShelley. And how did he die ? " He returned \nfrom Pisa to Leghorn, for the purpose of \ntaking a sea excursion \xe2\x80\x94 an amusement to \nwhich he was much attached. During a vio- \nlent storm the boat was swamped, and the \nparty on board were all drowned." After \nreading this, which is all the information I \nhave on the subject, I feel assured, that the \nthoughtful reader will pause, and still inquire \nwith himself, \xe2\x80\x94 -How did he die ? \n\nOf what became of his body, we have a \nmore full account. A party, of whom Byron \nwas one, afterwards found his body partly de- \ncomposed on the shore. They determined to \nburn the remains ; and, as if in contempt of \nChristianity, they combined with this heathen \nceremony whatever of heathen rites could, in \ntheir estimation, dignify the scene ; and thus \npoured upon the burning body what they \ncalled " franhineense and wine." The burn- \ning over, and the ashes gathered up, they \ndined, they drank to intoxication, and as they \nreturned to Leghorn, the quiet stillness of the \nItalian night was broken by the shouts of \ntheir drunken midnight revelry. But lest I \nshould be thought to exaggerate, I will give \nyou the whole from GaWs Life of Byron : \xe2\x80\x94 \n\n" Mr. Shelley\'s body was found near Via \n\n\n\nPERCY BYSSIIE SHELLEY. 183 \n\nRiggio, and, being greatly decomposed, and \nunfit to be removed, it was determined to re- \nduce the remains to ashes, that they might \nbe carried to a place of sepulture. Accord- \ningly preparations were made for the burning. \nWood in abundance was found on the shore, \nconsisting of old trees and the Avreck of ves- \nsels : the spot itself was well suited for the \nceremony. The magnificent bay of Spezia \nwas on the right, and Leghorn on the left, at \nequal distances of about two-and-twenty miles. \nThe headlands project boldly far into the sea ; \nin front lie several islands, and behind dark \nforests and the cliffy Apennines. Nothing \nwas omitted that could exalt and dignify the \nmournful rites with the associations of classic \nantiquity \xe2\x80\x94 frankincense and wine were not \nforgotten. The weather was serene and beau- \ntiful, and the pacified ocean was silent, as the \nflame rose with extraordinary brightness. \nLord Byron was present ; but he should him- \nself have desci*ibed the scene, and what he \nfelt. \n\n" These antique obsequies were undoubted- \nly affecting ; but the return of the mourners \nfrom the burning is the most appalling orgia, \nwithout the honour of crime, of which I have \nover heard. When the duty was done, and \nthe ashes collected, they dined and drank. \n\n\n\n184 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nmuch together, and bursting from the calm \nmastery with which they had repressed their \nfeelings during the solemnity, gave way to \nfrantic exultation. They were all drunk ; \nthey sung, they shouted, and their barouche \nwas driven like a whirlwind through the forest. \nI can conceive nothing descriptive of the de- \nmoniac revelry of that flight, but scraps of \nthe dead man\'s own song of Faust, Me- \nphistophiles, and Ignis Fatuus, in alternate \nchorus.\'\' \n\nBeing a man myself, I would fain have \nkept back this horrid picture of human de- \npravity. But I wished to present a sketch \nfrom nature, of the weakness of human philo- \nsophy, and to show by facts how despicable \nand mean is man at his best estate, when he \nhas broken away from the restraints of reli- \ngion. Long as this sketch is, I am willing \nthe sceptic should cull from it any flower he \ncan find, to twine about the brow of an infidel \nphilosophy ! \n\n\n\nOne of the limitations which I prescribed to \nmyself when I undertook to furnish these \nsketches, should be borne in mind, which is, \nthat no clergymen are to be noticed. I am \n^ aware that this excludes from the catalogue \n\n\n\nCHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. 185i \n\nof high names which I am presenting, some \nwho best deserve a place in it. What depart- \nment of literature or of science has not been \nadvanced by clergymen? What station of \nhonour has not been nobly filled \xe2\x80\x94 ^what place \nof active benevolence has not been usefully \noccupied by clergymen? Among the poetSy \nBlair, who wrote " The Graved and Watts, \nand Young, and the Wesleys, and Heber, and \nWhite \xe2\x80\x94 and how many more I know not, \nwere clergymen. \n\nWhite\\s poetic talents called forth a noble \ntribute even from Byron himself. But we \npass them by ; their poetry is associated with \nthe best feelings of our nature, and their \nnames need no record, but in our hearts. \n\nMany of the poets too have been distin- \nguished in other departments of literature, or \nhave filled stations of honour in their day ; so \nthat their names have been already called up \nby other associations. Addison, and Lyttle- \nton, and West, and Coleridge \xe2\x80\x94 all distin- \nguished as foeU \xe2\x80\x94 have already been noticed \nin these sketches. And the living poets also \xe2\x80\x94 \nhow few of them are not devoted to the cause \nof morality and virtue ! But here, too, we find \nanother limit set to our work. We have con- \nfined ourselves to sketching the dead and not \nthe living. To our work then. \n\n\n\n186 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\n\n\nEDMUND SPENSER. \n\n\n\nSpenser was one of England\'s four most \neminent poets. The others are Chaucer, \nShakspeare, and Milton. Qhaucer^ who has \nbeen called " the day star and the father of \nEnglish poetry/\' has left the record of his at- \ntachment to Christianity, in the exile and \nimprisonment he suffered for his adherence \nto the doctrines of Wiclif. The defects in \nShakspeare^ B character, are read in the blem- \nishes which everywhere mar the beauty of his \nnoble productions. And of Milton we shall \nspeak hereafter. \n\n" Our celebrated Spenser P says Simpson, \n*\' though a man of dissipation in his youth, in \nhis more advanced years entered into the in- \nterior of religion, and in the two hymns on \n*\' Heavenly Love and Heavenly Beauty, ^^ has \nexpressed all the height and depth of Chris- \ntian experience : \xe2\x80\x94 \n\n" Then slialt thou feel thy spirit so possest, \nAnd ravish^i with devouring great desire \nOf his dear self, that shall thy feeble breast \nInflame with love, and set thee all on fire \nWith burning zeal, through every part entire, \nThat in no earthly thing thou shalt delight, \nBut in his sweet and amiable sight. \n\n\n\nSIR PHILIP SIDNEY. 187 \n\nThen shall thy ravished soul inspired be \nWith heavenly thoughts, far above human skill, \nAnd thy bright radiant eyes shall plainly see \nThe idea of his pure glory present still \nBefore thy face, that all thy spirits shall fill \nWith sweet enragement of celestial love, \nKindled through sight of those fair things above/\' \n\n" Spenser\'s religion, we see from the above \nextracts, is a religion of feeling. This too \nis unquestionably the religion of the Bible. \n\' Whom having not seen, ye love ; in whom, \nthough now ye see him not, yet believing, ye \nrejoice with joy unspeakable and full of \nglory.\' " \n\nHe died in 1598, and was interred in West- \nminster Abbey, near Chancey. \n\n\n\nSIR PHILIP SIDNEY \n\nWas a friend and patron of Spenser. He was \nalso a poet of great power of thought and de- \nscription ; and is described by the writers of \nthat age as the most perfect model of an ac- \ncomplished gentleman that could be formed \neven in imagination. He possessed fine tal- \nents, was well educated, and at the age of \ntwenty-one was sent by Queen Elizabeth, as \nher ambassador, to the Emperor of Germany, \nWhen dying of a wound received at the bat- \ntle of Zutphen, ho took leave of his brotlior in \n\n\n\n188 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nthese words : " Love my memory ; cherish my \nfriends.; but above all, govern your will and \naffections by the will and affections of your \nCreator. In me behold the end of this world, \nwith all her vanity/^ \n\nWhat attention he had paid to religion dur- \ning his life, I know not ; it seems that at life\'s \nclose, he became serious and thoughtful. \nMay the gay or careless reader become \nthoughtful, before that dark hour shall come \nupon him ! \n\n\n\nJOHN MILTON \n\nWas born in London, 1608, and is perhaps \nthe most renowned of English poets. His \nchief production is the Paradise Lost ; and of \nthis immortal work Dr. Johnson has said : \n" Here is a full display of the united force of \nstudy and genius ; of a great accumulation of \nmaterials with judgment to digest, and fancy \nto combine them. Milton was able to select \nfrom nature or from story, from ancient fable \nor from modern science, whatever could illus- \ntrate or adorn his thoughts, \xe2\x80\x94 an accumula- \ntion of knowledge, impregnated by mind, fer- \nmented by study, and sublimed by imagina- \ntion.^\' He adds : " Milton seems to have been \nwell acquainted with his own genius, and to \n\n\n\nJOHN MILTON. 189 \n\nknow what it was that nature had bestowed \non him \xe2\x80\x94 more than on others \xe2\x80\x94 the power of \ndisplaying the vast, illuminating the splendid, \ndarkening the gloomy, and aggravating the \ndreadful. The characteristic quality of his \npoem is sublimity. He sometimes descends \nto the elegant, but his element is the great. \nHe can occasionally invest himself with grace, \nbut his natural post is gigantic loftiness. He \ncan please when pleasure is required ; but it \nis his peculiar power to astonish.^^ \nAddison says : \xe2\x80\x94 \n\n** Whatever Ms pen describes I more than see, \nWhilst every verse, array M in majesty, \nBold and sublime, my whole attention draws, \nAnd seems above the critic^s nicer laws. \nHow are you struck with terror and delight, \nWhen angel with archangel copes in fight ! \nWhen great Messiah^s outspread banner shines, \nHow does the chariot rattle in his lines ! \nWhat sound of brazen wheels, what thunders, scare \nAnd stun the reader with the din of war ! \nWith fear my spirits and my blood retire. \nTo see the seraphs sunk in clouds of fire ; \nBut when, with eager steps, from hence I rise, \nAnd view the first gay scenes of Paradise^ \nWhat tongue, what words of rapture can express \nA vision so profuse of pleasantness ?^\' \n\nMilton had a full conviction of the truth of \nChristianity ; and most of his writings are of \na religious character. And, indeed, the spirit \n\n\n\n190 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nwitli which he undertook the Paradise Lost, \nmay be seen in the following remarks. After \npromising to undertake something \xe2\x80\x94 he yet \nknows not what \xe2\x80\x94 that may be of use and \nhonour to his country, he says : \'\' This is not \nto be obtained but by devout prayer to that \neternal Spirit that can enrich with all utter- \nance and knowledge, and sends out his sera- \nphim with the hallowed fire of his altar, to \ntouch and purify the lips of whom he pleases. \nTo this must be added, industrious and select \nreading, steady observation, and insight into \nall seemly and generous arts and affairs ; till \nwhich in some measure be compassed, I refuse \nnot to sustain this expectation.^^ \n\nMilton regarded the Holy Scriptures with \nthe most profound veneration. He says : \n*\' There are no songs comparable to the songs \nof Zion, no orations equal to those of the \nprophets, and no politics like to those which \nthe Scriptures teach. \'^ \n\nIt was with the sublime character of such \nmen as Milton in view, that Cowper penned \nthese lines: \xe2\x80\x94 \n\n" Piety lias found \nFriends in the friends of science, and true prayer \nHas flowed from lips wet with Castalian dews. \nSuch was thy wisdom, Neivton, child-like sage ! \nSagacious reader of the works of God, \nAnd in his ivord sagacious. Such, too, thine, \n\n\n\nWENTWOKTH DILLON. 191 \n\nMilton, whose genius had angelic wings, \nAnd fed on manna. And such thine, in whom \nOur British Themis gloried with just cause, \nImmortal Hale I for deep discernment praised, \nAnd sound integrity, not more than formed \nFor sanctity of manners undefiled/\' \n\n\n\nSIR JOHN DENHAM, \n\nSays Johnson, " is deservedly considered one \nof the fathers of English poetry/\' The same \nwriter has said : " He appears, whenever any \nserious question comes before him, to have \nbeen a man of piety. He consecrated his \npoetical powers to religion, and made a metri- \ncal version of the Psalms of David/\' His \npoetical fame rests chiefly on his Cooper^ s Hill \n\nWENTWORTH DILLON, \n\nEarl of Koscommon, acquired his poetic fame \nmainly by his translations ; but these pos- \nsessed such uncommon excellence, as to call \nforth from Addison this deserved compli- \nment : \xe2\x80\x94 \n\n" Nor must Roscommon pass neglected by, \nThat makes even rules a noble poetry \xe2\x80\x94 \nRules whose deep sense and heavenly numbers show \nThe best of critics, and of poets too/\' \n\nIndeed, he is perhaps the only correct writer \nof verse before Addison\'s time ; and Poi>e has \n\n\n\n192 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\ncelebrated him as the only moral writer of \nKing Charles\'s reign : \xe2\x80\x94 \n\n" Unhappy Dryden ! in all Charles\'s days \nRoscommon only boasts unspotted lays.\'\' \n\nThese poets both lived in a licentious and a \ntrifling age \xe2\x80\x94 the age of Buckingh am. Though \nbelievers, their piety was not strongly marked. \nThe latter of these noblemen especially did \nnot die as a pious man ought to die. At the \nmoment in which he expired, he uttered, with \nan energy of voice that expressed the most \nfervent devotion, two lines of his own version \nof " Dies Irae :^^ \xe2\x80\x94 \n\n" My God, my Father, and my Friend, \nDo not forsake me in my end.\'\' \n\nHe died in 1684, and was buried with great \npomp in Westminster Abbey. But what \nmockery is the pomp of a burial, compared \nwith the triumph which often marks the \nChristianas dying hour ! I would rather have \nmy bones thrown out, with those of Wiclif, \nupon a dung-hill, than have the world in \ndoubt whether I were to have a part in the \nfirst resurrection. \n\n\n\nJOHN, EARL OF ROCHESTER. 193 \n\n\n\nJOHN, EARL OF ROCHESTER. \n\nJohn Wilmot, afterwards Earl of Eochester, \nwas born April 10, 1647, in Oxfordshire, Eng- \nland. After a grammatical education at the \nschool of Burford, he entered a nobleman into \nWadham College, in 1G59, at twelve years of \nage ; and in 1661, at fourteen, was, with some \nother persons of high rank, made master of \narts, by Lord Clarendon, in person. \n\nHis poetical fame has given him a place in \nJohnson\'s \'\' Lives of the English Poets,\'\' and \nHazlitt, in his critical list of British Poets, \ncommends his wit, when he remarks, that \n" his verses cut and sparkle like diamonds." \n\nEochester flourislied in the reign of King \nCharles, Avith whom he was a great favourite. \nThis was a corrupt and licentious period in \nEnglish history, and Dr. Johnson has well de- \npicted its influence on this accomplished young \nnobleman. \n\n" He had very early an inclination to in- \ntemperance, which he totally subdued in his \ntravels ; but, when he became a courtier, he \nunhappily addicted himself to dissolute and \nvicious company, by which his p!:inciples were \ncorrupted, and his inanners depraved. He \nlost all sense of religious restraint, and, lind- \n\n13 \n\n\n\n194 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\niiig it not convenient to admit the authority \nof laws which he was resolved not to obey, \nsheltered his wickedness behind infidelity. \nAs he excelled in that noisy and licentious \nmerriment which wine excites, his companions \neagerly encouraged him in excess, and he will- \ningly indulged it, till, as he confessed to Dr. \nBurnet, he w^as for five years together con- \ntinually drunk, or so much inflamed by fre- \nquent ebriety, as in no interval to be master \nof himself Thus, in a course of drunken \ngayety and gross sensuality, with intervals of \nstudy perhaps yet more criminal, with an \navowed contempt of all decency and order, a \ntotal disregard of every moral, and a resolute \ndenial of every religious obligation, he lived \nworthless and useless, and blazed out his youth \nand his health in lavish voluptuousness, till, \nat the age of one-and-thirty, he had exhausted \nthe fund of life, and reduced himself to a state \nof weakness and decay.^^ \n\nSo much for his course of sin. But I can- \nnot avoid delaying here long enough to in- \nquire what would be gained to the cause of \ninfidelity, if, instead of being able to record \nhis reformation, and thus to set him down as a \nChristian, he had persevered in his atheism \nand his drunkenness, and thus added to a \nlife of vice and of wretchedness, a death of \n\n\n\nJOHN, EARL OF ROCHEvSTER. llJo \n\nhorror and of woes? Yet tliis is the only \ndifference between the case under considera- \ntion, and that of most of those who die, as well \nas live, in unbelief. \n\nAt this time he became acquainted with \nBishop Burnet, through whose instrumentality \nhe was reclaimed from his errors, became a \nbeliever in the truths of Christianity, and \nsubmitted to be saved by faith in Jesus Christ. \nAfter it had pleased God to fill his mind with \npeace and joy in believing, he would say : " O \nblessed God, can such a horrid creature as I \nam be accepted by thee, who have denied thy \nbeing, and contemned thy power ? Can there \nbe mercy and pardon for me ? Will God own \nsuch a wretch as I am?^\' And during a fit of \nsickness that ensued, he said : " Shall the un- \nspeakable joys of heaven be conferred on me ? \nO mighty Saviour, never but through thine \ninfinite love and satisfaction ! O never, but \nby the purchase of thy blood V^ Adding, *\' That \nwith all abhorrence he reflected upon his \nformer life, that from his heart he repented \nof all that folly and madness of which he had \nbeen guilty. ^^ \n\nOne of his companions coming to see him \non his death-bed, he said to him : " O remem- \nber that you contemn God no more. He is an \navenging God, and will visit you for your sins; \n\n\n\n196 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nand will, I hope, in mercy toucli your con- \nscience, sooner or later, as lie has done mine. \nYou and I have been friends and sinners to- \ngether a great while, therefore I am the more \nfree with you. We have been all mistaken in \nour conceits and opinions ; our persuasions \nhave been false and groundless ; therefore I \npray God grant you repentance/^ \n\nWhen he drew towards the last stage of \nsickness, he said : \'^ If God should spare me \nyet a little longer time here, I hope to bring \nglory to his name, proportionable to the dis- \nhonour I have done to him in my whole past \nlife, and particularly by my endeavours to con- \nvince others, and to assure them of the danger \nof their condition, if they continue impenitent, \nand to tell them how graciously God hath \ndealt with me.\'^ \n\nAnd when he came within still nearer views \nof dissolution, about three or four days before \nit, he said : " I shall now die ; but O ! what \nunspeakable glories do I see ! What joys, be- \nyond thought or expression, am I sensible of ! \nI am assured of God\'s mercy to me, through \nJesus Christ ! O, how I long to die, and to be \nwith my Saviour V\' \n\nFor the admonition of others, and to undo, \nas much as was in his power, the mischief of \nhis former conduct, he subscribed the follow- \n\n\n\nJOHN, EARL OF ROCHESTER. 197 \n\ning recantation, and ordered it to be published \nafter his death : \xe2\x80\x94 \n\n\'\' For the benefit of all those whom I may \nhave drawn into sin, by my example and en- \ncouragement, I leave to the world this my last \ndeclaration, which I deliver in the presence of \nthe great God, who knows the secrets of all \nhearts, and before whom I am now appearing \nto be judged: that from the bottom of my soul \nI detest and abhor the whole course of my \nformer wicked life ; that I think I can never \nsufficiently admire the goodness of God, who \nhas given me a true sense of my pernicious \nopinions and vile practices, by which I have \nhitherto lived without hope and without God \nin the world, have been an open enemy to \nJesus Christ, doing the utmost despite to the \nHoly Spirit of grace ; and that the greatest \ntestimony of my charity to such is to warn \nthem in the name of God, as they regard the \nwelfare of their immortal souls, no more to \ndeny his being or his providence, or despise his \ngoodness ; no more to make a mock of sin, or \ncontemn the pure and excellent religion of \nmy ever-blessed Eedeemer, through whose \nmerits alone, I, one of the greatest of sinners, \ndo yet hope for mercy and forgiveness. Amen/\' \n\nThus died, in the thirty-third year of liis \nage, the celebrated Earl of Rochester. \n\n\n\n198 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\n\n\nABRAHAM COWLEY \n\n\n\nWxA.s born in the city of London, in 1618. \nHazlitt says, *\' Cowley is a writer of great \nsense, ingenuity, and learning/^ Felton says, \nthat \'* Cowley was beloved by every muse that \nhe courted ; and that he has rivalled the an- \ncients in every kind of poetry but tragedy.\'^ \nAnd Johnson says : \'\'It may be affirmed, with- \nout any encomiastic fervour, that he brought \nto his poetic labours a mind replete with learn- \ning, and that his pages are embellished with \nall the ornaments which books could supply ; \nthat he was the first who imparted to English \nnumbers the enthusiasm of the greater ode, \nand the gayety of the less ; that he was equally \nqualified for sprightly sallies, and for lofty \nflights ; that he Avas among those who freed \ntranslation from servility, and instead of fol- \nlowing his author at a distance, walked by his \nside ; and that if he left versification yet im- \nprovable, he left likewise from time to time \nsuch specimens of excellence as enabled suc- \nceeding poets to improve it/^ Sprat, his bio- \ngrapher, says : ^\' In his Latin poems he has \nexpressed to admiration all the numbers of \nverses and figures of poetry that are scattered \nup and down among the ancients. There is \n\n\n\nABRAHAM COWLEY. 199 \n\nhardly to be found in them all any good \nfashion of speech, or colour of measure, but \nhe has comprehended it and given instances \nof it, according as his several arguments re- \nquired either a majestic spirit, or a passionate, \nor a pleasant. This is the more extraordinary \nin that it was never yet performed by any \nsingle poet of the ancient Romans themselves.\'^ \nAddison, and a host of others, have bestowed \non his productions similar praise. \n\nAmong his writings is a \'\' Sacred Poem of \nthe Troubles of David, in four books,\'\' Avhich, \nhad he lived, he intended to have extended to \ntwelve books, thus forming a complete epic. \nAnd we have his opinion of the Bible, where \nhe says, \'\' All the books of the Bible are either \nalready most admirable and exalted pieces of \npoetry, or are the best materials in the world \nfor it> \n\nSome seven or eight years before his death, \n" at a time," says his biographer, \'\'when, if any \nambitious or covetous thoughts had remained \nin his mind, he might justly have expected to \nhave them readily satisfied, he gave over all \npursuit of honour and riclies, and went into \nretirement. During this recess his mind was \nrather exercised on what was to come, tlian \nwhat was past ; he suffered no more business \nnor cares of life to come near liim, than what \n\n\n\n200 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nwere enougli to keep his soul awake, but uot \nvto disturb it. Some few friends and books, \na cheerful heart and innocent conscience, were \nhis constant companions. His poetry, indeed, \nhe took with him, but he made that an ancho- \nrite, as well as himself; he only dedicated it \nto the service of his Maker, to describe the \ngreat images of religion and virtue, wherewith \nhis mind abounded.^^ \n\n*\' His body was attended to Westminster \nAbbey by a great number of persons of the \nmost eminent quality, and followed with the \npraises of all good and learned men. It lies \nnear the ashes of Chaucer and Spenser, the \ntwo most famous English poets of former \ntimes. But whoever would do him right, \nshould not only equal him to the principal \nancient writers of our own nation, but should \nalso rank his name among the authors of true \nantiquity, the best of the Greeks and Eomans. \nThe king was pleased to bestow on him the \nbest epitaph, when, upon the news of his death, \nhis Majesty declared, that Mr, Coivley had not \nleft a better man behind him in England,\'\' \n\n\n\nEDMUND WALLER. 201 \n\n\n\nEDMUND WALLER \n\n\n\nWas born in 1G65, was educated at Cam- \nbridge, and was chosen, when scarce seventeen \nyears of age, member of parliament \xe2\x80\x94 the last \nparliament of James I. ; and such was the ver- \nsatility of his talents, that he was a favourite \nwith Cromwell, with the second Charles, and \nwith James II. Thus he was constantly in \npublic life, and was much admired, though \nhe had some weak points in his character. \n\n" As a poet,\'^ says Lempriere, " Waller is \nentitled to the highest praise. He may be \ncalled, as has been observed, the parent of \nEnglish verse, and the first who showed us \nthat our language had beauty and numbers. \nThe English tongue came into his hands like \na rough diamond ; he polished it first, and \nto that degree, that all succeeding artists \nhave admired the workmanship, without pre- \ntending to mend it.^^ And Addison, in his \n" Account of the greatest English Poets,\'\' \nmakes the transition from Milton to Waller \nin the following lines : \xe2\x80\x94 \n\n"But now, my muse, a softer strain reliearse. \nTurn every line with art, and smooth thy verse ; \nThe courtly Wallc?- next commands thy lays : \nMuse, tune thy verse, with art, to WaUe)\'\'s praise.\'^ \n\n\n\n202 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nIt is related of him, that being once pre- \nsent, when the Duke of Buckingham was \ntalking profanely before Kiiig Charles, he \nsaid to him, \'\' My Lord, I am a great deal \nolder than your Grace, and have, I believe, \nheard more arguments for atheism than ever \nyour Grace did ; but I have lived long enough \nto see there is nothing in them, and so I hope \nyour Grace Avill/^ \n\nDr. Johnson bears the following testimony \nto his piety : \xe2\x80\x94 " Having now attained an age \nbeyond which the laws of nature seldom suffer \nlife to be extended, otherwise than by a fu- \nture state, he seems to have turned his mind \nupon preparation for the decisive hour, and \ntherefore consecrated his poetry to devotion. \nIt is pleasing to discover that his piet}^ was \nwithout weakness ; that his intellectual powers \ncontinued vigorous ; and that the lines which \nhe composed, when \' he, for age, could neither \nread nor write,\'\' are not inferior to the effusions \nof his youth. As the disease (dropsy) in- \ncreased upon him, he composed himself for \nhis departure ; and calling upon Dr. Birch to \ngive him the holy sacrament, he desired his \nchildren to take it with him, and made an \nearnest declaration of his faith in Chris- \ntianity.^^ \n\n\n\nMATTHEW PRIOR. 203 \n\n\n\nJOHJSr PHILLIPS \n\nWas born in 1676, and is honourably noticed \nas a poet by Johnson, Hazlitt, and others ; \nand he has a monument in Westminster \nAbbey. \n\n" Phillips,^\' says Johnson, \'\' has been always \npraised, without contradiction, as a man mo- \ndest, blameless, and pious ; Avho bore narrow- \nness of fortune without discontent, and tedi- \nous and painful maladies without impatience ; \nbeloved by those who knew him, but not am- \nbitious to be known.^\' \n\n\n\nMATTHEW PRIOR \n\nWas born in 1664, had some eminence as a \npoet, and was also buried in Westminster Ab- \nbey. I have no evidence of his piety. Dr. \nJohnson says : " His opinions, so far as the \nmeans of judging are left us, seem to have \nbeen correct.^^ His good taste, at least, is ex- \nhibited, in the remark, that " the writings of \nSolomon afford subjects for finer poems in \nevery kind, than have yet appeared in tlie \nGreek, Latin, or any modern language.\'^ \n\n\n\n204 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\n\n\njSriCHOLAS ROWE, \n\nPoet laureate of England, in the days of Ad- \ndison, "\xe2\x80\xa2 after having read most of the Greek \nand Roman histories in their original lan- \nguages, and most that are written in English, \nFrench, Italian, and Spanish, was fully per- \nsuaded of the truth of revealed religion, ex- \npressed it upon all occasions, took great de- \nlight in divinity and ecclesiastical history, \nand died at last like a Christian and philoso- \npher, with an absolute resignation to the will \nof God/^ \n\n\n\nALEXANDER POPE. \n\nOf Pope various sentiments are entertained. \nThe probability is, that his religious opinions, \nso far as relates to the great doctrines of \nChristianity, were about as correct as those \nof most persons Avho are not pious. \n\nJohnson says of him : " The religion in \nwhich he lived and died was that of the \nChurch of Pome, to which, in his correspon- \ndence with Pacine, he professes himself a sin- \ncere adherent. That he was not scrupulously \npious in some part of his life^ is known by \nmany idle and indecent applications of sen- \n\n\n\nALEXANDER POPE. 205 \n\ntences taken from the Scriptures \xe2\x80\x94 a mode of \nmerriment which a good man dreads for its \nprofaneness, and a witty man disdains for its \neasiness and vulgarity. But into whatever \nlevities he has been betrayed, it does not ap- \npear that his principles were ever corrupted, \nor that he ever lost his belief in revelation.\'^ \nEufFhead says : " Though a Catholic, as is \nsupposed, to the day of his death. Pope was \nconvinced that the Church of Rome had all \nthe marks of that antichristian power predict- \ned in the writings of the New Testament. \nAnd though he had not courage enough to \nprofess himself a Protestant, he was firmly \npersuaded of the truths of Christianity.\'\' It \nis known that, in the latter part of his life, \nhe attended the services of the Eno;lish \nChurch. \n\nThe estimation in Avliich, as a writer and \nman of taste, he held the Bible, is expressed \nby himself in the following language : \xe2\x80\x94 *\' Tlie \npure and noble, the graceful and dignilied \nsimplicity of language, is nowhere in such per- \nfection as in Scripture and Homer ; and the \nwhole Book of Job, with regard both to sub- \nlimity of thought and morality, exceeds be- \nyond all comparison, the most noble parts of \nHorner.\'^ \n\n\n\n206 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\n\n\nJAMES THOMSON, \n\nAuthor of ^\' The Seasons/\' has been styled by \na critic, " the best and most original of our \ndescriptive poets.\'\' He has a monument in \nWestminster Abbey ; but in his Seasons he \nhas a more imperishable monument to his \nmemory. \n\nHe was trained for the ministry ; but after \nstudying divinity for a time, he laid it aside \nfor the cultivation of the muses. A biogra- \nphical sketch now before me, says : " Thom- \nson in private life was an amiable, pious, and \nbenevolent character, with great goodness of \nheart, and the most virtuous disposition ;" and \nSimpson, in his Plea for Religion, enumerates \nhim among the believers. \n\nLord Lyttleton, who, it will be recollected, \nwas himself a poet and a Christian, pays him \nthe noble compliment, \xe2\x80\x94 that his works con- \ntained \n\n** No line which, dying, he could wish to blot." \n\n\n\nWILLIAM COLLINS. 207 \n\n\n\nWILLIAM COLLINS. \n\n\n\nSays Hazlitt : ^\' Among all our poets who have \natt^p.ipted only short pieces, Collins is proba- \nbly the one who has shown the most of the \nhighest qualities of poetry, and who excites \nthe most intense interest in the bosom of the \nreader. He soars into the regions of imagina- \ntion, and occupies the highest peaks of Par- \nnassus/^ His Ode on the Passions is the \nmost popular. \n\nThe early part of his life was somewhat \nirregular. But Johnson tells us of him, that \n\'\' his morals were pure, and his opinions pious.^^ \nHe also relates of him, that in the latter part \nof liis mortal career, he withdrew from study, \nand travelled with no other book than an \nEnglish Testament, such as children carry to \nschool. When a friend took it in his hand, \nout of curiosity to see what companion a man \nof letters had chosen \xe2\x80\x94 *^ I have only one book,^^ \nsaid Collins, " but that is the best.\'^ \n\n\n\n208 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\n\n\nWILLIAM COWPER. \n\nOf the celebrated author of the Task, I select \nthe following notice from the Encyclopi^clia \nof Eeligious Knowledge : \xe2\x80\x94 \n\n\'^ Cowper is a poet of varied powers : he is \nby turns playful and pathetic, tender and sar- \ncastic ; in some instances, he rises to sub- \nlimity ; and in picturesque delineation he has \nno rival but Thomson, and he generally sur- \npasses him in elegance. His other characte- \nristics are simplicity, individuality, transpa- \nrency of ideas, bold originality, singular purity, \nand experimental Christian piety. All his \npoems bear marks of his mature authorship, \nhis accurate rather than extensive scholar- \nship, and his unwearied desire to benefit man- \nkind. His Christian life, though oppressed \nby disease, was pure, useful, and lovely ; and \neven while suffering under the deranged idea \nthat he was an exception to God\'s general \nplan of grace, \xe2\x80\x94 a deranged idea which hung \nlike a cloud over his soul during the last years \nof his life, \xe2\x80\x94 it is delightful to perceive that it \nhad no tendency to lead him aside from the \npath of rectitude, or to relax in the least his \nefforts to maintain the life of religion in his \nsoul. His last accents were those of most \n\n\n\nJAMES BEATTIE. 209 \n\nperfect and touching acquiescence in the will \nof God, with whom, we doubt not, his harassed \nspirit is now at rest. What a moment was \nthat which dispelled forever its gloom V \n\n\n\nJAMES BEATTIE \n\nHas been numbered among the most distin- \nguished poets, as the author of " The Min- \nstrel/\' His fame, however, rests not solely \non his poetical compositions. He was born in \n1735, received his degree of Master of Arts in \n1753, and in 1760 Avas appointed a professor \nof philosophy in the college w^here he was edu- \ncated. In 1770, he received the degree of \nLL. D. from King\'s College, Aberdeen ; and \nfrom 1773, he received a pension from tlie \nking. Among his prose works, are found the \njustly celebrated \'\' Essay on the Nature and \nImmutability of Truth,\'\' an \'\' Essay on Me- \nmory and Imagination," a " Treatise on the \nEvidences of Christianity," and \'\' Elements of \nMoral Science." \n\nThe following tribute is from Jones\'s Chris- \ntian Biography : \xe2\x80\x94 " In every situation of life \nDr. Beattie acquitted himself with credit. He \nperformed his duties to his fellow-creatures \nand his God with integrity, zeal, and delight. \nIn his early years he was light and frivolous ; \n\n\n\n14 \n\n\n\n210 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nbut, as he became more acquainted with the \nnature ^f his own heart, his conduct was con- \nsistent, and uniformly correct. For the cause \nof truth, Christianity, and science, he was a \nzealous and able advocate. Many of his pupils \nhave acknowledged their obligations to him ; \nand the present and succeeding generations \nwill cheerfully unite in such acknowledg- \nments. His style was chaste ; liis sentences \nuniformly simple ; his poetry was very beauti- \nful ; and it is to be regretted that so small a \npart of his time was spent in the cultivation \nof the muses." \n\nIt may be worth while to add his opinion \nof one of the books composing that volume, \nwhich many a one, in his ignorance, thinks \nnot worth his perusal : \xe2\x80\x94 \'\' Of the divine na- \nture, the Psalms of David contain the most \nmagnificent descriptions that the soul of man \ncan comprehend. The one hundred and fourth \nPsalm in particular, displays the power and \ngoodness of Providence, in creating and pre- \nserving the world, and the various tribes of \nanimals in it, with such majestic brevity and \nbeauty, as it is in vain to look for in any hu- \nman composition." \n\n\n\nWALTER SCOTT. 211 \n\n\n\nWILLIAM WORDSWORTH \n\n"Was born in 1770, in Cumberland, Eng- \nland. He graduated from St. John\'s College, \nCambridge, about the year 1787, and soon \nafter became intimate with Coleridge, with \nwhom he passed much time in literary and \nother pursuits. He is the celebrated founder \nof what is called the Lake school of poetry, \nand is also entitled to the far more honourable \nappellation of Christian poet^ So says the \nEncyclopsedia of Keligious Knowledge ; and \nit is marvellous indeed, that any biographical \nwriter should ever have conceived that the \nfame of a man arising from the possession of \nany other excellence, could eclipse that arising \nfrom his religious character. Yet so it is that \nwe are often left to infer the religious charac- \nter of good men, by some mere incidental re- \nmark of their biographers. \n\nWALTER vSCOTT. \n\nThe following remarks on the productions of \nthis great man, cannot but be read with in- \nterest. Sir Walter was neitlier an infidel nor \na sceptic ; would that he liad adorned Chris- \ntianity more by his writings I \n\n\n\n212 CHRISTIAN BIOaRAPHY. \n\n" Scott^s literary character rests almost ex- \nclusively upon liis peculiar power of combin- \ning and embellishing past events, and his skill \nin delineating natural character. Memory, \nimagination, and the love of antiquity, were \nhis intellectual traits, and these have been de \nveloped in every variety of form with a won \nderful opulence. His diction is rich, but far \nfrom pure or elegant. His writings abound \nwith benevolence, with humour, and lively \nillustration ; yet they rarely open glimpses of \nChristian excellence, or touch upon the higher \ndestinies reserved for man as seen in the light \nof divine revelation. An author of seventy \nvolumes of popular literature, and a profes- \nsor, no doubt sincerely, of Christian faith, a \nmember of the Church of England, might \nsurely have made some higher offering to reli- \ngion than even the purity of his example, and \nthe general moral tendency of his writings. \n\n*\' His fictitious works are entirely free, it is \ntrue, from the morah blemishes of Byron and \nMoore, or even of Shakspeare and Pope \xe2\x80\x94 they \nteach neither licentiousness, pride, envy, nor \nmisanthropy ; they abound in sound sense, and \npractical wisdom for everyday life \xe2\x80\x94 but we \nfear they must be pronounced sadly deficient \nin the wisdom for eternity. Yet the author \nknew and felt there was a higher wisdom, as \n\n\n\nWALTER SCOTT. 213 \n\nis manifest from his Lay Sermons on the \natonement, &c., and his valuable letters on \ndemonology and witchcraft. And in his ac- \ncount of his own life, there occurs a passage \nwhich is worthy of record here, as much for \nthe sake of his readers as our own. \' It was \nmy first resolution,\' he observes, * to keep as \nfar as was in my power abreast of society ; \ncontinuing to maintain my place in general \ncompany, without yielding to the very natu- \nral temptation of narrowing myself to what \nis called literary society. By doing so, I \nimagined I should escape the besetting sin of \nlistening to language which, from one motive \nor another, ascribes a very undue degree of \nconsequence to literary pursuits, as if they \nwere indeed the business rather than the \namusement of life !\' Till literature becomes \nimpregnated with a more Christian sj)irit, \nthis is the true estimate of its value ; and this, \ndoubtless, accounts for Sir Walter\\s habit of \ndepreciating conscientiously the merit of his \nown large contributions to it. A higher praise \nawaits that glorious genius yet to appear, \nwho, with equal power to win the public atten- \ntion, shall spread abroad a literature, like the \nbeautiful parables of our Lord, adapted not \nmerely to please, but to reform, bless, and \nsave mankind. \'^ \n\n\n\n214 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\nThe above judicious remarks, quoted from \nthe Elicyclopaedia of Eeligious Knowledge, \nplace Scott where I would leave him. He was \na believer and a member of the Christian \nChurch ; and how many others, like him, with- \nhold from the service of their Creator that \nwhich he has lent them. Wealth, and time, \nand health, and strength, as well as talents, \nare the gifts of Him in whom we live and \nmove and have our being ; and he who with- \nholds from His service any of these, in the \nimpressive language of Scripture, robs God. \n\n\n\nEDMUND SMITH \n\nWas a man of great acquirements. I find the \nfollowing statement concerning him. I wish \nmore could have been said in his praise : \xe2\x80\x94 \n** He had mingled with the gay world, with- \nout exemption from its vices or its follies, but \nhad never neglected the cultivation of his \nmind ; his belief of revelation was unshaken ; \nhis learning preserved his principles ; he grew \nfirst regular, and then pious.^^ \n\n\n\nJOHN HUGHES. 215 \n\n\n\nWILLIAM KING \n\nAlso mingled too largely with the gay world \nfor his best interests. It is said of him, liow- \never, that " though his life had not been with- \nout irregularity, his principles were pure and \northodox, and his death was pious.\'^ \n\nCHARLES MONTAGUE, \n\nEarl of Halifax, at one time intended to \ntake orders in the Church of England ; and \nthough he changed his purposes, I am not \naware that he ever changed his principles. \nHis political elevation enabled him to become \nthe patron of Addison, Steele, Pope, and Swift. \n\n\n\nJOHN HUGHES \n\nWas associated with the first literary writers \nof his day ; and contributed both to the ** Tat- \nler,\'\' " Spectator,\'\' and "^ Guardian." His last \nliterary performance was a tragedy. " On \nFebruary 17, 1820, the play was represented, \nand the author died. He lived to liear that \nit was Avell received ; but paid no regard to \nthe intelligence, being tlien wholly employed \nin the meditations of a departing Christian." \n\n\n\n216 CHRISTIAN BIOGKAPRY. \n\n\n\nSIR RICHARD BLACKMORE \n\nWas a very respectable poet ; but produced \nseveral works in the other departments of \nlearning. The last work he published is " Na- \ntural Theology, or Moral Duties considered \napart from Positive ; with some Observations \non the Desirableness and the Necessity of a \nSupernatural Eevelation/^ He left behind \nhim " The Accomplished Preacher, or an Essay \nupon Divine Eloquence,^^ which was printed \nafter his death by Mr. White, of Nayland, in \nEssex, the minister who attended his death- \nbed, and testified the fervent piety of his last \nhours. His respect for the Bible as a mere \nliterary work is expressed in the folloAving \nwords : \xe2\x80\x94 " For sense, and for noble and sub- \nlime thoughts, the poetical parts of Scripture \nhave an infinite advantage above all others \nput together.^^ \n\n\n\nELIJAH FENTOK \n\nOf his speculative opinions I know nothing. \nJohnson says : "\xe2\x80\xa2 Of his morals and his con- \nversation the account is uniform ; he was \nnever named but with praise and fondness, as \na man in the highest degree amiable and ex- \n\n\n\nNICHOLAS 130ILEAU. 217 \n\ncellent.\'^ Pope speaks of liis \'\' amiable, Chris- \ntian, and philosophical character/^ \n\n\n\nNICHOLAS BOILEAU \n\nWas born at Paris, in 1636 ; and at thirty \nyears of age, the strength and harmony of his \nverse, the delicacy of his satire, and the energy \nof his style, had raised him above his poetical \npredecessors, and had made him the favourite \nof France and of Europe. Subsequently a \npension was settled on him by the king. A \nbiographer saj^s : \xe2\x80\x94 " After enjoying the fa- \nvours of liis sovereign, and all the honours \nwhich the French Academy, and the Academy \nof Inscriptions and Belles Lettres could be- \nstow, Boileau retired from public life, dissa- \ntisfied with the insincerity of the Avorld, and \nthe profligacy of manners which he had satir- \nized with spirit and truth, and he spent his \ntime in literary privacy, in the society of a \nfew select and valuable friends. \' He died, an \nexample of great resignation and piety, March \n2, 1711, in his seventy-fifth year.^^ \n\nThe Bible was Ms Book. Says he : " Every \nword and syllable of the Bible ought to be \nadored : it not only cannot be too much ad- \nmired, but it cannot be enougli admired.^\' \n\n\n\n218 CHRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY. \n\n\n\nFENELON, \n\n# \n\nThe celebrated author of " Telemachus/\' was \nArchbisliop and Duke of Cambray. His name \nis as immortal as the French language ; and \nis embalmed with his work, in almost all the \nlanguages of Europe. He was eminently \npious. \n\n\n\nHere, for the present, I leave the Poets, at \nthe same time leaving it to others to tell us \nof the virtues and the peaceful deaths of those \nwho were unbelievers. If ever that denuncia- \ntion of the Almighty, \xe2\x80\x94 " This shall they have \nat my hand \xe2\x80\x94 thei/ shall lie down in sorrow/^ \n\xe2\x80\x94 was fearfully executed, it has been in the \ncase of the unbelieving poets. Some of the \npoets of doubtful religious character, and \nsome even claimed as deists, \xe2\x80\x94 were Catholics. \nSuch were Garth, Dryden, and Moore, as well \nas Pope. \n\nTHE END. \n\n\n\nWORKS PUBLISHED BY LANE & SCOTT, \n\n200 Mulberry-street, New-York. \n\n\n\nPeck on Perfection. \n\nThe Scripture Doctrirfe of Christian Perfection Stated and \nDefended, with a Critical and Historical Examination \nof the Controversy, both Ancient and Modern ; also. \nPractical Illustrations and Advices : in a Series of Lec- \ntures. A new and improved edition. By Rev. George \nPeck, D. D. Fourth thousand. \n\n12mo., pp. 470. Muslin or sheep tO 75 \n\nThis norh forms jMrt of the course of study adopted hy the \nlast General Conference. \n\nThis work is well-timed, and Dr. Peck has conferred an im- \nportant favour upon the Christian public by its publication. \nThe Wesleyan family are peculiarly indebted to him for the \nclear and able vindication of their views therein contained. \n\xe2\x80\x94 Northern Christian Advocate- \n\nWe have read this work with great satisfaction, and recom- \nmend it to the public with a hearty good-will. It is tho- \nroughly Wesleyan throughout. \xe2\x80\x94 Southern Christian Adv. \n\nIt is a book for the times, and will do much toward defending \nand promoting the great cause of holiness. \xe2\x80\x94 Western Chris- \ntian Advocate. \n\nA vein of hallowed piety and patient research is conspicuous \ntluoughout the volume. \xe2\x80\x94 {London) Wesleyan Methodist Mag. \n\nIt is an elaborate discussion of the whole subject. The theo- \nries of all ages are reviewed, objections answered, the way \nof its attainment stated, and inducements to it urged. \xe2\x80\x94 \nZion\'s Herald. \n\nWatson (Bp.) and Leslie on the Evidences. \n\nApology for the Bible, in a Series of Letters addressed \nto Thomas Paine, author of the "Age of Pteason." By \nBishop Watson. To which is added, Leslie\'s Short and \nEasy Method with the Deists. Eleventh thousand. \n\n18mo., pp. 220. Sheep 80 30 \n\nBishop Watson\'s Apology has been widely circulated and \nmuch read, and, what is of still more consequence, is known \nto have been in many instances eminently useful. Wherc- \never, then, the poi.son of infidelity is spreading, those who \nare concerned to provide antidotes should not forget this \nvaluai)lo and tried production, \xe2\x80\x94 Memoirs of Hishop Watson, \n\n^ \xe2\x80\x94 ^ \n\n\n\nI^_ 1^ \n\nWORKS PUBLISHED BY LANE & SCOTT, \n\n200 Mulberry-street, New-York. \n\n\n\nCarvosso, (William,) Life of. \n\nThe Great Efficacy of Simple Faith in the Atonement of \nChrist, exemplified in a Memoir of Mr. William Car- \nvosso, sixty years a Leader in the Wesleyan Methodist \nConnexion. Written? by Himself, and edited by his \nSon. Fifty-fifth thousand. \n\n18mo., pp. 351, Muslin or sheep SO 45 \n\nThe popularity of this little volume may be inferred from the \nfact that, within a few years, fifty thousand copies have \nbeen sold in this country alone. The life of Carvosso is an \nevidence of the great efficacy of simple faith in the atone- \nment of Christ. It shows us that without splendid talents, \nor much learning, a man may please God, and save souls. \xe2\x80\x94 \nLiterary Register. \n\nLuther, Life of. \n\nThe Life of Martin Luther. To which is prefixed an Ex- \npository Essay on the Lutheran Reformation. By Geo. \nCuEiTT. With an Appendix, containing a Chronolo- \ngical Table of the principal Events occurring during \nthe period of Luther\'s Life. With a Portrait. 8ixth \nthousand. \n\n12mo., pp. 340. Muslin or sheep .\xe2\x80\xa2 tO 65 \n\nThe subject of this book is, for its real grandeur, unrivalled \namong the subjects of merely human history. It has so \noften been touched by the greatest masters tliat it requires \nuncommon courage to approach it, and uncommon talents \nto present it in its real greatness, and to surround it with \nits native splendours ; Mr. Cubitt, however, has not degraded \nhis theme. This book is a spirited performance, and reflects \nhonour upon the head and heart of the author. \n\nGarrettson, (Freeborn,) Life of \n\nLife of Rev. Freeborn Garrettson ; compiled from his print- \ned and Manuscript Journals, and other authentic Docu- \nments. By N. Bangs, D. D. Third tJiotisand. \n\n12mo., pp. 294. Muslin or sheep $0 60 \n\nThis book, and all such memorials of our fathers, should be \nread and re-read by each successive generation of Melh- \nodists. \n\n\n\n^- \n\n\n\nDeacidified using the Bookkeeper process \nNeutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide \nTreatment Date: May 2005 \n\nPreservationTechnologiei \n\nA WORLD LEADER IN PAPER PRESERVATIOI \n\n1 1 1 Thomson Park Drive \nCranberry Township. PA 1 6066 \n(724) 779-21 1 1 \n\n\n\noO \n\n\n\n'